Billie Joe Armstrong Is My Step-Father...and I Hate It

I was falling. I wasn’t sure how long I had been falling for, or where exactly I was falling to. If I was heading to hell, I had long since probably passed that. All I could see was black. Darkness. I felt the dress flap against my legs. Strange. I don’t remember posessing a dress that goes past my knees. Not since my dad funerel... it dawned on me. That was the exact dress I was wearing, only in a bigger size. However, there was no dad calling me from above, or no Billie Joe pulling be down. Not like last time. Just... me. Falling. Down. Getting no closer to the ground. Suddenly, a sound broke into the atmosphere.

“Fucking coward.”

“Grace?! GRACE, WAKE UP!” I felt someone shake my hysterically and my eyes sprang open. My face was covered in sweat and I was still shaking when my mum let me go. She stroked my hair and sat on the edge of my bed. “Good God, are you alright?!”

“How did you know?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “How did you know I was having... a nightmare?” I could only barely say the word. Nightmare. It seemed frightening to say it at this moment.

“How did I not? You were screaming hysterically in your sleep” mum said, softly. My eyes drifted to the door to see five other people peering curiously into my room, all of their eyes on me. Including Joey. My breathing was ragged. I tried to speak, but my throat was dry. Finally, words sprang into my head.

“Yea... I’m fine” I muttered. I turned to glare at the pack at my door, at three imparticular (you should be able to guess...). “Well? Go on, I’m not some freak show!” Slowly, they backed off. Joey stayed behind a bit, looking at me. I gave him a glare so acidic and cold, he could’ve turned to stone. At my look, he left. My mother, however, didn’t. She touched my arm.

“What was it?”

“What was what?”

“The dream. Was it just a nightmare or was it... was it your...” She gulped hardly, and I could see was struggling. I didn’t like to see her like this. At all. So I answered for her.

“No, it wasn’t about dad” I said. “It wasn’t even about Billie.” She got some relief from the last sentence, and smiled to comfort me.

“Then what?”

“Jo- nothing. It was nothing, I was just... look, I don’t really wanna talk about it” I said, closing my eyes trying to shut out the picture of my nightmare. She rubbed my arm.

“Well then, I’m not gonna pressure you” she said, standing up. “Do you need anything? A glass of water or something?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks” I said, putting on a painful smile. “I think I’ll be able to sleep, I’m fifteen.” She smiled at me before leaving, closing the door after her. Once she was gone, my face fell. I tried to sleep again. I tried for an hour. But nothing. I couldn’t sleep. I checked my clock. Two in the morning. In fact, it was five past two. I widened my eyes and nearly screamed again.

Five past two. That’s when I woke up last night beside...

I couldn’t even think up of his name. It angered me too much. How dare he?! Does he think he could come up into my house and just call me a coward anc continue to live life here as normal?! Well, I’ll fucking show him and his daddy dearest too! Living with me will be the biggest mistake either of them will ever make! Billie and... and... I closed my eyes tight. His fucking name. It made me angry thinking about him.

Are you sure it’s not pain? Hurt? He hurt you. That fucking little voice was back. Ha! Hurt?! Not a chance in hell. I rolled on my back and narrowed my eyes and listened. No one was up. I kicked the bed sheets off me and opened my cupboard. And there is was.

The sequins on my celtic Irish Dancing dress glistened in the darkness of the cupboard, lighting up the rest of its black and white figure. I pulled it out and lay in carefully across the floor. I thought of the story my dad used to tell me again. I pictured the Irish leprocauns using their sharpened clover stems to sew each stitch together carefully, snipping the edges with gentle care to do it just right. Drawing on the patterns with great intense and creativity, drawing to perfection. Then of course, using the finest gold to put the sparkle onto the sequins. Seiving it on like fairy dust. This was the story my father told me about my dress. Yes, he was just that creative with his stories. He could’ve told anyone anything about Ireland. He couldv’e wrote a one thousand page book about it. I dreamed, when I was little, I would help him write his book and would go there with him, mum and Kage (Hollie wasn’t born at this point) and live there. He had told me they would have to crown my Queen because I was so special and beautiful. I would laugh and tell him I wasn’t but he’d deny it with a passion. A strong passion. Then I’d say I have to Princess coz I believed my mum would be Queen. Of course, my dad and Kage were the males. Dad was, obviously, the part of King and Kage was the young Prince.

The dream sounded weird and childish now but I still smiled.

I looked out my window. The darkness overshadowed the town. It was a strange thing to think of... but I replaced my baggy tank top and my underwear short things (whatever the fuck they were) with clean underwear and my celtic dress. I admired myself, completed it with white tights and black ballet shoes type things and then admired myself again. I felt young again. However, it didn’t end. I looked at my window and bit my lip. I thought. Was this senisble?

Who the fuck gives a shit? They always do things without giving shit to your opinion anyway. And who cares what Billie or... he will think anyway?!

I grabbed my jacket and my iPod. I stuffed my iPod in my jackets pocket. I rammed my window open and jumped down. I didn’t land on my feet, as planned. Well, actually, I did but I felt a sharp pain on my ankle and bit back a scream of pain and fell back, ungracefully on my backside. For a girl named Grace, if I haven’t already mentioned, I was exteremly ungraceful. The grass was cold. I pushed myself up, muttering a few swear words and I looked around. Alright, I was outside. What the hell did I want out here anyway? I gazed at the empty sidewalk. I started walking down it.

We lived on an estate block. It wasn’t far from Billie’s previous house, thus how Joey could walk up to meet his friends. I used to (emphasis on the past tense) be instantly thrilled that I lived only a few miles away from one of my ex-favourite rockstars. I always dreamed of running up there. Up until a few weeks ago, I would’ve fainted in the sight of Billie Joe Armstrong. Now, if I had a choice, I would stab him. No, I would hang him, then when he was about to die, I’d stab him.

Yes.

So, anyway. I was walking down the street, not knowing where exactly I was going. But anywhere was better than home at the moment. I just decided to climb that really tall hill. It was... actually... really tall. If you stand on the top, you could see the whole city, mostly coz you have to walk through two feilds to get there. I climbed the hill, my knees sore with the clambering. Just when I thought they were about to give in, I reached the top. I sat on a log that sat in a lonely spot on the tip of the hill. I rubbed my feet in pain, inahling sharply between my teeth. I was used to feet pain anyway, I get a lot worse than this in my dancing lessons. But still, I was now free to moan about them all I want. I was focused on my pain.

That was, until I looked up.

A display and golden and orange lights lay in front of my, like a carpet spread across the land. The street lights and the buildings were alive with light. Some cars were even still going. The sky was clear so the stars twinkled freely, winking above me. And even fireflies were committed to lighting up the city. I was mesmorized by this. I stood up slowly, staring. I hadn’t seen anything as beautiful. I felt like I should be sharing this someone but it felt great having it all to myself. Night was truely beautiful. At that moment, I didn’t know why people slept at night. It was more beautiful that the daytime. I sat down again, smiling. I pulled out my iPod. This called for music.

I sat there for ages, listening to the music and enjoying the view. Suddenly, “Thinking of You” by Katy Perry sprang on. I frowned but I didn’t turn it off.

Comparisons are easily done

Once you had a taste of perfection

Like an apple hanging from a tree

I picked the ripest one, I still got the seed

You said move on, where do I go?

I guess second best is all I will know-

I decided to turn it off. I didn’t know why. But I turned it off. Some Glee song replaced it. “Hello, Goodbye”.

I say yes

You say no

You say stop

And I say go, go, go.

Oh no.

You say say goodbye

And I say hello.

I bit my lip and grabbed my arms in the process of hugging myself. I’m the only one who would. I closed my eyes when I felt them sting.

The orginal song of this was one of my dads favourites.

I don’t know why you say goodbye

I say hello

After a few more moments, I knew it was bout four in the morning and I better get home. I stood up and ran down the hill, careful not to trip and fall. Thanks to my ungracefulness, I did. So I just rolled down the hill. It seemed longer than before but I didn’t mind. It was fun. I screamed in exhileration. I felt young again, care free. I hadn’t felt like nothing was wrong since...

I stopped myself rolling and stood up again. I had reached the bottem. I brushed myself off and checked for grass stains. Surprisingly, none. Good. They’re damn hard to get off. I walked home. I knew where mum kept the spare key. Under the dustbin. I snatched it, unlocked the front door and snuck in. But as I closed the door, it creaked loudly. I winced. I tried again. It screeched louder. Finally, I just closed in fully. I closed my eyes tight and listened. I heard Billie mutter something about sex (it was pretty loud...) and heard him roll over or something. I rolled my eyes angerily. Man whore. I locked the door again and walked upstairs. I got dressed in my ratty tank top and shorts. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth because I realized my breath smelt awful.

As I was walking back, I noticed the spare bedroom door was open. I hesitated before peering in. It was Jakob’s turn to sleep on the artifical bed. He looked umcomfortable sleeping there, but at least he was sleeping. I snuck past him to look at Joey. He was smiling in his sleep about something. I frowned. I wonder what he was smiling about. I sat on the other side of the double bed, watching him for a while.

I fucking felt like Edward Cullen.

His face suddenly tensed in his sleep and he tossed over. Twice. I got up and left him to it. When I was at the doorway I heard him whimper something.

Something that sounded a lot like “Grace”. I looked back and smirked wildly.

Good. I was haunting his dreams already and I didn’t even need to try.