I Was Only Dreaming

I awaken with the sun in my face. I hear the TV downstairs cranked up all the way. Fuck. I was planning on sleeping until noon.
I sit up and look at the alarm clock that reads 10:30. Close enough, I think. My arm is bandaged and my thoughts drift to last night. Ugh. I hate it when I remind myself of stuff like that. I remember how I got hurt, a little bit about how I ended up here, the kiss (I grin to myself at this point), and, oh yes, Tre and Billie barging in on us. I mean, don't they have homes?
My head and stomach don't hurt, thank God, so I attempt getting up. After a few tries, I am on my feet. I am quite wobbly, but I manage to stumble into the nearest bathroom. I see a girl with dark circles under her eyes, messed up hair, and a split lip in the mirror. I look like one of Dracula's brides.
I am wearing a long, blue t-shirt and a pair of polka dot pajama pants. Both of which are about three sizes too big. I want to take a shower, but I'll need clothes. The blue t-shirt has a small blood stain on it, and I don't want to sit in my pajamas all day.
I wander downstairs into the living room and find Billie on the couch, eating microwave popcorn and drinking what looks like soda but probably is beer.
"Hey," he says, without even looking at me. His tone is flat in a kind of 'whatever-you-want-I-don't-give-a-fuck' kind of way.
"Hi," I squeak out. "Um, I wanna take a shower and I was wondering if there were any clothes I could borrow to wear today."
Billie sighs. "Uh, go up into my room, and just take whatever. I don't care."
"Thanks," I say, a little disheartened that he doesn't bother to get his ass up and even show me his room.
"Where's Mike and Ollie and Tre?" I ask.
"Mike's out somewhere, Mom's at work, and Tre went to school," Billie answers, still staring mindlessly at the TV.
Well, fuck you, I think to myself. I go back upstairs and open two doors before I find Billie's room. It's quite messy, but so is my room. It's covered, head-to-toe in posters, a few pictures, and two guitars. The bed is covered in an unmade black bedspread and white sheets. An acoustic guitar lays haplessly on the bed, calling for someone to play it. God, I was so tempted.
Next to the guitar was a small, leather book, like the diary I had when I was seven (don't ask). Curiosity gets the best of me and pick it up. On the first page is written in red ink, "Property of Billie Joe Armstrong. If you turn the pages of this book I will find you and murder you in your sleep." On the next page is a picture of a guy shooting someone in their bed. Pretty deep, y'know?
I turn the page and find a lot of words. Song lyrics, mostly. All hand-written in black, red, and green ink. I go through the book about half-way and find the latest entry. There's no title, but I read the words:
She
She screams in silence
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind
Waiting for a sign
To smash the silence with the brick of self-control

I look up from the book, look around the room for a second, then go back to reading.

Are you locked up in a world
That's been planned out for you?
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you

That's all that's been written so far. It's kind of sweet, actually; I like it.
I close the book and put it back where I found it. I open a few dresser drawers until I find a Clash t-shirt that may actually fit me.
I take a long, warm shower, wash my hair and all other areas (kinda hard to do without getting my arm wet but oh well). I find my jeans that I wore yesterday in the bedroom and put those on, along with Billie's shirt. I try to dry my hair with a towel, which proves to be of no use, so I just wear it down, and it leaves a dark, wet stain on the back of my shirt.
I wander downstairs and find the living room vacant. The bowl of popcorn was left on the couch, and the 'soda' can was on the coffee table without a coaster. After stealing some popcorn, I find a half-eaten package of Poptarts and stuff my face with them. I take a seat in front of the island in the middle of the kitchen. After ten seconds of this, I decide that it's too quiet for me, and I go into the garage.
I see Mike's unmade mattress, several drumsticks and guitar picks lying haplessly about the floor, and a French Fry wedged under the garage door. I decide that it's best not to ask about this later.
I take a pick from the floor and plug somebody's guitar into an amp. Crank it all the way up. Play a couple of chords to make the walls shake a bit. I grin to myself. I start to play some random Van Halen song, then AC/DC, and then I play Led Zeppelin's 'Stairway to Heaven' twice. Now, that's how you relax.
I continue doing this for about an hour or so until I hear the door open and shut. I look up and see Billie coming down the stairs. He sees me, stops dead in his tracks, and then simply turns around and starts going back up the stairs again. What the hell's his problem?
"Hey!" I call to Billie. He stops to look at me. "If you wanna play or something, I'm done."
He stares at me for a second. "Thanks," He starts coming back down again. "Do you, uh, mind playing something with me? It'll only take a sec, and I kinda wanna hear how it sounds with bass in the background."
Eh, why not? "Sure!" I agree and plug in Mike's bass. He won't mind.
"Thanks," Billie says again, and pulls Tre's seat over so he sit down.
"Now, this is what I want you to play," Billie takes the bass and just a few simple chords in a little pattern for me.
"Kay, I think I got it," I say, then play it back for him.
"Exactly!" Billie's face lit up as I repeated the short line. "Mkay, just keep playin' that."
He picked up his guitar and begins to play. Then he sings the song that I "accidentally" read this morning.

She
She screams in silence
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind
Wait...ing for a sign
To smash the silence with a brink of self control

Then he completely stopped playing and gave a satisfied laugh.
"It's perfect!" Billie exclaims. I am just standing there watching his little celebration.
"Okay...um, is there gonna be a chorus or something?" I ask.
"Eh. I'll probably just throw this one in a shoebox for a couple years and see what happens," Billie says, laughing. He is grinning more than the first time we met. The first time when I saw his eyes be happy. Those very beautiful green eyes. Eyes you could get lost in for all eternity.
I quickly shake my head and look down at Mike's bass to get away from my thoughts. Jeez, Jess, pull it together.
Just as I put the bass down and unplug it, I hear the front door open and shut. I can hear someone (I'm guessing Tre, but you never know) barking like a dog.
I start going up the stairs and Billie follows me. Just as I open the door, Tre bursts in, and yep, he's barking like a dog. Mike is standing behind Tre, with a paper bag in his hand, and he has a leash...around Tre's neck. Why?
"I'm so sorry you had to see this, Jessie. He just got too much for me, I told him I should put him on a leash, and, yeah, here we are," Mike was trying hard to not laugh, and, might I add, failing miserably.
I roll my eyes and push my way into the kitchen, and back to the living room. I plop down on the couch and start to polish off the popcorn. I stare blindly at MTV as I hear a crash, a bang, and an 'Ooof!' form someone. Then scrambling up the stairs, something falling in the kitchen, and then I watch Billie chase Tre out the front door. Mike is close behind, but right as the two leave, he shuts the door behind them, locking it.
Mike walks over, grinning at me.
"I love those two, y'know? They're fucking insane, but they're pretty awesome."
I laugh at his comment. He walks over to the couch and sits beside me, taking some of the popcorn.
"How ya feeling?" Mike asks me.
"I'm okay. My body doesn't hurt, but, yeah I am a little tired. Like, brain tired, not body tired," I say.
Mike giggles (yeah...he giggled. Not laughed, but giggled), saying, "Yeah, I get what ya mean. You wanna take a nap, or something?"
"I'm good," I say.
Then there's an awkward silence. It's quite obvious that neither of us had forgotten the events of last night (not about the abuse or the injury; what happened after all that)., and I could tell that Mike was waiting for me to speak or do something. So, I do do something.
I scooch over until I am sitting right beside Mike and lean my head on his shoulder. Mike puts am arm around me and I feel him kiss my temple. Goosebumps.
I turn my head around to face Mike. Our faces are thisclose, and I get that tingly little feeling in my stomach. Like the butterflies are trying to escape, but can't.
Mike sorta smiles at me, in that way that he does, and closes the space between us. I feel the warmth of his lips against mine, I feel his hand on my back, I feel a lot of things. I felt warm, all over. I felt happy. I felt safe.
He pulls away for a second, and I fear that this moment is over, but its not. Mike kisses my cheek, then my jaw, and then my neck. And then he works his way back up to my lips. He gives me a few sloppy kisses before going in for the kill (pardon the expression). We kiss. A lot. For like, an hour, maybe. Just...kissing. There were small, sweet ones, long, deep, passionate ones, and ones you wouldn't even describe as kisses. It was...heaven, as far as I knew it.
So, as I said, we made out for about an hour, and we probably would've gone on longer if it weren't for a certain sound...a person barking like a dog.