The Only Difference Between Bill Kaulitz and Brendon Urie Is Press Coverage

There was something about that day that just wasn’t right.

It was about two months after the tour had ended so abruptly.

Our driver was sick so Bill was driving me to the doctor, we were going to see how the baby was doing. This time it felt different, I knew I was only three months along and all, but it just felt different. And I hope that meant I was only going to have one. God if I had four little babies I would die from stress.

So we were going to find out all that junk.

It was winter, and it had snowed the night before. Not too many people were out because it was pretty cold. The streets weren’t icy at all but Bill still only drove about 20mph, which drove me crazy after awhile.

But he was always afraid, always protective of me, so I didn’t say anything.

I talked to Bea on the phone, we were about twenty minutes away from the doctor then, and she was telling me all about her ‘problems’ or whatever, telling me she felt fat when she hadn’t even gained anything. I told her to just wait. Oh goodness that girl was a wreck. She’d never wanted to have kids.

Neither did Tom for that matter but he had accepted this far much easier than Bea had. He would be a good dad, he was like Bill.

I was getting tired of her mindless chatter so I lied and told her we were at the doctor’s and I had to go.

“Bea complaining again?” Bill asked knowingly.

“Yeah,” I sighed and put my phone away. I placed a hand on my stomach, smiling as I felt those familiar quiverings.

“You okay?” Bill asked, looking at me with a warm smile.

“I’m great,” I smiled back.

He turned back to look at the road but I still looked at him. He was so gorgeous… His stick of a body, that amazing hair, and his angelic face and chocolate eyes.

I looked back to the road too. He kept turning his head to look at me, a soft smile on his face. I could see it from the corner of my eye.

“What?” I asked, giggling and looking back at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “How could I not look at you?”

He turned back to look at the road.

And then it happened.

I saw the car coming out of the corner of my eye. A big red SUV, a Cadillac I think it was. It was at the red light but it didn’t stop, it just kept going…

A split second letter the car hit an icy patch and collided into us, my head almost hit the dashboard as I let out a scream and felt the impact. I blacked out for a few seconds. The car was spinning,

I wasn’t even sure what was happening anymore. I hung onto my seatbelt for dear life. My body slammed against the door and I finally opened my eyes, coming to my senses.

I turned my head, breathless and teary-eyed, to look at Bill. The car had stopped and everything was so still. Too still.

I looked out the windshield. It was cracked on the left and I could see through it that the car was smoking.

Bill’s body was slouched up against the dashboard, almost jammed against the door. He wasn’t facing me and his head was down, his hair blocking his face.

But his hand hung still from his arm, swinging slightly. A few drops of blood trickled down his arm and I gasped.

“Bill?” I breathed, unbuckling myself.

I grabbed his arm.

“Bill!” I cried again. His body was limp.

I tried to pull him from the dashboard but his arms was smashed up against the door, blood pouring down fast. I could almost see the bones in his arms, because his skin was torn up.

I let out a sob and lifted up his face in my hand. His body was still warm and I was cradling him as best I could. I could feel a slow, sad pulse in his wrist.

The left side of his face was covered in blood, it poured down onto his clothing. The blonde streaks in his hair were now a dark red. But it wasn’t as bad as his arm.

The door was smashed up and glass had splattered on his side, cutting up his face everywhere.

“Bill,” I muttered. “No, no, no,” I shook my head.

I pried him off the door held his limp body in my arms.

“Bill, wake up, please wake up,” I whispered, his pulse was slowing. “No, don’t die, please…”

I held his limp body against mine, letting his warm blood pour down me and stain my shirt and pants.

Quiet tears rolled down my face and I rocked him like he was a baby. I could hear sirens off in the distance, but could they really save him?

“Tara…” his voice said weakly and I pulled him from me, a steady stream of my tears falling on his jacket. His chocolate eyes opened slowly.

“Bill, are you okay?” I breathed, pulling him away from me but still holding him.

“Everything’s cold,” he muttered, his bottom lip quivering. His eyes couldn’t focus on me, they were just staring out into the nothing.

I held him tighter, wrapping my arms around him, and tried to warm him up, careful not to touch his left side, where he was bleeding and broken.

“Does that feel better?” I asked him. Well I’d done my best…

He ignored the question. “Tara, I love you,” a few tears trickled down his pale face.

“I love you too,” his pulse was slowing again.

“Tell…tell Kayden and Sophie I love them too. And when they’re older, tell them about me. Tell them about their daddy, okay? Please,” he muttered, eyes starting to close. “And the little one inside you now,” he smiled slightly and shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t, don’t,” I sobbed.

“Goodbye Tara,” his eyes filled with tears and they spilled out fast. He grabbed my hand with his bloody one.

“Bill!” I cried, sobbing like an idiot.

“It’s time for me to go,” he mumbled. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and I bent down and laid a kiss on his lips. They were so cold…

“Please Bill, you can’t leave me. Have strength, please…” I mumbled, trying to stop the bleeding, wrapping my sweatshirt around his beat up arm.

He let out a soft sigh and rolled back into my arms, his body limp.

“No,” I sobbed into his chest. “No!” I cried.

The next thing I knew they were pulling me away from him. I was crying and screaming and kicking. I wasn’t going to leave him. I couldn’t leave him.

They wouldn’t tell me what was going on, and for good reason. I was acting like a crazy woman. And they told me to go home.

I didn’t even know if my Bill was dead, he had to be, he’d had no pulse, but I knew Tom came to the scene at one point, picking my sobbing body up in his arms and carrying me to a better place.

The last thing I remembered were those paramedics, tearing off Bill’s jacket and trying to restart his heart with a defibrillator.

And hell that only made me scream more…