The Protectors
Like a Splash of Cold Water on my Face...
Now’s when you learn about little old me. On February 17, 1972, I was born. My mom named me Billie Joe Armstrong, spelt like that and no other way. I hate it when people spell my name wrong. It’s not like it’s that hard. If I’m so famous, surely people can spell my simple first name right. I mean, who the hell is Billy-Jo?
Anyways, blah, blah, blah, life story. Go look for a biography of me on the Internet if you want to know more. When I was ten, my dad died, passed the book down to me, and I didn’t read it. By 1992, Mike, Tré, and I were a band. Of course it didn’t just happen like that, but yeah. In the March of 1993, I decided to open the book and read it.
I don’t know what exactly possessed me to do it, but I did. It might’ve been because of the pressures of major labels wanting to sign my band at the time and I decided that I might as well take a look at it, but I did. It changed my life forever from that day on. My eyes were opened up to a whole new world, though not right away. At first, I didn’t believe it.
The book was a sort of logbook which my father, his father, his father’s father, and so on used to record certain events. These certain events had to do with magical creatures that most humans think are just made up, myths and legends. I was one of them. I didn’t believe what was written even though there were so many entries over so many years. It would’ve taken a long time to have written all the things along with a great imagination…or the things had actually happened and it was an important duty to record them.
I didn’t tell Mike or Tré and didn’t look at the book again. At least until one night something happened that helped open my eyes like a splash of cold water on my face. And so my story finally begins…
March 12, 1993
I was walking home from somewhere alone. Mike and Tré were already at our place. I suddenly started feeling suspicious and started looking around. It was nighttime and there was a new moon so it was dark. I self-consciously felt my paces quicken as I walked along the empty street.
‘Stop being so paranoid,’ I thought to myself.
The night was suspiciously still and I felt an unexplainable urge to bolt and sprint straight for home. I kept myself from doing that, thinking of how I would have to explain myself to Mike and Tré and then would probably end up getting laughed at. My thoughts were interrupted by a thud I heard behind a building. Ignoring my instincts, I decided to go see what the sound was, also against my better reasoning. Even more than my desire to bolt was a desire for me to go see what that was.
As I rounded the building, I got my splash of water. A man had his head bent to the neck of a teenage girl’s. His back was to me, so at first he didn’t see me, but then he dropped the girl. Even from where I was, I could tell that she was dead. The man turned, and I saw his face. He was licking something from around his lips: blood. Glistening white fangs stuck out over his lip. He was a vampire.
Before I could scream or run, he stalked over to me, eyes glowing a bright red. I was too shocked to do anything. This was confirmation that everything that was in the book that my dad had given me was true. It was too much for me to take in and all I could do was just stand there with my eyes wide as the vampire stared at me.
He roughly put his hand over my mouth to make sure that if I screamed, no one would be able to hear me. Then, he bent down and I could feel his breath on my skin. Instead of being warm like a normal person’s breath, it was cold, lacking any heat. I shivered, my first response since seeing him. Then I blinked. His fangs grazed the skin of my neck as I suddenly realized what was happening and reacted.
I took a step backwards, coming up against a wall. The vampire raised his head and grinned, knowing I had nowhere to go. Then I kicked him, hard. He bent over in pain, cursing. Obviously he hadn’t expected me to try to fight back, and definitely not to kick him. Without wasting another second, I ran. I ran as fast as my legs would take me until I reached home. I burst into the door and ran straight into my room that I shared, not bothering to tell Mike or Tré anything. I locked the door and collapsed on my bed, shaking all over and breathing heavily.
I looked over at my dresser, staring in particular at the top drawer. When I had regained my breath, I went over to it and opened it with trembling hands. I shuffled through its contents, mostly junk, until I found what I was looking for: the book. I took it out and shut the drawer before sitting on my bed, just holding on tightly to the book as though it were the most valuable thing in the world.
“What are you?” I breathed.
Anyways, blah, blah, blah, life story. Go look for a biography of me on the Internet if you want to know more. When I was ten, my dad died, passed the book down to me, and I didn’t read it. By 1992, Mike, Tré, and I were a band. Of course it didn’t just happen like that, but yeah. In the March of 1993, I decided to open the book and read it.
I don’t know what exactly possessed me to do it, but I did. It might’ve been because of the pressures of major labels wanting to sign my band at the time and I decided that I might as well take a look at it, but I did. It changed my life forever from that day on. My eyes were opened up to a whole new world, though not right away. At first, I didn’t believe it.
The book was a sort of logbook which my father, his father, his father’s father, and so on used to record certain events. These certain events had to do with magical creatures that most humans think are just made up, myths and legends. I was one of them. I didn’t believe what was written even though there were so many entries over so many years. It would’ve taken a long time to have written all the things along with a great imagination…or the things had actually happened and it was an important duty to record them.
I didn’t tell Mike or Tré and didn’t look at the book again. At least until one night something happened that helped open my eyes like a splash of cold water on my face. And so my story finally begins…
March 12, 1993
I was walking home from somewhere alone. Mike and Tré were already at our place. I suddenly started feeling suspicious and started looking around. It was nighttime and there was a new moon so it was dark. I self-consciously felt my paces quicken as I walked along the empty street.
‘Stop being so paranoid,’ I thought to myself.
The night was suspiciously still and I felt an unexplainable urge to bolt and sprint straight for home. I kept myself from doing that, thinking of how I would have to explain myself to Mike and Tré and then would probably end up getting laughed at. My thoughts were interrupted by a thud I heard behind a building. Ignoring my instincts, I decided to go see what the sound was, also against my better reasoning. Even more than my desire to bolt was a desire for me to go see what that was.
As I rounded the building, I got my splash of water. A man had his head bent to the neck of a teenage girl’s. His back was to me, so at first he didn’t see me, but then he dropped the girl. Even from where I was, I could tell that she was dead. The man turned, and I saw his face. He was licking something from around his lips: blood. Glistening white fangs stuck out over his lip. He was a vampire.
Before I could scream or run, he stalked over to me, eyes glowing a bright red. I was too shocked to do anything. This was confirmation that everything that was in the book that my dad had given me was true. It was too much for me to take in and all I could do was just stand there with my eyes wide as the vampire stared at me.
He roughly put his hand over my mouth to make sure that if I screamed, no one would be able to hear me. Then, he bent down and I could feel his breath on my skin. Instead of being warm like a normal person’s breath, it was cold, lacking any heat. I shivered, my first response since seeing him. Then I blinked. His fangs grazed the skin of my neck as I suddenly realized what was happening and reacted.
I took a step backwards, coming up against a wall. The vampire raised his head and grinned, knowing I had nowhere to go. Then I kicked him, hard. He bent over in pain, cursing. Obviously he hadn’t expected me to try to fight back, and definitely not to kick him. Without wasting another second, I ran. I ran as fast as my legs would take me until I reached home. I burst into the door and ran straight into my room that I shared, not bothering to tell Mike or Tré anything. I locked the door and collapsed on my bed, shaking all over and breathing heavily.
I looked over at my dresser, staring in particular at the top drawer. When I had regained my breath, I went over to it and opened it with trembling hands. I shuffled through its contents, mostly junk, until I found what I was looking for: the book. I took it out and shut the drawer before sitting on my bed, just holding on tightly to the book as though it were the most valuable thing in the world.
“What are you?” I breathed.