You're My Nicotine

October pushed open the front door and kicked it shut behind her. She started up the stairs, wet from the rain and no way in the mood to talk to anyone. But of course things could only get worse.

"October!" Billie Joe called from the kitchen.

The seventeen year old stopped half way up the stairs with a huff. "Yes?"

"Come here," he said sternly.

Fucking hell, what had she done now? Dropping her damp bag at the bottom of the stairs, she walked into the kitchen and winced at the expressions on both her parents faces.

"Please, if you're going to yell at me, save it," she moaned.

"Just hang on one minute," Billie started, his arms crossed over his chest as he stood in front of the sink, his brow creased, "One, you don't talk to me like that, and two, we will talk about this now because I said so. You got that?"

"Yes," sighed October, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

"Could you get rid of this attitude, please? It's so irritating when I try to talk to you."

October stared straight at her father impatiently and cried, "Can you just tell me what the hell I've done, please?"

"October, die down, would you?" Adrienne spoke up from the table as she stood from it. "You're heading downhill again, what is the matter with you?"

"Having you guys bitch at me isn't making anything better, so let's just get this over with, shall we?"

Adrienne shook her head from side to side lightly as Billie Joe glared at their daughter.

"You've got so much pain inside of you that you're taking it out on your friends now," Adrienne said.

October frowned, "What?"

"The principal called and told us what you did to Hazel," she dictated, "What is wrong with you, October Armstrong? This is not how we raised you."

"How you raised me, you mean," she muttered.

"Oh my God, if you bring this up again, I swear to God-"

"You'll what?" October quizzed, cutting her father off, "You'll fucking what, dad, huh?"

Billie gritted his teeth together in annoyance. What had gotten into her today? What happened to October happily getting ready for Prom?

"Are you on the drugs again?" he questionned.

"Jesus Christ, dad, I'm not that friggin' stupid," she retorted snottily, "What, you don't trust me now?"

"October, please," her mother pleaded, "Just tell us why you're being like this. What is going on?"

"I've fucked up, isn't that obvious? Once again, October wrecks everything, she screws people up and makes all the wrong choices."

"Why?" asked Adrienne, "What have you done?"

"It's none of your Goddamn business, mom!"

"Do not talk to your mother like that!" Billie Joe warned.

"What?" October cried, "I don't have to tell you every single thing!"

"I think someone's being a little bitch tonight," he remarked.

"And I think someone needs to stay the fuck out of my way tonight," she answered back.

This only angered Billie more, and he stepped forward, poitning his finger in her face as she scowled.

"You stop this," he said huskily, "This stops right now."

"What's wrong, dad? Am I getting too much for you?" October mocked, "Well then why don't you fuck off back to your 'sing song' world, where you'd rather be?"

"Yeah, maybe I should, then I wouldn't have to deal with your demented ass."

October stared at her father in pure hatred at that moment. "You asshole," she hissed, shoving him back against the sink.

Billie Joe grabbed her upper arm harshly and raised his other hand.

"Dad, no!" screamed Joey from the doorway.

Billie froze, the position he was in sinking in gradually. He looked down at his daughter under his grip, as she looked back up at him, terrified. Adrienne's hands were clasped over her mouth, her tear stung eyes wide in fear.

What had this family turned into?

Slowly, Billie's raised hand fell and his grip loosened, all the while eyes fixed on October in realisation of what could have just happened. She stepped away from him, her breathing shaking from her throat. She turned, and ran out of the room, past her bawling brother, down the hallway, and out of the house.

The rest of the evening was spent without October, and as the night drew in, both parents felt they didn't really need to worry that she was still out, they understood she just needed some alone time. But then midnight came, and to say the least, they were worried sick. To make things more stressful, the teenager had left her cell phone behind in her school bag, so there was absolutely no way in contacting her.

The fearful parents used their daughter's cell to retrieve numbers of her friends, and started calling around, asking if any of them had seen her within the last eight hours or so. To their dismay, no one had seen or heard from her since school, and this started to break the parents down.

"This is all your fault," Adrienne whispered through the silent air, biting her nails viciously at the kitchen table.

Billie Joe removed his head from his hands on the opposite end, and stared up at his wife guiltily. "I'm so sorry," he whispered back.

"Just don't, Billie, I don't want to hear it."

Frank was awoken by the shrill of his cell phone. He jumped up out of his slumber to find himself in his apartment living room, on the sofa, still in his clothes that had now fortunately dried from all the rain earlier. He looked at the time on the cream wall behind him, the ringing still irritating his ears, to see that it was almost 12.52 in the morning.

Rubbing his drowsy eyes, a yawn escaped his lips and the pesky ringing finally stopped. Sighing heavily, he leaned over towards the coffee table and picked up the phone, reading the screen at who he just missed a call from. When he found Billie Joe's name, his heart sped up.

Had October told him everything and now Billie was calling to give him a piece of his mind? Was he calling to shout and swear at the younger man because he kissed his teenage daughter?

Knowing he couldn't deal with that tonight, Frank simply let it go, deciding he would give the excuse to the older man that he was asleep and didn't hear his phone. Nodding to himself in agreement of what he would do, the ringing started again.

"Fuck," Frank muttered, staring down nervously at the vibrating, noisey cell in his hand.

Maybe Billie wasn't going to give up, maybe he was going to repeatedly call Frank until he picked up. Fearing this was the case, he gave in and finally answered the call.

"Hello?" he croaked, not meaning to purposely. His voice wouldn't come out the normal way.

"Frank? Oh, God..."

Frank frowned. Billie Joe didn't sound angry, he didn't sound asthough he was about to bite Frank's head off, he sounded... scared.

"What's wrong?" asked Frank, and cleared his throat to stop his words coming out groggy.

"Please, tell me October is with you?" he pleaded into his ear.

So, instead of yelling at him to stay away from his daughter, he wanted her to be with him?

"Uh, no, no she's not," Frank answered.

"Oh no," Billie whimpered on the other end.

"Billie, what's going on, man?" questionned Frank, confused.

"She's gone missing," he replied, "She stormed out after school, leaving her cell, and we have no idea where she is. We've called around to everyone we can think of, this is just so not like her."

"Why did she storm out, did she say anything?"

"Well..." Billie began, "It was kinda my fault. See, the prinipal had called earlier and told us she had started a punch up with Hazel, one of her friends, and... I dunno, I just flipped. We got into this huge fight and... and I..."

He paused and Frank's frown deepened, thirsty for the rest of the sentence.

"I raised my hand to her, Frank, I-I didn't mean to-"

"You what?" Frank breathed in disbelief.

"I didn't hit her exactly," he defended, "But I said some horrible things to her... I don't know what came over me... And there's this whole panic attack thing, I mean, I didn't think I had passed it down to her in genes, but then Aidan was killed and she ended up in hospital from a vicious attack... What if she's having another one right now, what if no one's there to help her?"

"Oh, jeez," sighed Frank, putting his head in his free hand.

"I don't know what to do, Frank, I'm just so... stuck. I mean, should I call the police?" He sounded so helpless, so different to anything Frank had ever known of him.

"It's too early to call the police," Frank reasoned, "She's only been gone half the night, they won't do much of anything."

"What else can I do?" he cried.

Frank closed his eyes in thought, "Alright, um..." He squinted, wracking his brain for any kind of ideas, and released his eyelids again, "Maybe we should start searching seperate places, you know, individually to find her quicker, and perhaps Adie could stay home - Is Adie there? Does she know what's going on?"

"Yeah, yeah," Billie answered quickly.

"Okay, so Adie could stay incase October returns, and we'll go searching," Frank planned and pulled on his Converse with one hand, forgetting the laces, "Is there anywhere you can think of she could have gone?"

"Uh..." Billie trailed off in thought and released a long breath, "I-I don't know, maybe the bay or something?"

"Great," Frank replied, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket from the coffee table, "Okay, you check the bay and I'll try something else."

"Alright, call if anything."

"Yeah, you too." Frank hung up and stared straight ahead at the pretty picture pinned up on the opposite wall. He didn't know why, but the haunting image brought new thoughts to his head. Looking hard at the dark painting, the reds, black and greys swirling together beautifully, a name popped up. A name that Frank was sure would help to give answers to where October was at that moment in time.

Aidan.

October gulped down the strong, clear spirit straight from the litre bottle, and coughed as the overwhelming taste came out of her nostrils. The damp grass was creeping through to her pants and boxers, making her backside wet, causing goosebumps to swarm over her freezing skin. She glanced around at all the many ghostly shadows, and trembled a little as the cold continued to surround her, caving in until she would suffocate.

In the beginning of all of this, Frank was the hero. He was the one who promised he was going to help October. It had taken him a while to convince her to do her life without any help in the form of medication, he swore to her he was going to get her off them, he said she didn't need them. But she still wasn't sure.

And right now, vodka was the only thing to help her.

Who did Frank see? He saw this strong person with brilliant morals and excellent will power, and now he'd realised it was all an illusion, he bailed. It wasn't fair.

How could she have been so stupid to even think that he could even love her? Of course he didn't. Hazel was right, she was living in a stupid little fantasy world, she was being childish and selfish. And now she didn't even have her friend to help her, she didn't have any of her friends anymore. No one loved her.

How could anyone love her when she didn't even love herself? No one can love a train wreck. That's exactly what she was, a train without breaks that was fast going off a mountain, and it was beginning to become too late to be saved.

October gasped. Something was wrong. Her chest felt asthough it was being crushed and she held it tightly, trying to breath in. She couldn't.