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Post by TABBY on Jul 19, 2005 12:57:25 GMT -5
please in afew minutes........ ;D
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Post by makeshiftwings56 on Jul 19, 2005 22:02:42 GMT -5
Hello. I'm new here, and I decided to post something. I like your story, it kicks ass.
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Post by whatsername on Jul 19, 2005 23:47:00 GMT -5
I'm gonna marry a Mike Dirnt look alike. Yeah, that's my dream.... Aaaaanyway.... ***********************************
Part Ten
Billie Joe just stared disbelievingly into my face. He gulped.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I haven't seen her in 11 years, but I didn't forget her name," I said, scratching at my arm. This whole matter didn't really.... MEAN much to me. I didn't care if she died, and who ran her over I would only need to thank.
"How can you act like that!" Tre said incredulously. I shrugged.
"Just don't care much, seeing as she abandoned me and never bothered to check up," I said, nonchalant.
Tre just shook his head and Mike stared. Billie Joe cleared his throat. I looked up at him.
"Do you wanna go see her?" he asked nervously.
"Not really. I don't care," I said.
"Yeah, well, you should. She's your mother! You can't do this to her!," Mike said, grabbing car keys from the counter,"You're going to go see her. Come on, get up. We're gonna go."
"Wha...? We are?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah, and Billie Joe, you're coming, too. I think you need to say something to her. Maybe something along the lines of an apology?" Mike said, walking to the front door. Tre followed, obviously wanting to witness the drama that was about to unfold. Billie Joe stood up reluctantly, and walked to the door as well, leaving me sitting dumbfounded at the kitchen table. What in the world?!
"Are you coming!!?" Mike shouted. I didn't really expect this to happen. I didn't wanna see her after 11 years!
"No!" I shouted back defiantly, crossing my arms. There was silence for a second and then Tre walked back into the kitchen. He walked up beside me and grabbed both of my hands and began pulling me out of the house.
"What the hell are you doing!? If I don't wanna see her, I don't have to!" I said, trying to pull free from his grasp. This was MY choice, not theirs!
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Watch your language, missy," he said tauntingly. I refrained my self from kicking him square in the balls. I guess people who are 18 years older than you are much stronger, because he practically carried me the rest of the way outside and dropped me in the backseat of his car.
"You've got to see her," said Billie Joe, sliding into the seat next to me,"Especially if she's close to dying. And that would be all my fault," he said guiltily.
"Then I should thank you, I suppose," I said, staring out the window as we pulled out of the driveway.
"I can't believe you. You're crazy," Mike said from the drivers seat. I didn't say anything.
"Aren't you the slightest bit excited after seeing her after all these years?" Billie Joe prodded.
"Nope," I said simply, crossing my arms again and continuing to stare out the window. They said nothing more. Though Billie kept shooting furtive glances at me.
We were on the highway quickly, and I recognized it as the road I had walked the night before. I closed my eyes as we crossed the bridge that I was so keen on throwing myself off of. I wonder who had stopped me... ...? I turned to Billie Joe suddenly.
"Who stopped me yesterday?" I asked quickly. Surprisingly, I didn't feel ashamed at all.
"Huh?" he asked stupidly. I rolled my eyes.
"Who STOPPED me yesterday? From jumping?" I asked again.
"Oh, that was me," he said, looking a bit embarrased.
"Thanks," I said, and then continued staring at the trees we were passing at speeds I was sure were above the limit. I could feel Billie Joe's eyes boring into the back of my head, and Tre turned around to look at me.
"I think what he's trying to say is 'You're welcome, I stop suicidal teenagers all the time'," Tre said jokingly from the front seat. Billie Joe and I gave him identical glares.
"Woah, okay. Shutting up now," Tre said, quickly turning around. I smirked at him. He was just like he was on TV. Just... ... himself.
++++++20 silent minutes later+++++++
"Well, here we are," Mike said, pulling into a parking spot at the rear of the lot.
"Man, now we have to walk all the way there," Tre said getting out of the car. I got out too, and stared at the giant gray building looming up ahead. Somewhere, in there, was my dying mother? And I was gonna see her for the first time in 11 years? With Green Day?!
"Basketcase," I muttered, rubbing my eyes.
"What?" Mike asked, locking the car.
"I'm a basketcase," I said, walking away from them and toward the hospital.
"No you're not! Now, Tre, THERE'S a basketcase," shouted Mike after me. I heard Billie Joe laugh and Mike's 'ow' as Tre punched him in the arm. They caught up with me a few seconds later. It seemed like a long walk, because we were all glad to reach the sliding glass doors, and the fresh burst of air conditioning we were hit with once inside. California summers were horrible.
Everything inside was clean, white, and spotless. Nurses and doctors were running around in white, crisp uniforms, attending to the various people sitting in the waiting room. We walked up to the front desk, and before anyone of us had even opened our mouths, the nurse told us rudely to sit down and wait until we were called up. I glared at her, but Billie Joe pulled at my hand and motioned for me to sit down along with Mike and Tre. I walked over to them grudgingly, talking about how nurses were nothing but bitch barbies dressed up to only look nice. Billie Joe smiled and pulled me into a seat after I was still standing and glaring at the nurse at the desk for another few seconds. I sat down with a plop, sunk down low in my chair, and let out a long sigh.
"That's horrible posture," Tre teased, who put his feet on the chair next to mine, sitting across from me. Billie Joe sat next to him, and Mike next to me.
"Look who's talking," I grumbled. We sat there for about 20 minutes, as Tre, Mike, and Billie Joe talked. I asked him how his arm felt, he just shrugged and said it only hurt when he moved his fingers. I was pulling at my necklace, nervously waiting as more and more people were called to the front desk. Why the hell was I nervous?!
"What's that?" Billie Joe asked suddenly, pointing at me. I looked down at my necklace, it was just a black guitar pick on a thick gray cord.
"Well, that my friend, is called a 'pick'. Musicians often use it to play stringed instruments called 'guitars'," I said sarcastically.
"No, you idiot. I know what THAT is. But what's THAT. On your shoulder," he pointed again, leaning forward.
"Oh, that's just a tattoo," I said. I turned around to show it to them. It was on the back of my shoulder, on my shoulder blade, only visible when I wore tank tops. I had gotten it on my 13th birthday, as a present from the owner of a tattoo parlor I had worked at for 3 months the previous summer. It was, ironically, of a guitar pick as well with a single blood red rose in the center. It was all black and white, except the petals of the tiny flower. The whole thing was no bigger than a quarter.
"And how old are you again?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. I stuck out my tongue at him and didn't answer.
"You four," called Ms. Bitch from her desk, which was covered in stacks of neat paper. I walked over to her, followed by the other three.
"I'm looking for a Vivian Clore, she was in a car accident," I explained impatiently. She raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
"And who might you be?" she asked snottily.
"I, am her daughter, Karla Vivian Clore. And I would really appreaciate it if I knew where to find her," I said, anger clearly audible in my voice. She glared down her powdered nose at me and began typing at her computer. And a few seconds later... ... ...
"Room 313. Third floor. And you might want to hurry, she doesn't seem to have much longer," Ms. Super Bitch said, smiling slightly. I glared at her, and pushed over a giant stack of neat papers, sending them crashing to the floor. She let out a strangled cry as they flew all over room.
"Ooops. My fault," I smiled sweetly and turned on my heel, heading for the elevators. Tre, Mike, and Billie Joe followed me into the first empty one I found.
"I must say, that was absolutely necessary," Mike said reassuringly. I didn't say anything, but looked at my reflection in the cold steel doors of the elevator. They parted as the three above our heads lighted up. I walked down the hall to my left and glanced at the doors as they increased in number. 299, 301, 303, 305, 307, 309, 311... ... 313. I stopped dead outside it, and Tre nearly ran into me.
"Er, should I go in first?" Billie Joe asked gently. I shook my head and reached for the door and pushed it open. I quickly stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the dim light inside the room. And then I saw her. She was lying in the bed, eyes closed, and if it wasn't for the constant beep of the monitor, I'd have thought her dead. I slowly walked up beside the bed, and stared down at my mother.
I stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. Her face was the same, though it displayed many cuts and bruises from the accident, but still the same. A kind, gentle face. The one I saw when I was scared of the dark and crawled into her bed, the one that showed me how to jump rope, the one that bought me my first Green Day CD, the day before she left. Her blonde hair was splayed out on the pillow like a halo. I felt the sudden urge for her to open her eyes. To see me, her daughter. The one she had abandoned for so long, without good reason. The one she left to suffer for the next eleven years. Open your eyes. Open your eyes, and see.
And then, she did.
I nearly gasped. She stared up blankly from her gray eyes into my identical ones. I saw something spark in them.
"Karla... ..." she whispered. I got choked up, and only nodded down at her. She smiled weakly, and tears started flowing down the sides of her face. I just stared incredulously at her.
"You're beautiful. Just like I always knew you would be," she said in a weakening whisper. I just stared at her. I hadn't heard that voice since she used to sing me lullabies. A tear escaped my eye. She continued to stare at me as though soaking in my appearance.
"Why? Why did you leave me and Joey?" I said, voice cracking.
Her eyes suddenly seemed to glaze over.
"I know you'll do anything you'll ever want. Go far sweety... ... ... I love you... ... I'm so sorry," she whispered, smiling painfully up at me. She took my hand and gave it one last squeeze.
And then, she died.
The machine at her side let out a steady beeeeeeeeeeeep. I looked down at our entwined hands and saw something shiny in hers. I gently untangled it from her fingers. It was a key on a long, silver, chain. I stuffed it in my pocket without looking at it, and turned around to face Mike, Billie Joe, and Tre. I glanced at my mothers dead face one last time, I knew for the last time in my life.
"Let's go," I said quietly, walking out of the room. They walked quietly behind me, as a group of nurses rushed into the room we had just left.
I did not cry. I did not feel sad, or lonely. Not even angry that my mom had left me so quickly, just as I had found her again. I didn't feel anything. I just felt numb. I didn't even notice Ms. Bitch glaring at me as we stepped off the elevator, or the hot wave that rushed over me as I stepped into the parking lot. I walked a little ways infront of the rest, until we reached the car. I did not say anything the entire ride back, not even when Mike turned on the radio and 'Holiday' came blaring out of the speakers. I saw Tre wince in the front seat and Billie Joe fidget beside me. Mike just cut it off really quickly, and glanced at me in the rear view mirror. I just stared at the back of his seat, showing no signs of recognition that I had even heard the radio turn on.
By the time we got back, night was already starting to fall. I got out of the car, and walked directly into the house and up to my 'guest' room. I flopped down on my bed. I lay there for a few minutes, absorbing everything that had happened to me in the last hour. I sat up and curiously pulled the key out of my pocket by its fine silver chain. There was a small inscription.
BERKLEY'S STORAGE BOX 3991
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Post by TABBY on Jul 20, 2005 0:08:51 GMT -5
omg, PLEASE UPDATE!!!!!
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Post by makeshiftwings56 on Jul 20, 2005 1:34:29 GMT -5
Cliffhanger, cliffhanger, cliffhanger. Damn those things.
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Post by xX*Sophie*Xx on Jul 20, 2005 10:27:51 GMT -5
OOOOOOMMMMMMGGGGG! She died, I can't believe it...Ok, you've got me hooked, update!!!!
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Post by whatsername on Jul 20, 2005 11:47:54 GMT -5
lol, y'all are funny. i'll update tonight, don't worry. i need to think anyway.
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Post by TABBY on Jul 20, 2005 11:58:22 GMT -5
YAY!!!!!
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Post by xX*Sophie*Xx on Jul 20, 2005 13:20:52 GMT -5
Tonight is all very well, but for myself, the UK-USA time difference is too much for my little brain to handle. Some of us have to sleep!
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Post by whatsername on Jul 20, 2005 16:56:16 GMT -5
oh, very sorry for braces. i lived in germany for 8 years, so i know all about time difference, what a pain in the ass. wait a sec... a person in the UK is reading my story?! wtf?! lol, thats so cool to me. to be able to post my stories and have people all around the world reading them... ... i'm really amazed, lol.
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Post by whatsername on Jul 20, 2005 16:59:59 GMT -5
braces, you're three hours ahead of me, so you'd be reading at 3 a.m. *eye twitches* yeah, sorry bout that. maybe i'll post earlier tonight!
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Post by TABBY on Jul 20, 2005 21:51:46 GMT -5
lol, please update soon
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Post by whatsername on Jul 20, 2005 23:05:38 GMT -5
I like cupcakes. Thought y'all should know. ********************************************************
Part Eleven
I made my way down the stairs, thinking about what we were going to eat for dinner. And wether or not I should call Diana and tell her what happened to my mother... ... Oh, well. There was nothing she could do about it. What was done, was done, and there was nothing ANYONE could do about it. My fingers twitched involuntarily. They always did that when I didn't play my guitar for atleast an hour everyday. They were going through a guitar-playing withdrawal. I hadn't had my hands on one for a week now. I was really suffering!
"Arrrgh!" I cried out in frustration, grabbing my necklace violently and pulling at it as I walked into the living room. Tre, Mike, and Billie Joe were lounging on the sofa, watching TV, and looked up at me as I came in.
"Don't go crazy on us," Tre said. Oh, you should be talking! But I didn't say that outloud. I sighed and dug my hands into my pockets, hoping to keep them still. Mike reached down beside him and held up my phone.
"One of your friends called," Mike said, smiling slightly, " She was ranting about some concert tickets or something."
"You answered my phone?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and taking it out of his hand. He shrugged.
"You might want to call her back, she sounded as if she was going to have a heart attack," Mike said.
"Must be good tickets," I grumbled, punching Diana's home number. Her phone only rang once before she picked it up and let out a scream when she found out it was me. I winced and held the phone away from my ear.
"Okay, okay. Will you calm down?? What's this about concert tickets?" I asked.
"Oh my friggin' GOD! I've got MCR tickets!! And when I say tickets, I mean PIT tickets and backstage passes!!" she screamed, this time nearly splitting my ear drum. But I was excited too.
"MCR?! As in, My Chemical Romance, MCR?!" I asked, starting to freak out as well. Mike, Tre, and Billie Joe looked at me strangely.
"Yes!! And PIT tickets. AND backstage passes! The concert isn't 'til next month, but still... ... Oh my God, I'm gonna faint!" she said excitedly.
"Jeezum! Oh my God, this is gonna be absolutely AWESOME! How the heck did you get a hold of those??" I said.
"My mum got them for me as a 'Congratulations, you're-going-to-high-school' gift," she said breathlessly.
"Wow. Sorta makes me wish my mother wasn't dead," I said quietly. There was silence on the other end, and then-
"What? She died?!" Diana asked incredulously.
"Yeah. Oh well, no great loss. I can't wait for the concert, it's next month?" I asked casually. I made my way into the kitchen and glanced in the fridge. We were seriously low on food... ... not good. I cracked open a can of soda and sat down at the counter.
"Wow. Well, did you even get a chance to talk to her?" Diana asked.
"Yeah, but only for a second," I said, glancing at Billie Joe as he came into the kitchen, followed by Tre. Tre opened the fridge and began his search for food and produced three bottles of beer. He handed one to Billie Joe. I walked up to him and snatched it from his left hand, and put it back in the fridge. He stared at me, stupefied.
"What was that noise?" Diana asked.
"Oh, just stealing beer from Billie Joe. Adrienne said he WASN'T supposed to have any," I said pointedly at him. He grumbled and walked back into the living room, clutching his broken arm. Diana laughed on the other line.
"Oh my God, I still can't believe this is happening," she said, "Do they know that you know who they are???"
"Nope. And I'm planning on keeping it that way until the opportune moment," I said quietly, as Tre headed back into the living room.
"The opportune moment, huh?" she said, laughing again. I smiled.
"Yeah," I said.
"Ugh, I gotta go! Mom's calling me. Okay, but don't forget to call everyday or else I get all worried. Buh bye!" she said.
"See, what do I need a mother for when I have you? See ya!" I said, and hung up. I felt much lighter all of a sudden. MCR tickets AND backstage passes. I walked back into the living room humming and plopped myslef down on the cushiony floor.
"You're happy, aren't you?" Tre asked.
"Absolutely!" I said, lying down and staring at the high ceiling.
"So, what concert tickets did your friend get?" Billie Joe asked, still slightly miffed that he hadn't gotten his beer.
"My Chemical Romance. And not just any tickets. PIT tickets, and backstage passes!" I laughed. This was going to be awesome!
"Really? Sounds like fun...," Mike said.
"You have no idea. I've never been to an MCR concert, I've only ever gone to G-," I cut myself off really quickly. Oh shit, what had I done? Maybe they hadn't noticed... ...
"Sorry, only ever been to what concerts?" Billie Joe asked, leaning forward interestedly. My mind was racing... G, what other band started with a G?!
"Good Charlotte," I said quickly, still staring at the ceiling as a car commercial played on the TV. I held my breath.
"Oh," was all Billie said. God, that was another close one. Gotta be more careful... ... My fingers twitched again.
"Why do you keep doing that??" Mike asked, pointing at my right hand.
"I haven't played a guitar in over a week. I'm going through a music withdrawal," I said, sitting up to look at him.
"You wanna play guitar?" Billie Joe asked.
"Hell, yes," I said, smirking.
"Well, then follow me," he said, getting up. I pulled myself off the floor and followed him around the kitchen and to another door. He opened it and it showed a flight of steps going down. The basement. He started down the stairs, and I was one step behind him. When we reached the bottom, Billie Joe was looking for the light switch. I stared into the darkness, trying to see what it hid. Then, the room was illuminated and I was momentarily blinded, before letting my jaw drop.
The entire room was filled with nothing but guitars. They hung all over the walls and stood in racks on the right wall. Jeeeeeesus Christ! Billie Joe looked admiringly around the room.
"Holy.... crap," was all that would come out of my mouth.
"Pick a guitar, any guitar," he said, waving his good arm across the room.
"Are you serious?" I said, dumbfounded. He nodded. I heard Tre and Mike come down the stairs, and they grinned at my amazement. I walked around the room, staring at every model of Gibson and Fender and Les Paul I could think of. I finally stopped at the rack and picked out a hot red Fender Strat. I pulled the strap over my head and turned to look at the other three.
"Got any picks and a thousand amps?" I asked devilishly.
******************************************************************* Sorry, had to cut it short. My mom said I have to go to bed! Poo!
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Post by xX*Sophie*Xx on Jul 21, 2005 2:02:19 GMT -5
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! You updated. Yep, I'm from good old england... I'm reading this at 8 in the mornign so it's.....5 in America? I dunno, I'm not good at these things. Aghhhh Update! UPDATE! Have some cupcakes and UPDATE!
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