PULLING TEETH {Billie Joe Armstrong)

🖤 Sixteen 🖤

A/N: TRIGGER WARNING: rape/ sexual content

Courtney spent the rest of the night with me. I gave her dinner, and I told her a few stories about back when Green Day was still together.

I opened up to her that night, and I was glad I did. After that, we could both be more honest and open with each other.

By 9:30, I knew she should probably go home. I didn't want her to, but she had school the next day.

"Babe, you should go home now. You need sleep. And I'd let you stay with me, but you might not get a good sleep." I told her.

She smiled at me with a seductive grin. "Why?" she asked. "Could you just not resist me?".

For the first time in a long time, I felt myself blush. "No, babe, I just…" I said, scratching the back of my neck. "You'll get a better sleep in your own bed.".

The smile disappeared from her face. "But I'll miss you.".

"I know, I'll miss you, too. But I'll come get you after school again, okay?".

"Okay." she sighed. Then she put her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss. I pulled her closer to me and let my lips linger near hers after she finished kissing me.

"I love you." I told her, resting my forehead against hers.

"I love you, too." she replied. "Thank you for everything. You're kind of like a dad to me now.".

"Babe, I'll be your daddy.".

She stepped back and looked into my eyes. "I thought you said no fucking yet.".

"Courtney," I sighed. "It's not that I don't want to. I just… don't want to get in trouble. If someone found out about us, I'd be in trouble because it would be illegal. I really don't want that to happen.".

"Okay." she said quietly.

I kissed her forehead and held her close to me for a moment. "I'm always here for you, okay?".

"Okay, Billie. Thanks for everything.".

Courtney's p.o.v

As I laid in bed, I thought about how much I hated high school. Baz made it better, because he made me feel less alone.

A year ago, we had done our yearly tradition of fucking each other down by our favorite bridge, then get totally wasted on the whiskey Baz smuggled from his parents alcohol stash, then fuck ourselves up even more with heroin.

But this year, that didn't happen. Because of me. Because I let him drive drunk. Because I let him die.

I felt so bad, and I wished it could've been me who was dead.

***

At school the next day, I sat alone outside again. I just sat there, lost in my thoughts, all by myself.

"Hey, slutface." I heard a rough voice say. I felt my hair being pulled and I looked up to see Marty, Baz's ex- best friend.

Back in grade eight and nine, Baz had been part of Marty's gang. For those two years, Marty, Baz, Edwin, Cole, and Noah seemed inseperable. They had done drugs, gone to wild parties, got into fights, and really fucked themselves up together.

Baz had drifted away from them, partly because I kept begging him to, but nonetheless they still cared about him.

Marty pulled me to my feet.

"You fucking murderer!" he said, pinning me against the brick wall.

"I'm sorry!" I said.

"Too fucking late." Edwin, one of Marty's droogs, meaning friend, told me.

Marty leaned in, his breath smelling like onions. "What are we gonna do with you, Courtney?" he asked, looking straight into my eyes. He turned his head and looked at his droogs. "What are we gonna do with this little slut?".

"Tie 'er up and shock 'er through the pussy." Edwin suggested.

"Then make her deepthroat all of us, one by one!" Cole said.

"Then force all of our cocks into her!" Noah said.

Marty roughly gripped my shoulders and all of them surrounded me, and Edwin and Noah held me to the wall while Marty got my belt off.

"Fucking stop, you guys!" I screamed. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!".

Someone's hand covered my mouth, then my leather miniskirt came down and I was exposed. Marty forced himself on me, and I hated every fucking second of it.

I bit the hand over my mouth, and someone screamed, then I began screaming again.

"Shut up!" Cole told me, pulling my hair.

"Ow! Stop that, you fucking dick!" I shouted.

"The more you scream, the more I pull your hair.".

"Use this." Noah told him, handing him some long strip of fabric.

Cole tied it around my head so I couldn't scream anymore. Then he tied another one around my eyes, and another around my two hands.

I heard all five of them laugh. I won't tell you about what they did to your humble narrator next, because it is much too gruesome to describe.

But at the very end, they knocked me onto the pavement and untied the cloth around my mouth.

"You're a bad girl, Courtney." Marty told me.

"Fuck you." I snapped.

He untied the cloth that blinded me, and I saw his droogs staring at my naked body.

Marty had this evil smile on his face and he put his hands around my breasts.

"You have a very nice body." he said.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off of me!" I yelled.

"Okay, okay, fine." he sighed. He untied the cloth from around my wrists and I was free. "Run!" he shouted, and him and his droogs ran to a car, got in, and before all the doors were shut, they took off.

I got my clothes on and stood there, all alone. For a few moments, I stood there, still processing what had just happened to me.

How to deal with gang rape isn't something your told how to do. How to deal with any sort of rape isn't something you're told how to do. You can tell people, and you can go to court and all that, but no one tells you how to deal with it mentally.

I skipped school and walked home that afternoon. I was going to run, but I was in too much pain.

When I got home, no one was there. So, I grabbed a few of my dad's records. Not to listen to, though.

                                ***

Billie's p.o.v

"We should really do this more often." I said to Tre as we sat in my living room, watching old Green Day tapes and drinking beer.

"We should." Tre agreed.

It made me miss the old days, watching those tapes. They were kind of hard to watch, but it was good to watch them again.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when my phone buzzed a few times.

I picked it up and saw I had messages from Courtney.

When I opened them, I saw a picture of boobs. Her boobs. There was a string of messages with misspelled words, too.

Comnbe f8nd me

I,m scared

Plaase fin d me

I knew that something was wrong; that she wasn't okay.