𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 - 𝘄.𝗿.

xxi. 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴

ULTRAVIOLENCE
DEBUT ALBUM

*iris jones' point of view*

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WARREN AND i are about seven hours into a nine-hour flight to philadelphia. warren has been in shambles since we left this morning, and i clearly don't blame him. he got the call around four days ago and he's calmed down a ton since then, but i think right now it's hitting him that he's about to attend a funeral for his mother.

i could never imagine going through what he's going through right now. i didn't plan on coming with him to philadelphia, honestly, but he practically begged to me the other day. it was hard to say no.

it's not that i didn't want to go, i do. i want to support him through this; it's the least i can do for him after everything he's done for me, but i didn't know if this was something he wanted to do alone or not.

he still hasn't told the band, either. though, i'm sure they know somethings up because warren hasn't been acting his normal self. he's not cracking jokes every minute, hell he's hardly even smiled. eddie has pulled me aside a few times to ask what's happening but i haven't had the heart to tell him nor is it my place.

i wish this wasn't happening. i wish warren didn't have to deal with pain. he deserves everything under the sun and more. he shouldn't be crying in my arms until three in the morning, he shouldn't be shaking every minute because he's so afraid something else is going to fall in his life. it's just not right.
give me his pain. all of it. please. i can't see him like this much longer. it breaks my heart.

he stirs on my shoulder, asleep. probably for the first time since he got the call. i keep running my fingers through his hair, in comfort, wanting him to find some sleep before he sees his family.

he knocks on the door to his childhood home a few times. he's hardly said anything to me since we got off of the plane about an hour ago. i don't think he's adjusted to everything just yet. when the door finally opens, i see a girl -- probably about thirteen years old -- and i automatically assume that this is jesse, just based off of the pictures i've seen of her. she smiles at warren and then to me with a very forced and fake smile, one i know very well. she says hi to the both of us and just walks back inside.

not long after we both walk in, a man, who i also assume is declan, walks up to us. he has this miserable look plated on his face, one that looks very similar to warren. it hurts me to see these people who have been nothing but kind to this world have something taking from them.

"you must be iris? the one i talked to on the telephone?" declan says to me as he holds out his hand in greeting.

"yes, i'm iris. it's great to finally get to meet you, mr. ledger." i shake his hand with a smile that is full of empathy that i hope he's able to see.

"please, call me declan or dec, as warren calls me." there's a pause in the conversation as declan watches his daughter, jesse, wipe her eyes as she walks up the stairs that sit adjacent to the foyer that we are currently standing in.

i can't imagine how the death of a mother feels to a thirteen-year-old little girl. my sister left me around that age, someone who i trusted with my whole life, someone who practically raised me and knew every single secret of mine. but that was completely different than this. this is real. i always had a feeling that i'd see daisy again, even though we aren't talking right now, she's alive and that's enough for me to happy about the situation. jesse on the other hand, she is just a little girl with a whole life in front of her and her mom won't be here to see it.