Last Night On Earth | Billie Joe Armstrong

ONE

1 | Georgia Lee

February 15th 1990

Carefully, I wrap the paper around his gift, smiling with pure glee, knowing he'd unwrap it and share my excitement.

I could just imagine him, in the future, in-front of thousands of people, strumming the guitar I'd brought him, showing it off proudly to the world. Maybe he'd annouce, "Hey everyone! My girlfriend got me this guitar."

I made sure to paint it after I'd picked it up. Originally, it was pure red. Instead, I painted it black with green streaks across it, something I believe would be more his style.

Outside, the rain thrashed against my window, making it impossible to hear my own thoughts. That was until a knock echoed throughout my home. It was harsh, with an angry but desperate edge to it, as if someone was begging to get in. It couldn't have been my parents, as they had travelled to Germany for the week, and my sister had left to attend a party, of which I had no interest in. I've never been into drinking or loud music. That wasn't the type of life I wanted to fall into.

I stood up from my uncomfortable postion on the floor and made my way across the hallway to my sisters room, which had a large window to see the front garden.

And I saw him.

He was stood at the end of the path, not under the awning, just soaking up the rain. His hoodie and pants were drenched. His handsome face had turned away from my direction. He leaned against the fence impatiently, he hadn't realized anyone was home.

I sped down the stairs, not wanting him to get any more wet.

I slide the lock off the door, before practically tearing it open. Billie turns to me, but he doesn't smile like he usually does. He gives me a cold look, a kind of seriousness I'd never seen before. A glance of uncertainty, one that stung deep within my heart. No word could hurt more than this.

I knew.

Leaving the door open, I walk to the end of the the path, in a tanktop and shorts, with my feet bare, as if I was stuck in a trace. Lured in by the end, or rather, the possibility I was overreacting.

A look couldn't mean anything, right?

"Im sorry." He said, before I even had the chance to open my mouth. I nod. His hands clasp over my cheeks, but not with affection, like he did before. No, this was a goodbye. "I can't live a lie anymore." a tear streams down his cheek.

"What?" I ask, pretending to be clueless. I don't want this to be easy for him.

"I can't."

"Can't what?"

"This."

I knew this would come eventually, but nobody told me when, or what I should say, or do.

"But-"

He shakes his head. "Georgia" The nickname had gone, and god, I wish he could atleast give me that. "What I am is different from what you need."

"I need you." I wanted to be serious, however my voice cracked, making me beg pathetically. I need him more than sunlight, Now I wonder if he needed me like that.

"No." He shakes his head. "I'm not good for you, Georgia. I'd only drag you down. You're an achiever, I'm just a dreamer. I'd only get in the way." He removes his hands from my face for the last time, and the crippling weight of the world he took off my shoulders has been dropped right back to where it was.

He never broke my heart, he fixed it, and now I can truly feel the hurt. Its raw. It stings.

I wasn't a saint, I made mistakes. But god I'm only human. But nothing, nothing he did would change my perspective on him.

"I don't want to move away. I don't want to go to college. Hell, I'm not even staying in high-school" He continues.

Stop talking, I want to plead for him to keep quiet. Please give me some decency. Please just give me this moment to accept the end, thats all I ask.

"I want to start a band. I've always wanted this, you know that. But, I don't think you could live that life comfortably." Does he think I'm too weak to handle travelling and the odd-concert? "I'm doing this for us."

"Don't give me that bullshit." I bark, stepping back, letting my feet scrape across the wet gravel. "Fuck you." I mumble through my tears.

He looks shocked.

I've never spoken to him like that, I've never wanted to before. But, he's never hurt me like this before.

Walking backwards towards the front door, I watch as the man I had planned my life around slowly tears everything I've wanted into the tiniest peices, because his dreams matter more than ours.

We could have been in sync, two lives so seperate, yet together. He could have travelled all over the world, and I would stay, writing. I would have been fine, as long as I knew he'd return home eventually. We could have worked like that.

But no.

I walked straight into his dagger, and I was left wondering what kind of fool am I?