Lady Madonna

I Did It

YEAR: 1968

"What do ye mean my mum is dead?" I whispered, not wanting to believe it.
"Yer sister said she died rather suddenly,"
"Oh my god," I whispered. I let go of the girls hands and fell back onto the wall.
"Maggie, honey," Paul whispered. He quickly handed Stella to Nancy and ran to me. "Maggie, darling, please stay with me." His eyes became glassy as he shook me lightly, trying to get me out of my shocked state.
"Paul," I cried.
"What is it love?" He fell to the ground with me.
"She's gone..." I fell onto him and cried into his shoulder.
"I know love...I know..."

***

I haven't left my room in days. Paul comes in once every couple hours and sets a glass of water on the night stand along with a sandwich. I refuse to eat. I refuse to drink. I refuse to move from my place on the bed.

"Maggie," Paul whispered. He walked in around noon to give me a sandwich and a glass of water.
"Get it out Paul," I mumbled.
"Maggie, please eat,"
"No,"
"Maggie," he said sternly.
"No Paul! It's my body! I choose what goes in it! Get it out!"
"Yer slowly killing yer self!"
"I don't care!"
"But I care! I can't live without ye! The girls can't live without ye!" He sighed and sat down on the bed. "Maggie, I reacted the same way when my mum died and John acted the same when his mum died. It happens...yer gonna be sad and that's perfectly fine but ye need yo take care of yer self,"
"Paul-"
"Lady Madonna," he softly sang.
"What are ye doing?" He smiled and cuddled up with me in bed.
"Children at your feet. Wonder how you manage to make ends meet,"
"What are ye doing?" I slightly chuckled.
"Who finds the money, when ye pay the rent. Did you think that money was heaven sent,"
"Please stop," I mumbled.
"Okay," he whispered. "Yer dad wants ye to be in America for the funeral,"
"I don't wanna-"
"It's yer mum Maggie! We're going. I booked a flight for tomorrow morning,"
"I'm not going,"
"Oh honey pie, ye weigh 2 stone. I could lift ye with my pinky,"
"Sod off,"
"Love ye too."

***

The next morning, Paul forced me out of bed and drove the family to the airport. There, were rushed through lines and did our best to dodge fans. After a few hours, we were off to America. Once we landed, we rushed through the airport once more and hauled a taxi. Before I knew it, I was at my childhood home. I slowly got out of the car and dragged my feet up to the front door, leaving my family and the luggage in the car. I hesitantly knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. After a few moments, my father answered the door.

"Dad..." I whispered.
"Come here honey." I quickly fell into his arms and cried into his chested.
"She's dead dad! She's dead, and it's all my fault!"
"What do you mean?"
"She heard about the wedding," I whimpered.
"What wedding? Darling, she died in her sleep,"
"What?"
"She's died in her sleep...none of us knew about the wedding..."
"Why did she die?"
"She just got old honey...it happens,"
"S-So she didn't die because of me?"
"Are you thinking she went into shock? Y'know, finding out that you weren't really married and you had two kids outta wedlock?" he let out a faint chuckle.
"Well...yeah..."
"Oh honey," he pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back. "It'll be okay,"
"How are ye not phased by this!"
"I am...it's just...I've had Lin helping me...hasn't Paul been helping you?"
"I've been trying," he smirked. He lugged the girls and the luggage into the house.
"Nice to see you again Paul," dad sighed. "I see you've added another one to your collection," he motioned to Stella.
"I thought Lin told ye," I mumbled.
"She said she had to go to London to help you but she never said what,"
"And you haven't been reading the papers I presume,"
"Never have, never will. So what's her name?"
"Stella,"
"That was your grandmothers name," he smiled.
"I know...so when's the funeral?"
"Tonight...I'd get ready if I were you,"
"Alright," I sighed.

***

Later that night, we met up with old family friends, family members, and towns people I have never met; we were all dressed in black. I didn't want to see my mother. I couldn't stand seeing her lying there, cold and dead. I remained seated in my chair with Stella while everyone else when up and said their final goodbyes.

"Maggie, ye really should go up," Paul whispered.
"I'm not mentally strong enough Paul,"
"And ye think I was? A fourteen year old boy, seeing his mother dead. No ones ready or strong enough to see their loved one dead,"
"Paul-"
"Please go..."
"Fine." I handed Stella to Paul and walked out of the room.
"That's not what I meant," he grumbled.

***

"What the fuck was that!" Paul yelled, walking into our hotel room with the girls. "When I told ye to go, I didn't mean literally!"
"I'm sorry," I mumbled. I was sitting in bed, with my glasses and pajamas on.
"No yer not," he shook his head in disappointment.
"Hey, fuck you. It's my mother. If I didn't wanna say goodbye to her, I didn't have to say goodbye to her. So ye know what Paul, ye can go fuck yer self,"
"Maggie!"
"What!"
"I can't fucking believe ye!" he groaned. "Girls," he sighed, "please go to your room...ye shouldn't have to hear this,"

As soon as all of the girls, including Stella, were out of the room, Paul took the book from my hands and threw it across the room. I twisted my face as I saw my book fly across the room. My vision soon went blurry as Paul removed my glasses.

"Paul, what the f-" I was cut off by a familiar pair of lips crashing into mine. "Paul," I moaned. He began placing little kisses down my neck. "Stop," I whispered. "Stop!" I shoved him off of me. "Yer drunk!" I cried.
"No I'm not,"
"I can taste the alcohol on yer breath!"
"Hush love," he kissed me once more.
"Yer fucking high too!" I kicked him off the bed. "My mum just died and ye have the fucking nerves to do this shit? Fuck you!"
"Yer not acting like it!"
"Acting like what?" I pouted.
"Like yer mother just died..."
"Fuck you," I spat. I collected some of my things and began heading for the door.
"Where are ye going?"
"Away from you," I mumbled. I headed for the door; as soon as I turned the knob, Paul called to me.
"Maggie!"
"What?"
"Don't forget these..." he whispered as he handed me my glasses.
"Thanks..." I whispered back. "Goodbye honey pie."

And with that, I was gone.