My Stepdad, Billie Joe Armstrong (Daughter of Rage and Love)

Inside Your Restless Soul Your Heart Is Dying

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Knocking on the door of his small, compact house, I waited a minute before Richie opened the door. I almost choked on the smell of weed coming out of his home.

"Well hello there lovely! Haven't seen you in, uh, 5, no 6, no 7, no 8, no 9! 9 entire months of not seeing you! How could I have survived! Check my pulse, check my pulse, I may be a corpse who's alive and talking with you! That makes me a uh, what's the name...zombie! You should take a gun and shoot me in the head, PROTECT YOURSELF FELLOW EARHTLING!" he yelled the last part so loud he attracted the attention of the neighbors and passerby's, so I pushed him back into his house and said, "No, it's been 3 weeks, and you're not a zombie - otherwise you'll be trying to eat my brain and you won't have the capacity to talk. You're just high off your mind,"

"Ohhhhh okay," he said and smiled that little goofy smile of a weed smoker at me.

"Um, can I ask you a favor?" I asked him, hoping for the best.

"Yeah sure, anything, I still owe you from that last last pre-last of that last last time," he said, trying to look serious.

"Can you give me some weed and put it on the tab? I didn't bring money because I had to rush out, because, well, I didn't want to explain to my stepdad that my boyfriend kinda-sorta broke up with me. Please please please?" I asked him, giving him the puppy eyes.

"Oh sure sure, don't worry about it. You wanna talk about-" Richie started to say but I cut him off.

"No please, I don't and thank you, I really appreciate it," I said. He nodded his head and walked to the adjoining room. I sat on the couch and put my head back.

"Here you go," Richie reappeared a couple of minutes later, holding a bag with some rolled up joints already inside.

"Thanks, mind if I chill out here for a while?" I asked him.

"Oh sure, no problem," he said, sitting down next to me while lighting up another joint.

I put my head back, comfortable in this house, in his presence, and in this atmosphere, and somewhere along those lines, I fell asleep.

*a couple hours down the line...*

Coming awake with a gasp, I quickly sat up and looked around. The bag with a bunch of joints fell to the floor and I bent down to pick it up. They were lying next to a clock that glowed a bright green 9:50 pm.

"Hey! You're finally awake!" I heard Richie say. I looked up at him and asked, not really wanting to know the answer, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Since you came here around 1 pm, so like, 8 hours," he said happily.

Well shit.

"I guess I better go then, I have to get home," I said.

"Okay, don't forget to smoke those, they're really good, as in, prime quality!" he said and settled back in the love chair.

I nodded my head at him, then got up and walked outside.

A cool breeze swept up my hair and looking up, I saw a moon shining brightly. Looked like a full moon tonight. Checking my phone, I saw plenty of texts, calls and even 5 voice-mails from Billie. It's like he was worrying double - for my mom and for himself. About me. Me. Huh, this feels weird, what should I do? A call would be great, or even a text that says, 'I'm fine', my sub consciousness whispered in the back of my mind.

Or I could go smoke some weed.

I decided on the latter option, especially since I knew this area like the back of my hand. There was a pier not 6 blocks down from here, and since it ran parallel to the ocean and the highway, there were never too many people on it. Especially this time of night.

So I trudged on, ignoring the vibration coming from my butt thanks to Billie's worrying. Seriously, can this guy not take a hint?

Coming onto the pier, I walked down a little before deciding to climb over the railing, I jumped down on the rocks that came up right up to and kissed the pier, trying hard not to lose my balance. Everything was covered in unbelievably uncomfortable, unsteady rocks, constantly moving in and out with the tide. I walked over some of them before coming upon a giant flat rock big enough to sit on, known to the locals as the "Devil's Stone" (for a reason I didn't know).

Plopping down on it, I plugged in my headphones, and turned up the music. Jesus of Suburbia started playing softly as I lit up a joint.

Inhaling the first time, I enjoyed the feel of the smoke in my lungs, and the sweet, addictive smell as I breathed it out.

Inhaling the second time, I physically felt the worries leave my head.

Inhaling the third time, I felt happiness and warmth ooze into my soul.

Wow, Richie was right, this is strong.

Enjoying the rush and the happiness, it took me a couple of seconds to realize that someone had climbed over the railing and was making their way over to me.

Who in hell is-

Oh shit.

Well if it isn't Mr. Billie Armstrong himself.