Tragedy(Billie Joe Armstrong) (#Wattys2018)

Chapter 4: Emerald Eyes

Bandit's POV

I woke up to a banging on my door, what in the hell?! I got up barely awake and wobbled over to the door I opened it and I got smacked in the face. Good morning. I looked up and let my vision clear and saw my stepdad. He grabbed my shirt and pushed me against the wall.

"Where the hell were you?" He asked.

"Outside," I said softly.

"Do that again and I will kill you," he growled.

"We all die, just depends when," I retorted.

"You're lucky your mother cares if you're alive or not," he snorted before leaving. Wow, he's calm today. I locked the door again and looked at the time. Noon. Eh, not that bad.

I put on a green tank top and black jean shorts. I tied a gray hoodie around my waist then put on my usual makeup of foundation, concealer, and thick eyeliner. I brushed my hair out then slipped on my sneakers. I put my cigarettes, matches, and house key in my pocket then went downstairs. I ate a bowl of cereal then left. Oh if only I could run away now. But no, I only have a few dollars to buy my next pack of cigarettes if I don't need to show ID. I love it when cashiers are idiots and let you just buy illegal items instead of getting in the way of my addiction.

I grabbed my board and set out to no where. Absolutely no where. I guess I'll ride up and down every street until I know everything about the place. I lit up a cigarette and rode around. The breeze in my face was calming.

I went straight through the neighborhood and I could hear the ocean. Oh yeah, the beach is like right here. Well the bay is. I don't have my bathing suit but hanging out on the beach seems nice.

I made my way to the sand and sat on a bench. I leaned my board next to me and shut my eyes. This may be my escape place. I wish I had a book, or music, or even a friend. Wait, what day is it? Friday... that party is tonight.

Maybe I'll make friends, maybe everyone will hate me. I don't know. I'm not that likable. I smoke, my natural face is a death glare, and I look like a bum 24/7. Classic stereotypical female worries of looking bad.

I have a few hours until I have to get ready. I got up and slipped my shoes off. I walked into the water and let my feet get wet. I easily got bored. I let my feet dry then started back on my ride around.

I rode past the house where I heard that band. I hope I hear them again soon, their music was just amazing. I went around the corner and past a boy. Our eyes locked. He had the brightest green eyes. Like emeralds. He let out a puff of smoke and I turned the corner. Who was that?

I got back to my house and extremely slowly got ready. I like taking my time. Since it'll be a first impression I should actually try to look good.

After trying on a few things I picked out black jeans, a cropped Sex Pistols shirt, and my all time favorite leather jacket. Simple but presentable. I took a usual long shower. I sat under the water for a while staring into the wall.

Will it stop? Will he stop? Will I ever enjoy "sexual pleasure"? Will I ever get out of here? Will I ever see Gerard again before high school ends? Will I ever find a friend like him? Questions that will either never be answered or be learned through time.

I got out of the shower and dried off. I blew my hair dry and put on my clothes. I let my hair stay natural, then I did my normal makeup. Of course the eyeliner was a pain in the ass and I had to redo it twice.

I put on my Chuck Taylors and walked downstairs. "Where are you going?" My stepdad asked.

"To a friend's house," I mumbled.