Tragedy(Billie Joe Armstrong) (#Wattys2018)

Chapter 57: Decisions

Bandit's POV

There's nothing to analyze. There is literally nothing to analyze. A few straight facts repeating in my head that's it!

"You either be happy with Gee and Mikey or you be happy Beej, Mike, and Tré," I told myself as I paced in my room. I locked the boys out of my room, they were sitting in the hall in front of it and can probably hear me.

"There's your problem dumb fuck how would you choose between them? You can't exactly! But there's two other facts to this, live in hell or live with Dad. Well that makes it obvious right?" I finally sat in my chair, "it should."

What could help me? What can? I looked and saw my journal and camera. Journal comes before everything. I flipped through skimming the pages. Boy, did I suck at writing last year. I got to my more recent stuff.

I read through the scribbles of Billie's lyrics. The full length pages full of crossed out words written by me. The page where Gerard and I decided to draw a broken heart, write our names in it and write "Best Friends" above it. We are so corny... it's sad. I turned the page to the song. The song I started in September and kept editing it until I liked it. I still don't really like it yet but it's the best it can get. The song I wrote for Billie. Wow I am corny! I need to stop.

That didn't help. Said the same thing I've been thinking. You love it here and you love it there. You got a problem here and you got a problem there. "Fuck," I yelled and threw the journal.

"Is she okay?" I heard Mike.

"Definitely not," Billie answered. "Hey Bandit can you let us in please?"

"No," I said in a dead angry voice. I didn't mean for it to sound that cold but I'm freaking out.

I picked up the camera even though it's not going to help. I took out the film and held it to the light and saw some of the photos as I quickly glanced over the small photos. It was about seventy-five percent pictures of Billie and I. Then there was dumb moments of all of us. Then there were pictures from Jersey over spring break.

I rolled the film back up and set it on my desk. I need to develop these and actually look at them. I placed the camera next to it and pulled out my disposable camera, I set it with the film and stood up.

"Mike!" I said.

"Yes Bandit," he answered.

I opened the door a crack and saw the three lined up against the wall. "You've been summoned, come hither," I told him using that language for no reason at all. I let Mike slip in ignoring Tré and Billie's worried faces. I shut the door and locked it again. "You are the only one that is rational, help me."

"Bandit I don't know how," he sighed.

"If you were me what would you do?" I asked.

"Honestly I would leave, because I wouldn't be able to take abuse like that Bandit. You're the strongest person I know and I can't believe you've dealt with it for so long," he sat on my bed.

"I truly can't do it anymore," I nodded.

"I know you don't wanna hear the 'but' to that statement," he said.

"No, speak," I need every bit of information I can get.

"In my shoes, I don't get to see you and I love you Bandit you're like my little sister now. Tré is gonna be a... a sad little thing," we each laughed at his comment, "and Billie oh my god don't even get me started on how he'll be."

"Yeah, that makes me feel worse," I sighed.

"But the three of us want you to be safe. Tré still doesn't know the whole story about John and your," he pointed to my hand, "like Billie and I do, but we all know enough to know that you're dying in here and any chance you get you need to get out."