Green Day One Shots (Mostly Millie) {FINISHED}

xanny // Trillie

***TW// MAJOR MENTIONS OF ABUSE, DEATH, AND CALLING OF THE REALLY BAD F WORD***

Billie hissed as he pulled his arm away from his mother. This only enraged his mother's drunken self more.

"Get back here, f**, my cigarette isn't out," she slurred out. Billie cried and rushed to his room and locked the door. He couldn't stay here. But he deserved the punishment. He was forced to come out. He had to after accidentally letting his mom hear him talking about his crush to Mike. Billie had a thing for his other friend, Tré, but he doesn't think the feelings are returned. So he suppresses them. But all things that are pushed away could end up exploding inside him.

Billie looked at his arm. Another burn mark to join the rest. The darkened, bleeding mark, compared to the other slightly faded marks. They sat next to his scars from having to pull the glass from when his mom decided a beer bottle was a better weapon. He was too afraid to keep count of how many times his mother burned him or hit him with a glass bottle.

But, Billie does remember the first time super vividly. When he was in the 3rd grade and failed a math class. But it wasn't his fault. He couldn't pay attention, there was always something moving around that kept him distracted. Whether it was Mr. Pendulum-Man swinging on the wall or the tree being blown by the wind, something was more interesting than what the teacher was doing. When Billie came home with the F, his mom yelled at him and asked for him to show his arm. She pressed her cigarette against it, saying that was a warning.

"You better come...come on outta there, you'll have to at some...some point, there's no way out other than the front door, you little failure. You remind me of your father, of course, be...before he died," Billie's mom yelled through the door. Billie sat down on his bed, hoping his mom wasn't going to get the key to unlock the room. He started to cry harder, thinking about his father. He found it weird that when people showed their arms, they were clear. No marks. But he was told after his mom first burned him that it was normal to be burned and that he should always have a sweater. Never tell a soul about it.

Billie remembered how he asked Mike about his scars and how strangely Mike looked at him and said he had no scars. That was in 7th grade. That year, Billie learned about physical abuse, but he thought that his mom loved him too much to be actually abusing him.

Billie pulled on his hoodie and moved his dresser, revealing a little milk door, big enough for him to slip through and stroll around for a bit.

"Aye, look at my man, what's up Billie?!" Tré called out from across the street. Billie froze and pulled up his hood and walked faster. He couldn't let Tré see he was crying. Literally anyone but Tré would be better to have in this situation.

Billie heard footsteps behind him. Faster and lighter than his mother's, but nonetheless, he began to run away. He tripped over his own feet, and before he knew it, he was on the concrete, probably with a few cuts and reopened injuries.

"B! Are you okay? Let's get you home, okay?" Tré called out, reaching over to Billie, to help him up.

"NO! PLEASE STAY AWAY! DON'T MAKE ME GO!" Billie cried, curling up.

(i split this in 2 parts cause itd be hella long otherwise)