What a tragedy // Billie Joe Armstrong

[34] will you be mine?

Mike, Tre, Violet, Add and Billie all helped bringing my bags into the house.

Tre wouldn't shut up about how big it was. He was amazed by it, so he didn't really help much.

After all my bags were brought in and sitting at the end of the stairs. I said goodbye to them all and thanked them for helping me out with my mom. All of them expect Billie obviously.

Once they left, I looked over all the bags stood beside Billie.

"Which one first?" He asked me, observing all of them with his hands on his hips.

"This one," I firmly said as I picked up the specific bag. "Here come upstairs I wanna show you something I never got to show you yesterday," I turned to him holding my hand out for him.

Without any hesitation, he took my hand trusting me as I led him up the wide staircase.

I took him down the hallway and stopped at the right door, which hadn't been opened since she passed. Cause none of us wanted to go on.

There was a little piece of wood hung up on the door with her name written in calligraphy that my grandmother had made at her request.

"This is addisons old room she used when we came to visit. This house is so big we had separate rooms here," I explained, "mine's over there." I told him pointing to the door at the end of the hallway.

The door with all the posters on. It wasn't hard to tell it was mine.

I turned back to the door and looked at it. I was scared to open it. "It's not been opened since she passed, no one needed or wanted to go in there,"

"Not even you?"

"I've wanted to in the past, but I never thought I was strong enough. Not until now,"

"You sure you wanna go in there?" He asked me squeezing my hand a little.

I nodded. "Yeah,"

I turned back to the door before lightly setting the bag I was holding in one hand on the floor and touching the doorknob, ignoring all the dust that had transferred off of it and on to the palm of my hand.

I pushed the door open revealing the room. Before stepping inside.

Everything was untouched. The bed still unmade, the rubish still on the floor, her desk still had clutter on it, her clothes thrown on a chair.

It was most upsetting cause it looked like someone still lived in here. But the heart aching thing was they weren't.

The walls were a hot pink, covered in movie posters and Drawings she did at a young age she never took down. At her desk sat a light pink bean bag which still had the mould in it of someone who had sat there last. Her bedsheets carelessly thrown at the end of the bed. Her floor was laminated and covered with her clothes or little candy wrappers.

I felt my eyes prickle with tears. Before feeling Billie squeeze my hand, almost to just let me know he's there, I turned to him and he smiled halfly at me. I wanted to fake one back but his smile made my real one appear.

"It's okay," he whispered, "I'm here, remember?"

"It looks like she's still here doesn't it," my voice trembled. My tone was low and barely audible. "It looks like she's supposed to come back and clean it up. It doesn't at all remind you she's gone you think someone is still staying in this room. Look how messy it is, but she's not here,"

"I know it hurts, and they say times suppose to heal you... But it doesn't. But she would have been so incredibly proud of you Payton,"

I turned to him, and let go of the bag pulling him into a hug as I began to sob into him. He held me tight and gently stroked my hair calming me down. "It's okay," he cooed softly to me. "I've got you."