Lay Down Your Arms, Give Up The Fight

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A/N: ASHKGBAKSHDBGKASBDGKASHBGKBASDHGBAKH FITTING TITLE OH MY GOD

Nearly finished folks :'( B'aaaaaaw. I hope you stick aropund to read my other stuff too! Please xxx

Until then, enjoy! :D

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“Mom?” I called out, as I crutched my way into the house. “Billie? Hello?”

There was chinking of glass upon glass in the kitchen and a swear before a strange silence. I raised my eyebrow and traced the sourse of the sound. In the kitchen, my mom was sitting with a bottle of wine in one hand, and a glass in the other, pouring herself more wine. She looked up. “Well, well, well,” she slurred, lazily. “Look who it is.”

“Mom?” I asked her. “What happened...?”

“What happened? Pah! Men happened. Never get a man, Grace. Never ever ever – they’re only good for leaving you when you need them most,” mom replied, downing her glass in a single gulp. I raised an eyebrow.

“Did Billie walk out on you?”

“No... I kicked him out...” As if she suddenly remembered why, she looked up at me with such an unimaginable pity, it almost made me sick. “Oh Grace... if only I had known.... why didn’t you say anything, damn it?”

“Don’t try to blame this on me!” I gawped. “None of it’s true either!”

“Why are you in crutches?” Mom said, pointing with the hand she also used to hold her wine glass. I waved a crutch dismissively.

“Beside the point. Mom, stop drinking, it’s not good for you for fucks sake.”

“My daughter ain’t should be tellin me not what to do.” I’m still not sure what that sentence truely meant to this day in present. I furrowed my eyebrows and tried to make sense of it, but soon gave up.

“Mom, you’re not making sense. You need to sober up, I need to explain this to you. I need you to tell me something,” I said, calmly as possible. I realised that screaming my case got me no where. And I was not going to resort to that. I decided to call Tord inside, there was no point in keeping him waiting out there. After we got mom sober enough to make sense, we sat her on the sofa.

“None of it is true,” I said, as soon as I sat down. “Someone spread it.”

“Someone spread it... was it you?”

“Wh- no! No, no way!” I protested. I sighed a long sigh. “There’s plenty of people who might have done it, mom. But that doesn’t matter right now, we need to clear Billie’s name out there. It’s not fair that he’s being accused of all this.”

“But... but he’s gone,” mom said, sounded defeated and empty all of a sudden. “I... told him to leave...”

“I know,” I groaned in frustration, running a hand through my hair. “Look, we need to find out where he might have went... do you know?”

“I... I think he said something about an aiport...”

“Fuck,” I growled, pinching the bridge of my nose. This always had to happen, didn’t it? Nothing could ever just be a sure-fire path, it always had to be pick out the bits and try to piece them together. Even in reality. I shook my head slowly and looked up at her. “Do you know what airport...?”

“Probably the nearest one... so it was all just a... a lie? Just one big lie for the press?” she asked, in the greatest disbelief. I expected her to be shocked anyway, I didn’t get too impatient with her for wanting to know more about it.

Billie Joe Armstrong is my step-father... and I hate it [EDITING]Where stories live. Discover now