Billie Joe Decided to Shut the Door to His Past, Once and For All, chapter 16

Mike remembered that Joseph still was in his house when he walked over to his bedroom. He'd actually forgotten all about the kid for quite a while. But the boy was still there. He'd fallen asleep on Mike's bed and was snoring slightly. It made a passing smile appear on Mike's lips that quickly died away, taking yet another piece of him with it as it did. Swift and quiet he walked over to Joseph, lifted him up and carried him into his daughter's bedroom. Mike laid him down on Stella's bed and stood there watching him sleep for a while. He sometimes wished he had a son, especially when he looked at his friend's boys.

After standing there a while, lost in thoughts, he just a quietly turned around and left the peacefully sleeping child. Mike strode down the hallway and back into his own room where he dropped down on the bed. He didn't feel tired but had no desire to stay awake. Lying down on the bed, still fully dressed, and starting at the ceiling he came to think about sleep. Usually he would try to fall asleep even if he wasn't tired at all simply because, generally, there was no troubles and no pain whatsoever when he was sleeping. Sure he had nightmares but more often then not his sleep was completely dreamless. So being asleep meant being free from suffering. Just like Billie Joe had said.

Mike was beginning to think that his friend might have been right after all. Why not end it? Why not sleep forever? Free from all the pain. It was an appealing thought, it really was, but Mike was not quite there yet. He still had a few miles to walk before suicide would be more then just a thought, more then a consideration. But still, it wasn't far from an action. It wouldn't take much to make him end his life. Believing that no one longer cared about him would probably be enough. Even though it wasn't the one thing that definitely could bring him to take such a way out. No, what really was going to make death his only choice would be if the people he loved the most assured him that they would be better of without him.

Mike kept staring blankly into space until he finally fell asleep and shortly after he did pattering footstep, that fade into silence at the door leading to Mike's bedroom, could be heard.

With a creaking and then swishing sound the door swung open. In the doorway stood a little boy, silently watching the man on the bed. He had a concerned look upon his young face which only faded slightly when he noticed that his friend looked peaceful. With a tiny smile to curl his narrow lips Mike seemed ever so happy. Like no sorrow could ever touch him. Out of reach for all the pain of this world.

Joseph slowly swung his head from side to side, shaking it in a sad way knowing that his friend indeed was at peace. He then backed out of the room and when he left he had a feeling that Mike never was going to be truly happy again.

Joseph sighted heavily as he once more laid down on Stella's bed. He rolled onto his side, closed his eyes and fell asleep, freed from all his troubles. Just like Mike.

Mike had once said that happiness is a journey and not a destination. If that was true Mike's journey was about to end. Forever.

* * *

"Shut up! Go to hell! Why don't you just fuck off?! Just go to hell and leave me the fuck alone!" Billie Joe screamed silently at his reflection in the windshield.

The taxi driver turned his head somewhat as he looked at the man in the backseat with a concerned and slightly alarmed expression on his face.

"You ok, buddy?" he asked trying to make his voice sound rather easy but failed since his growing unease made it somewhat shrill.

Billie Joe didn't answer him so the driver decided to mind his own business but he wouldn't get off that easy as it would turn out.

"No, I'm not ofukingk! I'm fucking tired that things I thought I've buried a long time ago always comes back to hunt me. I hate that my past keeps screwing me up! I just want it all to be over, just want it all to be over," Billie Joe cried out in a desperate voice, his desperation mixing with burning hatred.

Fiery thoughts once again licked his darkened mind. They singed it once more and buried even deeper. He actually began to fear that they would leave burned patches that he never could get rid off. He was afraid that the guilt and hatred, which already had destroyed so much that had been good in his life, wouldn't go away.

You can scar your skin, you can scar your heart and you can scar your soul. So what says it isn't possible to scar your mind?

Billie Joe was pretty convinced that it was possible, and he was also rather convinced that it was most likely to happen to him.

"Whoa, settle down fellow! I'm not tryin' to be mean here, k?" the taxi driver said in an even shriller voice. "I was just wondering if everything was fine with ya."

"Of course you didn't mean to cause no harm," Billie Joe said in a calm, over-sweet voice. "And I'm fine thank you. I'm ok, no really I am."

Billie Joe gave the driver a big smile that had no genuineness to it whatsoever when the driver still looked very skeptical, even after he'd assured that nothing was wrong. He smiled back though. A halfhearted, trembling smile. He didn't want to upset a passenger. Especially not one who seemed to be out of his mind.

"You almost blew it," a cold voice hissed in the backseat.

The driver glanced at the man in the backseat with ever growing unease. If he didn't know that there was only one guy in the cab, except himself of course, he could have sworn that he'd heard someone else speak. The hissing voice had been so very different from the voice the driver had heard his passenger use that he actually began to doubt he was sane himself.

"But everything will be fine. It will be fine. No more pain. No more burning memories. Peace. Peace at least. Yes, peace." The same voice mumbled but in a different, softer, way.

The driver had another quick look at the guy sitting in the backseat. What he saw completely convinced him that nothing was wrong with his own mental health. He fixated his eyes on the road, trying to ignore what was going on behind him. Two trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as the cab drove into an inescapable, dark future.

Billie Joe smiled contently at the windshield, creasing it with his fingertips as he mumbled to himself. The look in his eyes was peaceful and almost worshipping. Everything was going to be fine. It would be ok. Jimmy had told him so.

* * *

Mike rolled over to his back and stared at the ceiling. The feeling that he didn't want to wake up was so strong that it almost made him sick to the stomach. He closed his eyes again and inside his head he fell into a black pond of obliviousness. Darkness surrounded his being and kept what was left of his emotions locked up in his fragile heart. He knew that it was only a matter of time before it was all gone but he wanted to keep the warmth of emotions for as long as possible. If that meant that he had to hold onto them with all his might he would do so, even if it resulted in a mask of complete apathy that would be showed to the world.

With a sigh that carried away some more of his leaking feelings he got up. Slowly he made his way towards the bathroom, walking as if lost in a foggy dream-world. His eyes were staring blankly ahead and everything about him seemed distant. He was merely a shadow of the man he once had been. Scared, broken and fading he walked down the hallway towards the bathroom. Towards a new day. Towards the end.

When Joseph poked out his head that was what he saw; a dimmed figure with eyes glowing with the fading light of a dying soul. He wiped away the tears that pooled in the corners of his eyes as he backed into the room again. He understood that there was nothing he could do for his friend. It was too late. Joseph was actually pretty sure that it had been too late long before he was even born. Mike had been heading in the same direction for years and years. Never leaving his desolated road. Always walking down the path of self-destruction.

Mike reached the bathroom and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He stood perfectly still for a minute or so, lost in a whirlwind of frosty thoughts. They went through his mind faster and faster and every single one of them stung like a cold wind. He tried to get rid of them as he headed for the shower, purposely avoiding looking at the mirror. When he turned the water on he made sure it was quite hot. It warmed up his body but he still felt cold and numb on the inside. The hot water could neither chase away the thoughts freezing with sorrow nor warm up his icy heart. After realizing that he decided to hurry up and take a quick shower because the warmth of the water just reminded him of the artic winter inside. When he was done the air was damp and the glass made surfaces was misted over. He grabbed a towel and without noticing it he ended up in front of the steam covered mirror.

"How could I get so completely lost?" Mike asked himself. "I was something once. I had something," he thought. "I had dreams and hopes. I had a future. What do I have now? I'm not who I wanted to be. Whoever I once wanted to be. I don't remember who that person is. Or, who he would have been. Who he would have turned out. What I am now, or what I ain't, is not what I intended to be.

Mike took a deep breath trying to settle down a bit but suddenly stopped. He leaned a little forward to get a closer look. "Who am I?" was scribbled down on the bathroom mirror.

"Good question," Mike whispered. "Too bad I haven't got an answer. Because I don't know. I'm lost. But then again, I did never found myself. I only found others expectations and their friendship. A found a soulmate-" Mike paused for a second. "Billie Joe. That's all I am. His best friend. Without him I'm nothing anymore. You once were more that that Mikey boy, but you gradually gave that up when everything around you fell apart every time you had patched things together. It was too easy to depend on someone else. Too easy to exist for someone else. Someone with goals and determination. Now he's gone, and he left me with nothing. I placed all I was in his hands. He probably dropped it somewhere. It's most likely gone. I'm most likely gone. Lost."

* * *

After knocking both once and twice on the door Tré started to kick it as hard as he possible could. Still there were no response but that didn't dampen his spirit. He was very worried though, which partly explained his manic behavior.

"Open up! C'mon! Open the goddamn door!" he yelled between the kicking sessions.

He was more or less planning on how to get inside, even if it involved knocking down the door or breaking a window. Desperate situations calls for desperate solutions were a philosophy Tré grew very fond of for a short amount of time. He was in fact thinking about how to barge through the door when it creaked open.

"Hello?" Tré said in a confused voice as he pushed the door wide open.

Stepping inside and looking around he continued to call out, but it seemed like nobody was there. Thinking somewhere in the back of head that the house was hunted he began to search for its owner. He walked around when suddenly he heard footsteps closely behind. Turning around quickly he almost tripped as he tried to catch a glimpse of the one following him around. Tré could swear that the footsteps had followed him ever since he stepped inside. He couldn't see anyone when he looked however, and that creped him out. At first he had told himself that he only was imagining things but after walking through the house for a little while he was convinced that he was being pursued. He was also positive that the footsteps belonged to a ghost. Not that he ever had noticed any tendency to the house being hunted, but then again, evil spirits could move in at any time. Tré tried to shake it off and keep looking and to his relief the footsteps ceased. A little lighter a heart he opened yet another door. With a loud scream he took a step backwards. Loosing his balance he helplessly tumbled to the floor. Tré stared wide-eyed at the ghost of a little boy standing in the doorway.

"Tré," the ghost whispered and Tré whimpered pathetically while crawling up into a ball.

"Don't hurt me, please," he begged holding up one hand showing his palm while letting the other cover his eyes.

To his annoyance the ghost started laughing in a very cheerful, yet mocking, way. Confused and somewhat irritated Tré got on his feet. It was only then that he realized that the ghost wasn't a ghost at all. It was a boy alright, but that boy was very much alive.

"What do you mean by following me around like that, scaring me shitless!" Tré asked furiously while walking up to the child.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just didn't wanna leave. I thought you were supposed to come here and get me," the kid apologized without sounding practically sorry.

"Gee, you're too much like your dad," Tré sighed with a headshake. "Try not to always be the center of attention. Everything doesn't revolve around you, Joseph, m'kay?

"Whatever," Joseph muttered and returned into the room, ignoring Tré's question about Mike's whereabouts.

"Do I look like my brothers keeper?" was the only answer he got from the kid. So therefore he decided to keep on searching. Mike had to be somewhere. Unless he had disappeared, like Billie Joe.

"He better not has run after BJ," Tré muttered while stomping down the hallway.

"I haven't," came a voice to the left.

Tré spun around to find Mike standing behind him. His friend's hair was dripping and he was only wearing a towel.

"Oh, so you were taking a shower," Tré stated lamely since he didn't know what to say. For whatever reason he simply couldn't get straight to the point.

"Yeah, Einstein. So what do you want," Mike said giving Tré an uninterested look.

Normally Tré would have either been offended by his friend's comment or joked about it but this time he didn't know how to react. Mike's monotone voice still confused him and made him feel awkward.

"You know that dream you told me about?" Tré asked, beating about the bush.

"No more bedtime stories, Tré," Mike sighed walking passed his friend who followed him.

"But seriously Mike, I think you should know what Kathy said about it," he insisted. "It's not very good news but maybe you could make some sense outa it, and outa the whole situation you are in. The situation we are in."

At that Mike turned around and looked long and hard at his friend. He took a few steps towards Tré causing him to having to bend his head to keep eye contact.

"Do you seriously believe that my dream can tell my anything about Billie Joe's behavior and his disappearance?" Mike questioned in a slightly tensed voice. Whether it was tensed because of excitement or because of anger Tré couldn't tell, but at least he had his friend's attention.

"Well, actually, I do," Tré confessed twisting his hands nervously. "So please listen to me. Because it's important and also. Also because I have something. Something to confess."

* * *

Tilting his head to the left Billie Joe gazed upon the house in front of him. For once, since he had left his home, he knew exactly where he was. Everything was as clear as crystal. Every little detail around him seemed to stand out while, at the same time, it all fitted perfectly into the picture which was carefully painted by the summer and the afternoon sun. Unusually enough he felt peaceful despite what he was about to do. There was no Jimmy in the back of his head scaring him. There was no fear of messing things up because of the past. No tears lurking just beneath the surface. No desperate search for a solution and no difficult decisions, because there was no option. There was only a huge relief that put an almost invincible smile on his lips.

He couldn't recall much of his journey but remembered leaving his house around 11. 00 in the night. Thereafter he had walked the desolated streets of Oakland. The next thing he could remember was sitting in a cab with a frightened driver on his way through San Francisco. After that there was a long void of which he remembered nothing. Then came glimpses of hitching a ride. Different people. Different cities. He could recall passing through Portland and Seattle. And then he looked upon a Vancouver drenched in the bright morning light. That had meant that he hadn't been far from his final destination. Unfortunately he had had to walk the last distance, which resulted in a later arrival than he had expected. He reached Vancouver around 9 am but when he finally stood outside her house it was afternoon.

Making American Idiot had been a way to shut the door to the past. It had been a closure in many ways. Billie Joe had dealt with a lot of painful memories and worked things out, and at the same time he had been figuring out and stating his political views. The songs on it had been a way to process the memories which still had hurt. They were his way of putting things behind him. Everything on that album where over and done with and it didn't bother him anymore. Everything except one thing. One song. Whatsername. It was still in his head. She was still in his head. When he closed his eyes he could see her face just as clearly as if no time at all had passed. In the lyric he had written; 'forgetting you but not the time' but that had proved to be a lie. He had forgotten a lot about her, almost everything, but there were so many things that still lingered. Things which all were linked to old emotions, and every one of those emotions belonged to memories filled to the brim with suffering. Memories of events that had shaped him and formed him into the person he had been most of his life. A person who made bad decisions based those hurtful times. That kind of behavior would soon come to an end. He would soon be able to be a whole different person. A better person. All that had to do was to get rid of the last link to his old life so he could be free from the pain once and for all.

Billie Joe started to walk towards the relatively new two floor house, which was bathing in the golden beams that came floating from the melting sun, while whistling some random happy tune. Although he felt very cheerful he was starting to get nervous. Familiar butterflies had awoken from their slumber and flapped around restlessly in his stomach. He bit his lip and fingered on his wedding ring, and every once in a while his hand found its way to the gun he still carried. He assured himself that he wasn't insane. That what he was doing wasn't insane. That it was Jimmy who was a madman. A murderer. Billie Joe was sure that he never could kill anyone, but he was convinced that Jimmy was fully capable of taking a life. It wasn't as much about taking a life as removing a memory though. Billie Joe had come to think of it as getting rid of a bound tied to his troubled past. That way of thinking made it easier to cope. He knew that if he really started to think things through it would all seem crazy and desperate. But desperate situations calls for desperate solutions. He had tried everything else already. To eliminate Whatsername was his last resort and once it was done everything would be fine. Everything would be just fine.

* * *

She walked around on the first floor picking up a few things which she put away on their right places. It wasn't exactly cleaning up; it was more like an effort to stay occupied. It didn't work for long however. Soon the tears streamed through her mind to roll down her cheeks once more. With her bottom lip trembling and her hands shaking she sat down in her favorite old armchair. The tears washed away the joy and overflowed her head with fragments of her history. The memories drenched her soul in misery but at the same time they brought faint glimpses of happiness. They reminded her of a time when she was happy. A time when she had been loved. When she had loved someone. A time that now was forever lost. Her sobs grew stronger until everyone of them grabbed her body and shook it roughly. The depression fell upon her being like a starless night. How she wished that she could turn back time. If she hadn't had that stupid fight with her housebound he might still be alive. He wouldn't have jumped into the car driving off in the middle of the night. He would never been involved in a car accident. He would still be with her. They were supposed to be together for all eternity. That dream had gone to pieces which each one had turned into sharp splinters of dreadful nightmares. They cut through her everyday life leaving wound that never healed. It made her few, superficial friends somewhat worried that she might commit suicide. She had in fact considered it but never actually done anything.

After what to her seemed like an eternity she got up and walked over to her bedroom. On the way there she walked passed a picture of her housebound which was standing on the mantelpiece. She couldn't bear looking at it so she had to turn it upside down. After she had done that her eye fell on the yard outside the large window. For a brief moment she was sure that she could see a shadowy figure moving towards the house but just as sudden it was gone, like it never had been there in the first place. Shaking her head and wiping the last tears away she went into her bedroom to get some sleep. She was so tried since she had been up the whole night, yet again, crying her eyes out over the loss of her housebound. It had only been a little over six months since he had passed away and she was still mourning. It felt like she never would be happy again.

With an unhappy sigh the woman looked at the pale blue summer sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, whishing she could shine like the sun with beams of delight.

"Why can't it rain?" she muttered glaring at the heavens before turning away. "Just let it rain."

If she had lowered her gaze just a tad she would most likely have noticed the man standing outside the window.

Billie Joe looked at the woman through the glass a few seconds before he finally set to work. The last step in his plan was about to begin.