A Note Don't Come Easy, chapter 29
It had been 5 hours since I had found Billie Joe with Rachael and I had spent most of the early morning wandering around; helpless to myself and wanting a way out. With my arm still stinging and no life left inside of me, I continued to wander around and think of a way in how to make everything go away. My stomach growled madly, I hadn't eaten since yesterday. I felt weak and numb, I couldn't even engage myself properly.
Ignoring the argument in my head that I had no money, I stepped into a kebab take out and ordered the cheapest thing going. As I stood in the tiled waiting area, I quickly rolled up my sleeve and took another look at my new addition. 'Billie Joe' still lay as fresh as anything on my upper arm, standing out a mile against my pale skin. I put back down my sleeve, keeping the image inside of my mind - Which by now was slowly shutting down. I sighed, knowing that I was forever trapped and there was only one way in which to let myself free.
As I watched the owner of the take out fix up my order, a glimmer of silver flickered before me, alerting me. A knife. If only I had a knife. I edged myself slowly towards the counter, staring at the tool clasped in his hand. I seemed transfixed upon it.
"Here you go," he mumbled to me, passing me over the container and putting the knife down on top of the counter top.
His voice snapped me from my fix upon the knife, which was now resting in front of me.
I quickly grabbed hold of my prized food, not daring to look at him because in a close second I was about to run.
"That's $3." He grumbled.
"Erm... yeah... "
I pretended to fumble around in my pocket for some money as he turned for a moment to tend to the other pieces of food frying behind him on the hot grill. I suddenly made a break for it out the door, but not after I had stretched forward and snatched the knife from off of the counter top. I stuffed it in my pocket and ran out the door, across the street and out of sight before I had chance to think about what I had just done.
I ran as far away as I could still clutching the kebab, back the way I had came this morning. The knife lay rested in the pocket to my hoody, swinging dangerously near my skin as I ran. My heart beat so fast; I thought I was going to throw up again. And now all I had to do was take the knife to myself and slowly take away the pain. Because loving Billie Joe right now was too painful for me to take. And that was the thing. I could never stop loving him, no matter how hard I tried or no matter what he did. I had always loved him right from the start and I would never stop.
It was in my blood for me to love Billie Joe Armstrong.
* * * * * * * *
After disposing of my 'free' kebab, I awkwardly sneaked back towards the hotel, draping my hood over my head so no one could see my face. No one being Billie Joe, Tre, Mike, Jimmy or Rachael. I couldn't stand to face them. I had it all worked out now so I didn't want anyone to mess it up. I had to do this. This was the only path left available to me.
What else could I do? Where else could I go? Who could I go to now?
Nothing, nowhere and no one. Those were the answers.
Walking into the parking lot of the hotel I grew tense. What if one of them was out there? Then what would I do? I gulped hard as I carried on walking, hoping that I would go un-recognised. I put my hand away in my pocket, only to be met by a sharp blade that I had totally forgotten about. I drew my hand out to see a small cut across my palm, stinging and seeping through red. I put it to my mouth and sucked it, draining away the blood and trying to make it stop as I headed up towards the giant concrete steps that lead into the hotel.
I hesitantly looked around, eyeing everyone carefully and making sure that Billie Joe, Tre or Mike weren't around to see me. In a panic as I met other people's eyes I brisked into the hotel, taking in a deep breath as I pushed through the glass doors. I couldn't look another person's face. It was like they all knew what I was about to do and it made me feel guilty. Then I strode through the lobby and headed towards the staircase that was situated on the other side of hotel so I wouldn't bump into anyone. Anxiety started to drive through me again at the thought of being caught. What would I say if I did bump into one of them? I didn't even want to think about it. As soon as I entered the staircase and the door was closed behind me, I let out into a run and bounded up the stairs, just wanting to be locked away, and never wanting to see the sun again.
* * * * * * * *
I looked around my room, wanting to cry out loud. This was the first time I had been in a place for more than 5 minutes since I had found them together.
They had been together in Billie's room just a few floors below me. I wonder whether she was still there. If she were I would rip her hair out, smash her to pieces and kill her with my own bare hands. And I'll tell you something - I would be god dam proud of myself for once. But I couldn't bear to even look at Billie Joe right now. If I did, I would either kill him too or break down into hysterics again. It would probably be the second option. I couldn't even think about killing Billie Joe. I would never be able to forgive myself if I did.
I took out the knife from my pocket and placed it on top of the desk, sitting on my bed before it and staring at it. The tool that would end my life. I always thought about what 'category' I would fall under when it came to my death - suicide, murder, freak accident, illness, old age, terrorist attack. But now I knew, because I had chosen. And I always wondered at how old I would be. I guess I had decided upon that too.
I slowly looked around my room, my tired stinging eyes that were still watering fell upon my Green Day belongings, which was another blow to the head. My American Idiot T-shirt was sprawled out on the bed, magazines with them on the front also lay across the floor by the desk or on my bedside cabinet. I looked at my suitcase and saw my posters rolled up and attached to the side, not to mention my stack of CD's in the corner, and then my guitar that Billie Joe had bought me. I could not escape them whatever I did.
Everywhere I looked there was Billie Joe. He was always going to be there no matter how hard I tried or where I looked inside my room. He was staring down at me because I was beneath him.
I wanted to forget the pain and suffering and everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Maybe it was possible to start all over again. But I didn't have the strength or courage to do it. I may still be breathing but I was dead as anything inside. I was a nothing. I meant nothing to anyone anymore.
As I felt my eyes start to break away once again, I took back my hurt and replaced it with anger. In a sudden outburst of rage, I stood up leaning forward as I yelled out in fury and flung my arm across the desk, knocking over all of my Green Day CD's, books and pictures to the floor. They meant nothing to me anymore. They were just a constant reminder of the mess I was in. I looked down at them scattered across the floor, some of the CD cases now cracked. My heart pounded against my chest as I looked down on the floor at what I had just done. But I wasn't finished yet.
With love comes pain. With pain comes suffering. With suffering comes anger.
I yelled out again and like a clawed wild animal, grabbed hold of my Green Day posters and ripped them up. Shredding them up in my own bare hands, I threw in pieces about the room - showering everything with pictures of the people I loved the most. I kicked the torn parts about that had landed on the floor, creasing them up and stomping on them. Thrashing them about fiercely, I destroyed everything else in my path through out the room. Grunting and sobbing in my outburst, I threw things on the floor, as well as ripping up my belongs and the things that meant so much to me. At one point I chucked the lamp on the floor along with the telephone, casting a dark shadow over me as the light streamed over the upturned room and floor. I almost smashed the tube in too but I hardly had the strength to lift it up let alone throw it over the balcony. Instead I moved onto my suitcase, opening it up and tipping it upside down - kicking about all of my belongings and clothes.
I had finally lost it.
I suddenly stopped when my eyes caught the sight of Billie Joe's polka dot tie scrumpled in a heap on the floor. I bent down to pick it up, remembering the night Billie Joe had made me feel so special, so wanted and that night I had loved him so much. The night where he had crawled on top of me and taken off his tie and had proceeded to undo his trousers. Then he had discovered that I wasn't going to take part in the final and had left me suddenly to instead chase after Louisa who had beaten me to a pulp.
Feeling sad and dark, I put the tie around my neck and tied it up, wanting to wear it. It was the only thing I seemed to have left of Billie that was good.
My eyes slowly wandered around my room. The place was destroyed. Everything in my room was either trashed on the floor or sprawled out across the bed. Staring still at what I had just done and once again not knowing what to do, I let out a sob and crumpled in a heap on the floor amongst everything.
"When I was younger I thought that the world circled around me/But in time I realised I was wrong/My immortal thoughts turned into just dreams of a dead future/It was a tragic case of my reality."
I curled myself up into a ball and tucked my knees up, wrapping my arms around them tightly. I leaned on my side, cowering when I came face to face with a picture of Billie's face, torn from a poster that I had once cherished so much. I scowled at it as if it were Billie Joe himself, curling my lip and feeling hatred. Something a little further away from the poster stood out against the light, catching my eye. I stared at the knife I had stolen from the kebab shop that had obviously been thrown on the floor with the rest of my belongings in my outrage. Without thinking about whether it was right anymore, I reached across the floor and picked up the knife, still staring at Billie's face. This is it I thought. This is where I ended it all; here in this room, lying amongst all my belongings, Jimmy being the last person ever spoke to and facing Billie - the only feeling of me having left towards him being hatred. In my bitterness and breathing in deeply, I closed my eyes one last time and thought about all the good times Billie Joe and I once had.
Like when we had first met, first kissed, the first real feeling I had towards him, the first time I heard him say 'I love you.' The first time we had shared a bed, every time we had let the other invade our bodies.
All that remained were those memories as well as the new tattoo placed upon my arm. I had nothing else to live for. I opened my eyes, snarling again at the face of Billie for what he did to me and for all the hurt and pain he had caused. With a single swipe and without looking I cut my wrist, blood spurting everywhere and the pain being more excruciating than I had imagined. I glanced down at my arm that was now seeping rich red blood, stinging like crazy. I dropped the knife suddenly which clattered to the floor, clutching my hand in the other in agony. I sat up as I clenched my teeth tightly shut, trying to bear through the pain. But one thing was for sure - it had taken my mind away from the thought of Billie Joe and all the emotional hurt I was feeling.
I clutched on it tightly, watching the pain slowly seep away from me through my blood.
"Shit... " I groaned, powerless to make it stop. "Aw shit... fuck... "
I started rocking backwards and forwards amongst everything that was crashed out on the floor. I watched my own blood pour down my arm and drip onto the carpet like it was a movie or something. I was fascinated, possibly fixated with the idea of killing myself. I couldn't turn back now. It was too late to. I had turned insane, something I had vowed never to do. I reached for the knife again by my side and pressed it against my skin, looking at my reflection on the blade before making another opening for blood that hadn't already escaped to fall out. I let out another gasp, but I couldn't sit around anymore and feel my life drain away or watch it even. I continued to slash at my wrist violently, wanting it to all end now, moving onto the other arm too. I clenched my teeth and snarled madly as I watched everything fall apart around me. My life, my feelings, my dreams and my body. I wanted to die. I couldn't live any more feeling like the way I was. I had nothing else and that was the truth. I wasn't being melodramatic.
I turned to look at the face of Billie, a single tear rolling down my cheek as I still clutched onto my wrists in agony. "Why?"
I screamed at the poster, my eyes filling up again and falling down tears. "Why Billie? Why... ?"
I held on tightly to the knife in my hand like it was a life preserver, as I let out a loud sob, staring endlessly at the picture of Billie.
"Why Billie? WHY? What did I do wrong... ?"
I didn't know what I was doing anymore, or who I even was. I bent down on my knees and curled my head under my hands as I sat there, screwed up in a ball as the blood seeped through and through. Rich red blood pouring everywhere, all down my arms, my hands, my face, my hoody, my jeans, the carpet. I felt sorry for the person who had to find me.
There was the sounding of running footsteps in the distance, when suddenly someone knocked loudly on the door. My eyes widened as I shot my head out from under my curled up dieing position and stared at the door in shock horror. My heart pounded even more against me, doubling the pace and pressure. I grew paralysed.
There was another frantic knock on the door, as I sat staring at it, not knowing what the hell to do.
"Stef," a voice called desperately. "Stef are you in there?"
I almost died as Billie Joe's voice rang out like a siren to my ears. I chocked back as I started to shake. He couldn't see me like this. I couldn't see him. Not anymore. I was going. He had had his chance.
"Stef, if you're in there... please... just please... " he sobbed uncontrollably, hearing something thud against the door which I guess was his head. "Please... I'm begging you... just... please - open... open the door... "
I gritted my teeth, seriously not knowing what to do and the voice of Billie Joe ripping me up inside. I sat perfectly still amongst everything, gulping hard as I was almost having a heart attack. The pain from my wrists had gone for a moment as I listened to him cry on the other side of my door. But I could slowly feel myself slipping away, and I was starting to feel weak. I still clung onto the knife in my shaking hand still, blood dripping down it slowly.
"Stef... please... " and then he stopped crying out, and instead started to sob desperately. "Where are you Stef? Where are you... "
I so wanted to cry out and let him help me, take care of me, but I had been through that stage so many times. I couldn't let him see me like this. But then again, I couldn't stop my feelings either. I never asked to end up like this, but I still loved him deeply and I knew deep down that he was the one for me. I slowly stood up, staggering, and swallowing hard headed towards the door, wanting to hear more. I wanted to hear what he had to say before I finally went. I just wanted to be in his arms right now. Was that too much to ask for? I stood in the hallway, listening to him.
"I'm so sorry... " he cried. "I never meant to... leave... I mean... with Rachael and all... "
I changed my mind. My rage built up again at the sound of her name and I snarled once again, backing off. I held up the knife one last time and slit my wrist, but the sudden pain gripped me so much that I dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor loudly as I let out a cry in agony, suddenly gripping my hand and staring at it horrifically as more blood splurt through.
"Stef... ?!" Billie Joe asked, suddenly stopping in his crying and listening through the door.
I clamped my hand tightly over my mouth to prevent any more noise escaping, smearing blood across the side of my face as I bit my tongue in complete agony, my eyes starting to water.
"Stef?" He called out again. "Stef! Are you in there? Stef!"
I could hear him to start rattling against the door madly, frantically twisting the door handle, crying out. I watched as the door shook from the vibrations of him trying to force it open.
"Stef!"
In a panic I ran into the bathroom that was just literally behind me, still clamping my hand over my mouth and nabbing some toilet roll, quickly placing it over my open wounds, only to be soaked up with the thickness of the blood.
"STEF!" He screamed out like a mad man, his voice shrilling and ripping me apart inside.
I hated doing this to him but it was better this way. It seemed to be anyway.
"Excuse me," I heard a voice call from outside after a door opening, stopping Billie Joe mid screaming and catching his attention. "Can you please keep the noise down! I don't know what on earth is a matter with you but I'm trying to work in here! I'm sure the rest of the hotel don't - "
"Sir you gotta let me into your room!" Billie Joe pleaded with the man as I listened from inside the bathroom, still trying to stop the flow of blood.
"What? Excuse me, I don't think... "
Billie Joe cut him short again. "Sir please! You've got to let me! There's a girl in there and I - "
"I don't think you quite understand young man - "
"NO! YOU don't understand!" Billie Joe screamed.
I heard a sudden thud and a groan from the other person; I couldn't work out what was going on. Everything was happening so fast and it was turning out so wrong.
"Sir please, don't hurt me, I - "
"NOW LISTEN TO ME!" I heard Billie Joe cry. "Someone's life is at risk here! If you don't let me through then I'll have to force myself through! Do you get it?!"
There wasn't an answer. I suddenly heard a door close and Billie Joe's voice disappear. What the hell was he doing? Shit I was so scared and confused right now. I couldn't let him know I was here or find me. The blood soaked tissue stuck to my skin as the blood still failed to stop. My eyes darted about the bathroom, only seeing red splattered everywhere. I heard another cry come from inside the room next door to me.
"Sir, what are you doing? Are you insane?! No don't!"
I heard another loud clatter and a noise of clambering across metal as I peeked my head around the corner and into my room to see a hand clasp hold of the barrier on the balcony. I had stupidly left the doors open to the balcony from throwing my stuff about earlier. My pupils seemed to shrink and disintegrate into nothing as I recognised the familiar scribbling of 'Punx' on the hand that was tightly holding onto the balcony barrier.
No... No... Please... . Not Billie Joe... He couldn't find me... Not like this... Not now... Why? Just... why?!
My chest rose up in down in immense pressure as I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. I either HAD to stop the bleeding, or finish the job now. Before he found out. There was no way the bleeding was going to stop; I only had one option left. I couldn't let him ruin this for me either. I searched with my eyes frantically across the floor to find the knife, only to see it by the bed, near the balcony. As I looked up outside to see Billie Joe now heaving himself on to my balcony from the one in the room next to me, I knew I had to act fast. I ran forward leaning down and sweeping up the knife, looking up to see Billie Joe hanging on for dear life as he clung on tightly to the bars, his knuckles white.
His eyes met mine for the first time since I had found him with Rachael. They were frantic and showed signs of horror, and terror pumping through his whole body. His eyes met the knife in my hand. My hoody sleeves had fallen down as I had run from the bathroom covering up my slashes, which in a way was a good thing. I swallowed my heart, as I stood transfixed upon him, not knowing what to say or do as he just stared at the blood on the knife, clinging onto the balcony bar dangerously still.
"Stef!" He screamed, staring at the knife with those piercing green eyes of his. "Stef! Nooo!"
I took one final look at him before cracking up facially, letting a tear form and roll down my cheek before rolling up a sleeve revelling my cuts to him. He froze half balancing on the balcony, not believing what he was witnessing. Striking the knife in the air and letting him watch, I took another blow to my wrist.
"Nooooooo!" He screamed, reaching out with his hand trying to hold onto me.
But it was obvious I was nowhere near him. The knife cut down into my artery, making me collapse from lack of strength and blood pumping around me. The knife feel somewhere near me, but my vision was suddenly blurred. All I could hear was Billie Joe's own shrilling cries.
"Noooooooooo! Stef!" He screamed at the top of his lungs like I had never heard him scream before.
I saw him from the corner of my eye jump from off of the bars and onto the actual balcony, running into my room and by my side.
"Stef! Noooo! Stef!" He sobbed, breaking up at the sight of me dieing on the floor. "Oh shit... Stef... what the fuck have I done?"
He knelt down beside me, looking over me and taking my wrists in his. Horrified, he suddenly opened his palms to see what the sticky mess was that was dampening his skin. I don't think he realised how far I had taken things. He suddenly dropped my wrists, which fell to my side as I stared numb up at him, empty and cold inside. He stared at his palms that were now stained with my own blood, tears forming in his very own eyes and becoming hysterical.
"Oh shit... " he cried to himself before scrambling to his feet to use the phone when he suddenly realised that it wasn't on the desk anymore. Then realising that there was NOTHING on the desk or anywhere else. And that everything was on the floor. He spotted the phone on the floor a little distance away from my feet, lunging onto it and pounding in a few numbers, pressing the receiver to his ear hard.
"Tre!" He screamed. "Tre! Get your asses up here now! Now I said! No fucking questions! Tre, JUST DO IT!"
And before he could say anything else, his eyes feel upon the scrumpled picture of him that I had been staring at just a few minutes ago when I had first taken the blade to my skin.
"Holy shit... " he whispered ghostly, seeing the picture of him ripped up and letting the phone slip out of his hand and crash to the floor.
He crawled frantically over to me, getting down on his knees and pulling me across his lap, lifeless as anything. He cupped the bottom of my face in his bloodied hands, looking into my glazed eyes.
"Stef, please... " he sobbed, his eyes desperate and frantic. "Don't die... please... I never - meant to... I don't... please hold on... why... why was I... so - stupid... Stef... "
His tears choked him back, making it hard for him to speak. He clasped hold around my chest and heaved me up a little, resting my head against the end of the bed and the end part of the duvet that was draped over. He wrapped his left arm around my back and pressed me against him close, holding onto me tight like a stuffed animal. He started rocking backwards and forwards slightly, staring at me in horror as a single tear rolled down his ghostly white cheek, and not knowing what was going to happen or what he should do.
I was slipping away in his arms, and he knew it.
Ignoring the argument in my head that I had no money, I stepped into a kebab take out and ordered the cheapest thing going. As I stood in the tiled waiting area, I quickly rolled up my sleeve and took another look at my new addition. 'Billie Joe' still lay as fresh as anything on my upper arm, standing out a mile against my pale skin. I put back down my sleeve, keeping the image inside of my mind - Which by now was slowly shutting down. I sighed, knowing that I was forever trapped and there was only one way in which to let myself free.
As I watched the owner of the take out fix up my order, a glimmer of silver flickered before me, alerting me. A knife. If only I had a knife. I edged myself slowly towards the counter, staring at the tool clasped in his hand. I seemed transfixed upon it.
"Here you go," he mumbled to me, passing me over the container and putting the knife down on top of the counter top.
His voice snapped me from my fix upon the knife, which was now resting in front of me.
I quickly grabbed hold of my prized food, not daring to look at him because in a close second I was about to run.
"That's $3." He grumbled.
"Erm... yeah... "
I pretended to fumble around in my pocket for some money as he turned for a moment to tend to the other pieces of food frying behind him on the hot grill. I suddenly made a break for it out the door, but not after I had stretched forward and snatched the knife from off of the counter top. I stuffed it in my pocket and ran out the door, across the street and out of sight before I had chance to think about what I had just done.
I ran as far away as I could still clutching the kebab, back the way I had came this morning. The knife lay rested in the pocket to my hoody, swinging dangerously near my skin as I ran. My heart beat so fast; I thought I was going to throw up again. And now all I had to do was take the knife to myself and slowly take away the pain. Because loving Billie Joe right now was too painful for me to take. And that was the thing. I could never stop loving him, no matter how hard I tried or no matter what he did. I had always loved him right from the start and I would never stop.
It was in my blood for me to love Billie Joe Armstrong.
* * * * * * * *
After disposing of my 'free' kebab, I awkwardly sneaked back towards the hotel, draping my hood over my head so no one could see my face. No one being Billie Joe, Tre, Mike, Jimmy or Rachael. I couldn't stand to face them. I had it all worked out now so I didn't want anyone to mess it up. I had to do this. This was the only path left available to me.
What else could I do? Where else could I go? Who could I go to now?
Nothing, nowhere and no one. Those were the answers.
Walking into the parking lot of the hotel I grew tense. What if one of them was out there? Then what would I do? I gulped hard as I carried on walking, hoping that I would go un-recognised. I put my hand away in my pocket, only to be met by a sharp blade that I had totally forgotten about. I drew my hand out to see a small cut across my palm, stinging and seeping through red. I put it to my mouth and sucked it, draining away the blood and trying to make it stop as I headed up towards the giant concrete steps that lead into the hotel.
I hesitantly looked around, eyeing everyone carefully and making sure that Billie Joe, Tre or Mike weren't around to see me. In a panic as I met other people's eyes I brisked into the hotel, taking in a deep breath as I pushed through the glass doors. I couldn't look another person's face. It was like they all knew what I was about to do and it made me feel guilty. Then I strode through the lobby and headed towards the staircase that was situated on the other side of hotel so I wouldn't bump into anyone. Anxiety started to drive through me again at the thought of being caught. What would I say if I did bump into one of them? I didn't even want to think about it. As soon as I entered the staircase and the door was closed behind me, I let out into a run and bounded up the stairs, just wanting to be locked away, and never wanting to see the sun again.
* * * * * * * *
I looked around my room, wanting to cry out loud. This was the first time I had been in a place for more than 5 minutes since I had found them together.
They had been together in Billie's room just a few floors below me. I wonder whether she was still there. If she were I would rip her hair out, smash her to pieces and kill her with my own bare hands. And I'll tell you something - I would be god dam proud of myself for once. But I couldn't bear to even look at Billie Joe right now. If I did, I would either kill him too or break down into hysterics again. It would probably be the second option. I couldn't even think about killing Billie Joe. I would never be able to forgive myself if I did.
I took out the knife from my pocket and placed it on top of the desk, sitting on my bed before it and staring at it. The tool that would end my life. I always thought about what 'category' I would fall under when it came to my death - suicide, murder, freak accident, illness, old age, terrorist attack. But now I knew, because I had chosen. And I always wondered at how old I would be. I guess I had decided upon that too.
I slowly looked around my room, my tired stinging eyes that were still watering fell upon my Green Day belongings, which was another blow to the head. My American Idiot T-shirt was sprawled out on the bed, magazines with them on the front also lay across the floor by the desk or on my bedside cabinet. I looked at my suitcase and saw my posters rolled up and attached to the side, not to mention my stack of CD's in the corner, and then my guitar that Billie Joe had bought me. I could not escape them whatever I did.
Everywhere I looked there was Billie Joe. He was always going to be there no matter how hard I tried or where I looked inside my room. He was staring down at me because I was beneath him.
I wanted to forget the pain and suffering and everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Maybe it was possible to start all over again. But I didn't have the strength or courage to do it. I may still be breathing but I was dead as anything inside. I was a nothing. I meant nothing to anyone anymore.
As I felt my eyes start to break away once again, I took back my hurt and replaced it with anger. In a sudden outburst of rage, I stood up leaning forward as I yelled out in fury and flung my arm across the desk, knocking over all of my Green Day CD's, books and pictures to the floor. They meant nothing to me anymore. They were just a constant reminder of the mess I was in. I looked down at them scattered across the floor, some of the CD cases now cracked. My heart pounded against my chest as I looked down on the floor at what I had just done. But I wasn't finished yet.
With love comes pain. With pain comes suffering. With suffering comes anger.
I yelled out again and like a clawed wild animal, grabbed hold of my Green Day posters and ripped them up. Shredding them up in my own bare hands, I threw in pieces about the room - showering everything with pictures of the people I loved the most. I kicked the torn parts about that had landed on the floor, creasing them up and stomping on them. Thrashing them about fiercely, I destroyed everything else in my path through out the room. Grunting and sobbing in my outburst, I threw things on the floor, as well as ripping up my belongs and the things that meant so much to me. At one point I chucked the lamp on the floor along with the telephone, casting a dark shadow over me as the light streamed over the upturned room and floor. I almost smashed the tube in too but I hardly had the strength to lift it up let alone throw it over the balcony. Instead I moved onto my suitcase, opening it up and tipping it upside down - kicking about all of my belongings and clothes.
I had finally lost it.
I suddenly stopped when my eyes caught the sight of Billie Joe's polka dot tie scrumpled in a heap on the floor. I bent down to pick it up, remembering the night Billie Joe had made me feel so special, so wanted and that night I had loved him so much. The night where he had crawled on top of me and taken off his tie and had proceeded to undo his trousers. Then he had discovered that I wasn't going to take part in the final and had left me suddenly to instead chase after Louisa who had beaten me to a pulp.
Feeling sad and dark, I put the tie around my neck and tied it up, wanting to wear it. It was the only thing I seemed to have left of Billie that was good.
My eyes slowly wandered around my room. The place was destroyed. Everything in my room was either trashed on the floor or sprawled out across the bed. Staring still at what I had just done and once again not knowing what to do, I let out a sob and crumpled in a heap on the floor amongst everything.
"When I was younger I thought that the world circled around me/But in time I realised I was wrong/My immortal thoughts turned into just dreams of a dead future/It was a tragic case of my reality."
I curled myself up into a ball and tucked my knees up, wrapping my arms around them tightly. I leaned on my side, cowering when I came face to face with a picture of Billie's face, torn from a poster that I had once cherished so much. I scowled at it as if it were Billie Joe himself, curling my lip and feeling hatred. Something a little further away from the poster stood out against the light, catching my eye. I stared at the knife I had stolen from the kebab shop that had obviously been thrown on the floor with the rest of my belongings in my outrage. Without thinking about whether it was right anymore, I reached across the floor and picked up the knife, still staring at Billie's face. This is it I thought. This is where I ended it all; here in this room, lying amongst all my belongings, Jimmy being the last person ever spoke to and facing Billie - the only feeling of me having left towards him being hatred. In my bitterness and breathing in deeply, I closed my eyes one last time and thought about all the good times Billie Joe and I once had.
Like when we had first met, first kissed, the first real feeling I had towards him, the first time I heard him say 'I love you.' The first time we had shared a bed, every time we had let the other invade our bodies.
All that remained were those memories as well as the new tattoo placed upon my arm. I had nothing else to live for. I opened my eyes, snarling again at the face of Billie for what he did to me and for all the hurt and pain he had caused. With a single swipe and without looking I cut my wrist, blood spurting everywhere and the pain being more excruciating than I had imagined. I glanced down at my arm that was now seeping rich red blood, stinging like crazy. I dropped the knife suddenly which clattered to the floor, clutching my hand in the other in agony. I sat up as I clenched my teeth tightly shut, trying to bear through the pain. But one thing was for sure - it had taken my mind away from the thought of Billie Joe and all the emotional hurt I was feeling.
I clutched on it tightly, watching the pain slowly seep away from me through my blood.
"Shit... " I groaned, powerless to make it stop. "Aw shit... fuck... "
I started rocking backwards and forwards amongst everything that was crashed out on the floor. I watched my own blood pour down my arm and drip onto the carpet like it was a movie or something. I was fascinated, possibly fixated with the idea of killing myself. I couldn't turn back now. It was too late to. I had turned insane, something I had vowed never to do. I reached for the knife again by my side and pressed it against my skin, looking at my reflection on the blade before making another opening for blood that hadn't already escaped to fall out. I let out another gasp, but I couldn't sit around anymore and feel my life drain away or watch it even. I continued to slash at my wrist violently, wanting it to all end now, moving onto the other arm too. I clenched my teeth and snarled madly as I watched everything fall apart around me. My life, my feelings, my dreams and my body. I wanted to die. I couldn't live any more feeling like the way I was. I had nothing else and that was the truth. I wasn't being melodramatic.
I turned to look at the face of Billie, a single tear rolling down my cheek as I still clutched onto my wrists in agony. "Why?"
I screamed at the poster, my eyes filling up again and falling down tears. "Why Billie? Why... ?"
I held on tightly to the knife in my hand like it was a life preserver, as I let out a loud sob, staring endlessly at the picture of Billie.
"Why Billie? WHY? What did I do wrong... ?"
I didn't know what I was doing anymore, or who I even was. I bent down on my knees and curled my head under my hands as I sat there, screwed up in a ball as the blood seeped through and through. Rich red blood pouring everywhere, all down my arms, my hands, my face, my hoody, my jeans, the carpet. I felt sorry for the person who had to find me.
There was the sounding of running footsteps in the distance, when suddenly someone knocked loudly on the door. My eyes widened as I shot my head out from under my curled up dieing position and stared at the door in shock horror. My heart pounded even more against me, doubling the pace and pressure. I grew paralysed.
There was another frantic knock on the door, as I sat staring at it, not knowing what the hell to do.
"Stef," a voice called desperately. "Stef are you in there?"
I almost died as Billie Joe's voice rang out like a siren to my ears. I chocked back as I started to shake. He couldn't see me like this. I couldn't see him. Not anymore. I was going. He had had his chance.
"Stef, if you're in there... please... just please... " he sobbed uncontrollably, hearing something thud against the door which I guess was his head. "Please... I'm begging you... just... please - open... open the door... "
I gritted my teeth, seriously not knowing what to do and the voice of Billie Joe ripping me up inside. I sat perfectly still amongst everything, gulping hard as I was almost having a heart attack. The pain from my wrists had gone for a moment as I listened to him cry on the other side of my door. But I could slowly feel myself slipping away, and I was starting to feel weak. I still clung onto the knife in my shaking hand still, blood dripping down it slowly.
"Stef... please... " and then he stopped crying out, and instead started to sob desperately. "Where are you Stef? Where are you... "
I so wanted to cry out and let him help me, take care of me, but I had been through that stage so many times. I couldn't let him see me like this. But then again, I couldn't stop my feelings either. I never asked to end up like this, but I still loved him deeply and I knew deep down that he was the one for me. I slowly stood up, staggering, and swallowing hard headed towards the door, wanting to hear more. I wanted to hear what he had to say before I finally went. I just wanted to be in his arms right now. Was that too much to ask for? I stood in the hallway, listening to him.
"I'm so sorry... " he cried. "I never meant to... leave... I mean... with Rachael and all... "
I changed my mind. My rage built up again at the sound of her name and I snarled once again, backing off. I held up the knife one last time and slit my wrist, but the sudden pain gripped me so much that I dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor loudly as I let out a cry in agony, suddenly gripping my hand and staring at it horrifically as more blood splurt through.
"Stef... ?!" Billie Joe asked, suddenly stopping in his crying and listening through the door.
I clamped my hand tightly over my mouth to prevent any more noise escaping, smearing blood across the side of my face as I bit my tongue in complete agony, my eyes starting to water.
"Stef?" He called out again. "Stef! Are you in there? Stef!"
I could hear him to start rattling against the door madly, frantically twisting the door handle, crying out. I watched as the door shook from the vibrations of him trying to force it open.
"Stef!"
In a panic I ran into the bathroom that was just literally behind me, still clamping my hand over my mouth and nabbing some toilet roll, quickly placing it over my open wounds, only to be soaked up with the thickness of the blood.
"STEF!" He screamed out like a mad man, his voice shrilling and ripping me apart inside.
I hated doing this to him but it was better this way. It seemed to be anyway.
"Excuse me," I heard a voice call from outside after a door opening, stopping Billie Joe mid screaming and catching his attention. "Can you please keep the noise down! I don't know what on earth is a matter with you but I'm trying to work in here! I'm sure the rest of the hotel don't - "
"Sir you gotta let me into your room!" Billie Joe pleaded with the man as I listened from inside the bathroom, still trying to stop the flow of blood.
"What? Excuse me, I don't think... "
Billie Joe cut him short again. "Sir please! You've got to let me! There's a girl in there and I - "
"I don't think you quite understand young man - "
"NO! YOU don't understand!" Billie Joe screamed.
I heard a sudden thud and a groan from the other person; I couldn't work out what was going on. Everything was happening so fast and it was turning out so wrong.
"Sir please, don't hurt me, I - "
"NOW LISTEN TO ME!" I heard Billie Joe cry. "Someone's life is at risk here! If you don't let me through then I'll have to force myself through! Do you get it?!"
There wasn't an answer. I suddenly heard a door close and Billie Joe's voice disappear. What the hell was he doing? Shit I was so scared and confused right now. I couldn't let him know I was here or find me. The blood soaked tissue stuck to my skin as the blood still failed to stop. My eyes darted about the bathroom, only seeing red splattered everywhere. I heard another cry come from inside the room next door to me.
"Sir, what are you doing? Are you insane?! No don't!"
I heard another loud clatter and a noise of clambering across metal as I peeked my head around the corner and into my room to see a hand clasp hold of the barrier on the balcony. I had stupidly left the doors open to the balcony from throwing my stuff about earlier. My pupils seemed to shrink and disintegrate into nothing as I recognised the familiar scribbling of 'Punx' on the hand that was tightly holding onto the balcony barrier.
No... No... Please... . Not Billie Joe... He couldn't find me... Not like this... Not now... Why? Just... why?!
My chest rose up in down in immense pressure as I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. I either HAD to stop the bleeding, or finish the job now. Before he found out. There was no way the bleeding was going to stop; I only had one option left. I couldn't let him ruin this for me either. I searched with my eyes frantically across the floor to find the knife, only to see it by the bed, near the balcony. As I looked up outside to see Billie Joe now heaving himself on to my balcony from the one in the room next to me, I knew I had to act fast. I ran forward leaning down and sweeping up the knife, looking up to see Billie Joe hanging on for dear life as he clung on tightly to the bars, his knuckles white.
His eyes met mine for the first time since I had found him with Rachael. They were frantic and showed signs of horror, and terror pumping through his whole body. His eyes met the knife in my hand. My hoody sleeves had fallen down as I had run from the bathroom covering up my slashes, which in a way was a good thing. I swallowed my heart, as I stood transfixed upon him, not knowing what to say or do as he just stared at the blood on the knife, clinging onto the balcony bar dangerously still.
"Stef!" He screamed, staring at the knife with those piercing green eyes of his. "Stef! Nooo!"
I took one final look at him before cracking up facially, letting a tear form and roll down my cheek before rolling up a sleeve revelling my cuts to him. He froze half balancing on the balcony, not believing what he was witnessing. Striking the knife in the air and letting him watch, I took another blow to my wrist.
"Nooooooo!" He screamed, reaching out with his hand trying to hold onto me.
But it was obvious I was nowhere near him. The knife cut down into my artery, making me collapse from lack of strength and blood pumping around me. The knife feel somewhere near me, but my vision was suddenly blurred. All I could hear was Billie Joe's own shrilling cries.
"Noooooooooo! Stef!" He screamed at the top of his lungs like I had never heard him scream before.
I saw him from the corner of my eye jump from off of the bars and onto the actual balcony, running into my room and by my side.
"Stef! Noooo! Stef!" He sobbed, breaking up at the sight of me dieing on the floor. "Oh shit... Stef... what the fuck have I done?"
He knelt down beside me, looking over me and taking my wrists in his. Horrified, he suddenly opened his palms to see what the sticky mess was that was dampening his skin. I don't think he realised how far I had taken things. He suddenly dropped my wrists, which fell to my side as I stared numb up at him, empty and cold inside. He stared at his palms that were now stained with my own blood, tears forming in his very own eyes and becoming hysterical.
"Oh shit... " he cried to himself before scrambling to his feet to use the phone when he suddenly realised that it wasn't on the desk anymore. Then realising that there was NOTHING on the desk or anywhere else. And that everything was on the floor. He spotted the phone on the floor a little distance away from my feet, lunging onto it and pounding in a few numbers, pressing the receiver to his ear hard.
"Tre!" He screamed. "Tre! Get your asses up here now! Now I said! No fucking questions! Tre, JUST DO IT!"
And before he could say anything else, his eyes feel upon the scrumpled picture of him that I had been staring at just a few minutes ago when I had first taken the blade to my skin.
"Holy shit... " he whispered ghostly, seeing the picture of him ripped up and letting the phone slip out of his hand and crash to the floor.
He crawled frantically over to me, getting down on his knees and pulling me across his lap, lifeless as anything. He cupped the bottom of my face in his bloodied hands, looking into my glazed eyes.
"Stef, please... " he sobbed, his eyes desperate and frantic. "Don't die... please... I never - meant to... I don't... please hold on... why... why was I... so - stupid... Stef... "
His tears choked him back, making it hard for him to speak. He clasped hold around my chest and heaved me up a little, resting my head against the end of the bed and the end part of the duvet that was draped over. He wrapped his left arm around my back and pressed me against him close, holding onto me tight like a stuffed animal. He started rocking backwards and forwards slightly, staring at me in horror as a single tear rolled down his ghostly white cheek, and not knowing what was going to happen or what he should do.
I was slipping away in his arms, and he knew it.
