Like Father Like Daughter, chapter 2

Hi. My name is Riley Maria Kensington. I'm 14 years old, almost 15. I have brown hair that used to be red but it faded to brown and my eyes are bluish-green.

I was born to teenage parents who lived in California somewhere. But I was adopted and lived in Laguna Beach but my parents and I moved to Long Island when I was about 3.

When I was 9, my parents died in a car crash on their way to an anniversary dinner. They were married 11 years.

I was moved to an adoption home in Newark, New Jersey. It was okay there but I've been so messed up since my parents death and I can't get over it. We were so close and they were always there for me when I needed them.

On my 12th birthday, I was moved to an adoption center in Sacramento, California. They never told me why.

I hate it here. I hate it so much. The people here are so mean to me. They keep pressuring me to do things I don't want to do.

About 6 months ago, my "friends" and I went to this party. They took me into the basement and I was raped by this guy who was much older than me. It was so scary.

I had one friend, Emily. She was two years older than me and she was constantly dyeing her hair. When I think of her I remember her hair blue because the dye was the exact same color of her eyes. She died of a drug overdose 4 months ago. Everyone says it was an accidental overdose because she seemed so happy and all, but I know it was suicide. She didn't tell me that or anything, but I'm so sure because I know she wasn't happy liked she seemed.

I've been smoking for about a year now, and I drink a lot. I'm such a wreck. I sit in the dark corner of my room with scissors sometimes when I'm really sad and cut myself. I'm so pathetic.

Music is my life. I play a black Fender Straocaster my parents gave me for my 9th birthday, shortly before their passing. My favorite bands ever are The Misfits, Motorhead, Led Zeppelin, Ramones, Slipknot, Green Day, and Nirvana.

Today is June 17, 2002. My birthday is in nine days. Yay for me! But it's not all that bad. During the holidays and your birthday they get you two presents you want. I got my gifts early, since I won't be here on my birthday.

One week ago I found out my father was Billie Joe Armstrong, lead singer of Green Day, one of my favorite bands, and he was coming to adopt me today.

I can't believe it. There he was, some dude in a cool band you've liked since you were little and you think he's so great and all. I know I was adopted, and yes, I've wondered who my parents might be, but did I ever stop to think if Billie Joe Armstrong was my father?? BILLIE JOE FUCKING ARMSTRONG??? No fucking way!!!!! But it's true. And there's nothing I can do to change that. Well, not that I want to change it. Then again, I don't really know him. I mean, I've seen him on T.V. and all and he seems like a good guy, but who knows??

I've just finished packing my belongings into an old black suitcase the people who work here gave me. Here's what's inside:

-Misfits t-shirt
-CDs (my favorite bands and some other stuff)
-Walkman
-Ramones t-shirt
-Pink Floyd t-shirt
-Cigarettes
-A black shirt with a skull
-Sex Pistols t-shirt
-Some more black shirts with assorted things on them
-3 pairs of blue jeans
-Slipknot t-shirt
-Plain black pants
-Black eyeliner
-Red lip-gloss
-Guitar pictures
-An extra set of guitar strings
-Plaid lowtop Converse
-Hot pink and electric blue checkered Vans
-Plastic bracelets in all different colors

I also have my Misfits, Ramones, and Green Day posters I just took down in there. The wall looks so empty.

Right now I'm wearing a green shirt with a black skull on the sleeve so that my eyes pop out and maybe when Billie Joe sees me he'll be all like "We kind of have the same eye color". I'm also wearing plain blue jeans and my Vans and some bracelets and a skull ring. I'm looking at my guitar laying on the floor with the hot pink guitar strap laying on it. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't have a guitar case.

Well, Mrs. Larson, the head person around here, has just informed that he's here. You know, Billie Joe, my DAD.

I guess it's time to go. Wish me luck. I hope I don't do anything stupid.