A BJA & Angelia Story, chapter 3
Suddenly, breaking my relaxation - which i was loving of course, seeing as it was the first time i had actually relaxed in months - the house alarm went off. There was super-loud ringing going off all over the house and we were soon surrounded by a bunch of security guards. I stood up quickly, looking around to see what happened. A man dressed in dirty, ripped up jeans and an open blouse burst into the room, gun at point. I stared bug eyed at him, now happy that I had security gaurds all around me.
"GUN ON THE GROUND," a security gaurd screamed at him. The man didnt move.
"I SAID GUN ON THE GROUND."
Still, no motion. I looked around to see if everyone was okay. Deanna and Tre had a death grip on eachother, probably scared out of their minds. But, for some reason, I wasnt. I kind of enjoyed the anxiety rush.
"Sir, you have five seconds to drop the gun, or we shoot," the gaurd said, "FIVE," he paused, "FOUR," another pause, "THRE-," the gaurd was cut short as a bullet sliced easily through his leg. Then, the man, still holding the gun, brought it up slowly to his head, and shot.
All color drained from my face. There was an insane, dead guy laying on the ground only a few meters away from me and a gaurd laying beside me, crying and clutching his bleeding leg. Ambulances arrived almost immediately. Kaytee was crying into Jakobs chest, while he stood, hugging her, trying to calm her down. I can understand why she was so upset... seeing her first suicide and all, and suddenly, without warning, i started crying. Tears streamed down my face freely.
I walked into the kitchen, in a daze. The only thought that was running through my mind was: OH MY GOD. OH-MY-GOD. That didnt just happen. And yet, it had. Flipping on the TV, I saw the whole story replay. It showed the man on the carpet and then a picture of him came up and all his information. It changed back to the living room, a news reporter was reliving the experience all over for me. I walked back into the living room, cameras quickly shot in my direction. I wondered if they had done this to the others.
"Was the gun pointed at you?" one of the reporters asked.
"N.. N.. No," I stammered.
"Was it pointed at anyone else?" she asked. I wondered if maybe i should spice things up a bit and say it had been pointed at someone else. Nah.
"No," I said again. The cameras were taken off me and put back on the dead guy again. I rolled my eyes and went back into the kitchen.
My attention turned back to the TV and sure enough, there I was. Did I really look like that? My hair was laying limply on my shoulders, my waterproof eyeliner was kind of smudged from swimming and my face was unusally pale. Whatever. Deanna walked in and stood beside me.
"Lucky, you got to be on TV," she said, enviously. I half-smiled.
"Yeah, too bad i dont look too flattering," I replied.
"Still. I think I'm gonna try to get on. But first, I'm going to re-do my hair and make up" she said laughed.
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the counter thoughtfully. A few minutes later, she burst into the kitchen, beaming.
"Quick, get out of the way so i can see the TV!" Deanna cried. I inched over and half turned so I could see what the comotion was, even though I knew it was just going to be Deanna being asked the same questions I had gotten. Sure enough, there she was, same questions, same answeres. Whatever.
Once the house was clear of the corpse and news crews, everyone made their way to bed. I walked into the guest room and flipped on the light. My eyes widened at the sight. This room alone was probably as big as the whole upstairs of my old house. I walked over to the king sized bed, flopped myself down on the douvet and stared at the room surrounding me.
The walls were a bright shade of yellow that livened the room, there was a huge chandelier hanging from the roof, a couch in the far corner facing a plasma screen TV, a stereo on a dresser at the other end of the room, a desk with a laptop on it, a white rug, my bed of course with a lime green douvet, and my favorite part of all, the huge fishtank, taking up one whole wall, with the most gorgeous fish I had ever seen, swimming freely inside. I wished I could be one of those pretty fish. Then, blackness as i drifted into a reckless sleep.
I awoke the next morning to hearing someone turn on a blaring TV downstairs. I pulled myself lazily out of bed, dragging my blankets with me as I went. Looking around for my duffel, I pryed the blankets off me and opened one of the dresser droors, revealing a wide selection of clothes. I chose a tight pair of white capris and a black hulter top. Then, walking into the bathroom, I quickly brushed my teeth, washed my face and put on my make up.
"Good morning," Courtenay said as i walked into the kitchen.
"Morning," I chirped.
"Toast?" She asked. When i nodded, she buttered me a slice and handed it to me.
"Thanks," I murmured with my mouth full. Courtenay smiled in return.
I finished my toast, licked my fingers and dropped myself down on the couch beside Billie.
"Hey, how are you this morning?" Billie asked fondly.
"Never better," I replied, and that was the truth, i had never been better or happier in my entire life.
"Good to hear," he replyed.
"You wanna go for a swim?" Kaytee asked, walking into the room.
"Yeah, sure, I'll go," I piped up.
"Good stuff," she said, and went to her room to change.
This time, i really hoped my top wouldnt fly up, even though it was just me and Kaytee, it would still be embarrassing. We swam for a little over an hour, before deciding that we should head down to the theatre and watch a tear jerker. We climbed out of the pool as Deanna stepped out onto the deck in her bath robe, drying her hair with a towel.
"Can i come?" She asked.
"Sure, why not," Kaytee answered as we headed into the house.
"Think Court will wanna go?" I asked.
"Definitly," Deanna said.
We were recognized instantly as Court pulled the jeep onto the highway, but Court didnt even bat an eye at the screaming fans who thought that Billie, Tre or Mike could possibly be hiding under our seats or something, considering the jeep was roofless and the fans could see pretty clearly that the jeep was filled with girls. Deanna rolled her eyes at the screaming fans as if she saw things like this every day. But I smiled and waved at everyone who had saw me on the news and screamed my name or had it written across eight peoples stomaches.
"Don't even bother," Court said, without looking back, "they're just waving so you'll wave back and they can tell all their stupid friends that someone who knows Green Day and was on TV waved at them."
I stopped waving, clasped my hands together in my lap and wondered if the movie we were going to see would be any good or worth crying about. Hopefully.
"GUN ON THE GROUND," a security gaurd screamed at him. The man didnt move.
"I SAID GUN ON THE GROUND."
Still, no motion. I looked around to see if everyone was okay. Deanna and Tre had a death grip on eachother, probably scared out of their minds. But, for some reason, I wasnt. I kind of enjoyed the anxiety rush.
"Sir, you have five seconds to drop the gun, or we shoot," the gaurd said, "FIVE," he paused, "FOUR," another pause, "THRE-," the gaurd was cut short as a bullet sliced easily through his leg. Then, the man, still holding the gun, brought it up slowly to his head, and shot.
All color drained from my face. There was an insane, dead guy laying on the ground only a few meters away from me and a gaurd laying beside me, crying and clutching his bleeding leg. Ambulances arrived almost immediately. Kaytee was crying into Jakobs chest, while he stood, hugging her, trying to calm her down. I can understand why she was so upset... seeing her first suicide and all, and suddenly, without warning, i started crying. Tears streamed down my face freely.
I walked into the kitchen, in a daze. The only thought that was running through my mind was: OH MY GOD. OH-MY-GOD. That didnt just happen. And yet, it had. Flipping on the TV, I saw the whole story replay. It showed the man on the carpet and then a picture of him came up and all his information. It changed back to the living room, a news reporter was reliving the experience all over for me. I walked back into the living room, cameras quickly shot in my direction. I wondered if they had done this to the others.
"Was the gun pointed at you?" one of the reporters asked.
"N.. N.. No," I stammered.
"Was it pointed at anyone else?" she asked. I wondered if maybe i should spice things up a bit and say it had been pointed at someone else. Nah.
"No," I said again. The cameras were taken off me and put back on the dead guy again. I rolled my eyes and went back into the kitchen.
My attention turned back to the TV and sure enough, there I was. Did I really look like that? My hair was laying limply on my shoulders, my waterproof eyeliner was kind of smudged from swimming and my face was unusally pale. Whatever. Deanna walked in and stood beside me.
"Lucky, you got to be on TV," she said, enviously. I half-smiled.
"Yeah, too bad i dont look too flattering," I replied.
"Still. I think I'm gonna try to get on. But first, I'm going to re-do my hair and make up" she said laughed.
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the counter thoughtfully. A few minutes later, she burst into the kitchen, beaming.
"Quick, get out of the way so i can see the TV!" Deanna cried. I inched over and half turned so I could see what the comotion was, even though I knew it was just going to be Deanna being asked the same questions I had gotten. Sure enough, there she was, same questions, same answeres. Whatever.
Once the house was clear of the corpse and news crews, everyone made their way to bed. I walked into the guest room and flipped on the light. My eyes widened at the sight. This room alone was probably as big as the whole upstairs of my old house. I walked over to the king sized bed, flopped myself down on the douvet and stared at the room surrounding me.
The walls were a bright shade of yellow that livened the room, there was a huge chandelier hanging from the roof, a couch in the far corner facing a plasma screen TV, a stereo on a dresser at the other end of the room, a desk with a laptop on it, a white rug, my bed of course with a lime green douvet, and my favorite part of all, the huge fishtank, taking up one whole wall, with the most gorgeous fish I had ever seen, swimming freely inside. I wished I could be one of those pretty fish. Then, blackness as i drifted into a reckless sleep.
I awoke the next morning to hearing someone turn on a blaring TV downstairs. I pulled myself lazily out of bed, dragging my blankets with me as I went. Looking around for my duffel, I pryed the blankets off me and opened one of the dresser droors, revealing a wide selection of clothes. I chose a tight pair of white capris and a black hulter top. Then, walking into the bathroom, I quickly brushed my teeth, washed my face and put on my make up.
"Good morning," Courtenay said as i walked into the kitchen.
"Morning," I chirped.
"Toast?" She asked. When i nodded, she buttered me a slice and handed it to me.
"Thanks," I murmured with my mouth full. Courtenay smiled in return.
I finished my toast, licked my fingers and dropped myself down on the couch beside Billie.
"Hey, how are you this morning?" Billie asked fondly.
"Never better," I replied, and that was the truth, i had never been better or happier in my entire life.
"Good to hear," he replyed.
"You wanna go for a swim?" Kaytee asked, walking into the room.
"Yeah, sure, I'll go," I piped up.
"Good stuff," she said, and went to her room to change.
This time, i really hoped my top wouldnt fly up, even though it was just me and Kaytee, it would still be embarrassing. We swam for a little over an hour, before deciding that we should head down to the theatre and watch a tear jerker. We climbed out of the pool as Deanna stepped out onto the deck in her bath robe, drying her hair with a towel.
"Can i come?" She asked.
"Sure, why not," Kaytee answered as we headed into the house.
"Think Court will wanna go?" I asked.
"Definitly," Deanna said.
We were recognized instantly as Court pulled the jeep onto the highway, but Court didnt even bat an eye at the screaming fans who thought that Billie, Tre or Mike could possibly be hiding under our seats or something, considering the jeep was roofless and the fans could see pretty clearly that the jeep was filled with girls. Deanna rolled her eyes at the screaming fans as if she saw things like this every day. But I smiled and waved at everyone who had saw me on the news and screamed my name or had it written across eight peoples stomaches.
"Don't even bother," Court said, without looking back, "they're just waving so you'll wave back and they can tell all their stupid friends that someone who knows Green Day and was on TV waved at them."
I stopped waving, clasped my hands together in my lap and wondered if the movie we were going to see would be any good or worth crying about. Hopefully.
