She's my Fucking Daughter! I Have to See Her!, chapter 5

Same Time
Still Nobody's POV

I opened my door and sat on my bed. I flipped through the drawings lain across my blanket. I picked out the on that I had brought to Voodoo Fest. Tonight. It was of Billie Joe.

I taped it on my wall and stood back. I read the writing. "To Nobody, Love, Billie Joe Armstrong"

My smile dropped. I know it sounds strange, but, it feels like he's calling me "Nobody." Just like everyone else.

I lie on my bed and put my head back on the pillow. I started to think. For some reason, I couldn't get Mom out of my head. She tells me that she's thirty-one. I don't think she is. She said she had me when she was eighteen. I don't think she did.

I was born in 1985. It's 1998. 1985-1998=13. Thirteen! She had me when she was thirteen! She lied!

She lied. She lied! She lied about how old she was when she had me and I bet that she's lied about other things! I bet she's even lied about... my... father...

I'm sure she has. She says that he's in a band and that they're pretty popular. He lives in California with his wife and two kids. He has a family...

I started to cry. I can't take it anymore! I just know that I'll never meet him! I get so sick of crying all the time!

I ran to the bureau and rapidly pulled open the drawer. I felt through the clothes and grabbed the handle. It was cold in my hand and I looked at my reflection in the blade.

I quickly rolled up the sleeve of my black hoodie and let the blade slide down my arm. I watched the blood trickle to the floor along with my tears. I winced at the feeling.

I grabbed a band-aid out of the drawer and rapped up my arm. I looked at the numerous scars down my arm.

I really need to stop doing this.

Billie's POV

I watched in horror through the binoculars as the blade of the knife slid down my daughter's arm. My mouth dropped. My eyes went wide. I swallowed. It hurt.

"What?" Mike asked, looking out the window trying to see. "Why would she do this to herself?" I said.
"What?"
"I can't believe this."
"What?"
"Why would she?"
"WHAT?!"

I snapped back and turned to him.
"Dude," he said," Your face is white."
I started to cry.
"Just tell me," he said sympathetically, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"M-my..."I tried to say.
"What?" he said.

"My baby needs me."