Silent Tears, chapter 10
The drive home was a quiet one. Billie Joe was in the front seat, fuming, Skye was in the back, preparing for what she was sure would come.
She was right. It came almost as soon as she had hobbled through the front door. Billie Joe slammed the door and turned to face her.
"WHAT IN HELLS NAME WERE YOU DOING?" he yelled. Skye made no movement to get her notepad.
"SKYE, THERE ARE SOME THINGS YOU REALLY HAVE TO LEARN, LIKE NOT ACTING ON SELFISH IMPULSE!" Skye said and did nothing.
"I MEAN, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?! YOU CAN'T JUST GO AROUND, RANDOMLY SMASHING GLASS JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL LIKE IT!" Skye twiddled her fingers, same old, first with her mum, then with random adopted parents, now with Billie Joe. "FUCK, SKYE, ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?" Billie Joe grabbed her shoulders. Skye looked up, scared, she knew what usually happened, she shook her head frantically, not understanding a word he was saying.
Billie Joe dug his fingertips into Skye's shoulders, hurting her. "I said, are you listening to me?" He said, his voice deathly quiet, but Skye's mind had blanked out, the only thing she was thinking about was how to avoid getting hurt, so she shook her head.
Billie Joe's mind blacked out in much the same way as Skye's, only his wasn't so good. He hit her and kicked her, all the while yelling at her that she was stupid, and was she deaf as well as mad.
Skye backed up into a corner and cowered there, letting each blow land, knowing that if she tried to stop it, it would be twice as bad, and all the while she was wishing she was dead.
***
Billie Joe stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Skye was left in a crumpled and bleeding heap on the hallway floor. Her normally death-white face had gone crimson, stained with her own blood, she lay there, letting it bleed, not even having the strength to stand.
She knew that he would be back later, drunk and in an even worse mood, so she slowly and painfully crawled up the stairs, tears running down her cheeks, like the blood which ran freely from her.
When she finally reached her room, she locked the door behind her and lay there in the dark, her head filled with a throbbing pain.
***
"Ok, Skye, I'll be back tomorrow morning, I promise," Billie Joe told Skye as he put his jacket on. Skye looked confused and held up a small bit of paper with the message 'Are you going drinking,' on it.
"No, Skye I'm not going drinking with Tre and Mike, I gotta go perform at a concert, remember?"
Another bit of paper, 'Can I come?'
"No, Skye. I couldn't get you a ticket, sorry. I'll be back tomorrow morning, and we can go to the cinema in the afternoon, ok?" Skye just looked down and shuffled her feet until Billie Joe had walked out the door, closing it behind him. Skye went and shut herself in her room.
Skye cried, nothing had gone right the past few days, since Billie Joe had almost killed her he hadn't talked to her, and she had kept herself locked in her room, refusing all the food that Mike had tried to push under the door. Mike had come over every day, tried to get her to eat, then sat outside her room for hours, talking to her, trying to get her to come out.
After Billie Joe had stormed off, he'd gone to the pub, but met Mike outside, who'd asked about her. When Mike found out what Billie Joe had done, he'd driven straight back to Billie's looked for Skye, found nothing but a small trail of blood on the carpet followed it and come face-to-face with a locked door.
Mike had then gone outside and climbed the drainpipe to get into Skye's open window. Several days later, and here she was, bruised and battered, but no longer bleeding.
Skye cried because of the pain, she cried because of the betrayal, but mostly, she cried because Billie Joe had promised her and broken his promise. She reached over to her suitcase, and found what she was looking for...
***
Billie Joe rummaged around in his bag when his mobile went off. "Fuck it, where is it." He muttered. When he found it he groaned, the person who was calling was Mrs. Winchester, the bitch who lived next door to him. He'd asked her to keep half an eye on Skye (he's a poet and he doesn't know it!) What in god's name could Skye have got up to already?!
"Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Armstrong."
"What's she done?"
"Well, when I went in, to give her some food, she didn't come down, so I went up to her room, to fetch her down."
"And?"
"She's in hospital. She tried to fucking kill herself!"
She was right. It came almost as soon as she had hobbled through the front door. Billie Joe slammed the door and turned to face her.
"WHAT IN HELLS NAME WERE YOU DOING?" he yelled. Skye made no movement to get her notepad.
"SKYE, THERE ARE SOME THINGS YOU REALLY HAVE TO LEARN, LIKE NOT ACTING ON SELFISH IMPULSE!" Skye said and did nothing.
"I MEAN, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?! YOU CAN'T JUST GO AROUND, RANDOMLY SMASHING GLASS JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL LIKE IT!" Skye twiddled her fingers, same old, first with her mum, then with random adopted parents, now with Billie Joe. "FUCK, SKYE, ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?" Billie Joe grabbed her shoulders. Skye looked up, scared, she knew what usually happened, she shook her head frantically, not understanding a word he was saying.
Billie Joe dug his fingertips into Skye's shoulders, hurting her. "I said, are you listening to me?" He said, his voice deathly quiet, but Skye's mind had blanked out, the only thing she was thinking about was how to avoid getting hurt, so she shook her head.
Billie Joe's mind blacked out in much the same way as Skye's, only his wasn't so good. He hit her and kicked her, all the while yelling at her that she was stupid, and was she deaf as well as mad.
Skye backed up into a corner and cowered there, letting each blow land, knowing that if she tried to stop it, it would be twice as bad, and all the while she was wishing she was dead.
***
Billie Joe stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Skye was left in a crumpled and bleeding heap on the hallway floor. Her normally death-white face had gone crimson, stained with her own blood, she lay there, letting it bleed, not even having the strength to stand.
She knew that he would be back later, drunk and in an even worse mood, so she slowly and painfully crawled up the stairs, tears running down her cheeks, like the blood which ran freely from her.
When she finally reached her room, she locked the door behind her and lay there in the dark, her head filled with a throbbing pain.
***
"Ok, Skye, I'll be back tomorrow morning, I promise," Billie Joe told Skye as he put his jacket on. Skye looked confused and held up a small bit of paper with the message 'Are you going drinking,' on it.
"No, Skye I'm not going drinking with Tre and Mike, I gotta go perform at a concert, remember?"
Another bit of paper, 'Can I come?'
"No, Skye. I couldn't get you a ticket, sorry. I'll be back tomorrow morning, and we can go to the cinema in the afternoon, ok?" Skye just looked down and shuffled her feet until Billie Joe had walked out the door, closing it behind him. Skye went and shut herself in her room.
Skye cried, nothing had gone right the past few days, since Billie Joe had almost killed her he hadn't talked to her, and she had kept herself locked in her room, refusing all the food that Mike had tried to push under the door. Mike had come over every day, tried to get her to eat, then sat outside her room for hours, talking to her, trying to get her to come out.
After Billie Joe had stormed off, he'd gone to the pub, but met Mike outside, who'd asked about her. When Mike found out what Billie Joe had done, he'd driven straight back to Billie's looked for Skye, found nothing but a small trail of blood on the carpet followed it and come face-to-face with a locked door.
Mike had then gone outside and climbed the drainpipe to get into Skye's open window. Several days later, and here she was, bruised and battered, but no longer bleeding.
Skye cried because of the pain, she cried because of the betrayal, but mostly, she cried because Billie Joe had promised her and broken his promise. She reached over to her suitcase, and found what she was looking for...
***
Billie Joe rummaged around in his bag when his mobile went off. "Fuck it, where is it." He muttered. When he found it he groaned, the person who was calling was Mrs. Winchester, the bitch who lived next door to him. He'd asked her to keep half an eye on Skye (he's a poet and he doesn't know it!) What in god's name could Skye have got up to already?!
"Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Armstrong."
"What's she done?"
"Well, when I went in, to give her some food, she didn't come down, so I went up to her room, to fetch her down."
"And?"
"She's in hospital. She tried to fucking kill herself!"
