Silent Tears, chapter 15
*Billie Joe's P.O.V*
Fuck you Skye.
I've been hammering on her door for the past fifteen minutes, what the fuck is she doing in there?
When she came in with tears streaming down her face, jogging as fast as she could with two crapped-up ankles, barged past me on the stairs and locked herself in her room, I knew something was wrong.
I don't think she's going to open the door.
I do what Mike did, when I hit her. I run outside and shin myself up the drainpipe until I'm level with her room, I glance into her room and nearly fall off the pipe in shock.
Skye is lying in a pool of blood, her sleeves rolled up. There are several new, deep cuts on her arm, none on her wrist, just several on her forearm. They're not bleeding...of course not, don't be silly...blood doesn't bleed from a dead person...
I completely freak out and forget everything Mike told me about what to do if you find her like this. I am totally focused on just getting in there, I need to be with her, I need to hold her and know she's not really dead, she can't be... she can't be, I need her too much...
Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I try to open the window, I run into the house and hammer on her door with a new found ferocity. "SKYE!" I yell, she can't be dead, she just can't be. I just know she's going to open up the door and look at me quizzically, and it's going to all have been a dream, and she's going to have been doing her homework or something...
But she doesn't, because it isn't a dream, it's reality. I slump down, leaning against the wall to her room; somehow, I know this is the wall and the place she's leaning against, dead. I wish I could die too, without Skye, I've got nothing left to live for, I miss her already... her ethereally white shin and hair, her large red eyes, the way she would look at me like I was the best thing in the world...
She was my daughter, I loved her.
Wait, I'm talking like she's dead, she can't be dead, she won't be, I can't give up hope yet. I struggle up, almost fall down the stairs and pick up the phone.
Almost automatically I dial 911.
***
*Mike's P.O.V*
When my cell phone rings, I don't think twice about picking up when I see 'fuckheads phone' flash up on the screen... it's either Billie Joe or Tre.
It's Billie. He sounds panic stricken. Nothing against Skye, but Tre hopes she's slit her wrists and died.
"Mike, it's Skye." Damn; one point to Tre. "She's dead!" SHIT! Two points to Tre!
I almost throw the phone against the wall in frustration, and then I remember how rotten Billie Joe must be feeling. I consider how best to comfort him.
"What happened?" that'll give him something to talk about.
"I...I don't really know. She said she wanted to go and see her parents' graves... she came back in tears and locked herself in her room, where she... she..." He breaks off, sobbing with suppressed emotion. In that moment I realise how much she truly meant to Billie Joe, she wasn't just an adopted kid with problems; she was his new life, his new family. In that moment, my heart goes out to him, and I almost find myself praying that Skye isn't dead, she just has to be ok, Billie Joe's life depends on it.
***
*Billie Joe's P.O.V*
I sit by Skye and hold her tiny little hand in mine. She isn't dead, but there isn't much life left in her. I look at her bony face, hoping to see her blood-red eyes flicker open, instead, her lids remain closed, her eyeliner smudged slightly, but her mascara still intact. The monitors bleep in a continuous rhythm, to me it sounds like some sort of funeral march.
Her chest is rising and falling beneath her 'black parade' t-shirt. It's upsetting to think that she's only breathing, her heart is only beating because of a machine... she's on a life support machine, without it, she'd have died a while ago. It monitors her brainwaves; she's still alive and awake, in her head.
The doctor says she's one of the strongest people he's ever seen, all the other people in this situation would have given up almost straight away after she went for her pressure point. She just blacked out; she's really active inside her head. The doctor says she can hear everything I say and feel everything that touches her. Her other senses have become pretty acute since she went into this state.
I'm getting almost no response from her lifeless body, but I find myself talking to her, telling her about a new song we're working on, and for some reason, when I tell her it's about a girl in a coma her brainwaves go berserk, as if she really is trying to get better and wake up.
*Skye's P.O.V*
I need to wake up. I'm not in a coma, I can't be. I'm dead, but there's a load of bleeping that I find funny. Whenever I think harder, the bleeping becomes quicker. I've been experimenting recently when I'm sure I'm on my own, I can get it to play a monophonic version of American Idiot, Helena and Welcome to the Black Parade so far. It amuses me when I'm bored; which is quite often nowadays.
The only thing that keeps me sane (and therefore alive) is that Mike sometimes brings some of my old CDs along with him, and when all I can feel and picture is numbness and a black night without dawn, I just remember the songs.
Billie Joe's crying, I can feel his tears dripping onto my hand he's holding. I hate it, I need to wake up, but every day I can feel myself getting weaker, I have to sing mental songs almost every other second now... I'm not sure how much longer I can keep myself alive.
***
*Skye's P.O.V*
"Now come on one come all to this tragic affair. Wipe off that make up - what's in is despair. So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot, you might wake up and notice you're someone you're not."
Mike's put the Black parade on again.
I actually like it a lot. It's really very comforting when you're on your own because Mike, Billie Joe and Tre have gone to get a drink from the cafeteria upstairs. They've decided that I'm not going to be waking up anytime soon, so they can leave me for a second. It's been more than a second, three minutes by my fairly-accurate body clock. They're usually away for at least ten minutes when they do this. Plenty of time to sit and listen to My Chemical Romance, not that there's much else I can do.
"And if your heart stops beating, I'll be here wondering, did you get what you deserve? The ending of your life. And if you get to heaven, I'll be here waiting, babe. Did you get what you deserve? The end. And if your life won't wait, then your heart can't take this... "
Ok, there is really something depressing about listening to 'dead' when you're in a coma and being kept alive by machines... I've tried playing it on the bleepy machine, but it doesn't sound right in monophonic. I can feel my body start to reconnect to my mind, I bet if I tried moving a finger I'd be able to...
Just as 'This is how I Disappear' comes on, Billie Joe, Mike and Tre walk back down the stairs, talking about me, they don't know if I'll ever wake up.
Never... wake up... But I'm waking up right now! I can't stay like this forever! I know what happens if you stay like this to long, they'll switch the life support machine off, my body will shut down and I'll be in eternal darkness, I'll never wake up...
I can't do that. Billie Joe would kill himself. A world without Skye seems all good and well, a world without Green Day is unbearable. I could never do that to the fans, the one's who think they understand Green Day, the ones who, in their stupid, loving way, think they would be perfect for Billie Joe/Mike/Tre. I can't take him away from them.
The panic rushes through my body, freezing every muscle and particle in me. My mind clouds over and I can vaguely hear random snatches of songs from the Black Parade. Life seems to be in a spin, I'm not sure how long I lie there, Billie Joe holding my hand, a doctor telling Mike and Tre that only I can save me now... I don't understand any of it, it's all blurring, even Gerard Ways vocals are becoming distorted in my mind, let alone Billie Joe's voice telling me to hold on, I'm not going to be ok, I have to hold on but I can't, memories rush past my eyes... I'm standing in a hurricane of pain, blood, tears, knives, Green Day, My Chemical Romance... Then a familiar voice talks to me, out of the blackness, out of the pain...
"I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world along, honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven, nothing you can say can stop me going home..."
It's only the Gerard Way singing 'Famous Last Words' but it gives me some reality to hang on to... if this is my last memory, then it's certainly my best... I cling to his voice, the song pounding through my head, like a drowning person clinging to a log; I cling to life and waking... I have to wake up, I have to see Billie Joe again, I need a last memory with him, I'm too young...
*Normal P.O.V*
Skye's eyes flickered open, a bright sparkling red emerging from under the ghostly white of her lids. She looked around in confusion, no one was in vision. She was on her own, in a white room, a monitor bleeping happily next to her. Billie Joe had left her alone, to die. The Black Parade ended and Skye tried to turn it back on, she only succeeded in upsetting the glass of water by her bedside. The glass shattered and water splattered all over the floor.
A nurse ran in to see what was going on. She took one look at 'the girl in a coma' sitting up in her bed, confused and alarmed by the smashing of the glass. Clumsily Skye reached for the black notebook and pen next to the bed and gingerly put her writing skills to the test. After a moment of intense concentration from Skye, she held up a note saying; 'Could you hit the play button on the CD player please?' The nurse tottered over to the CD player, pushed the play button, took a deep breath and ran out again. Skye could hear her talking excitedly to people outside but all that she really cared about was that My Chemical Romance, the band that had unwittingly saved her life, was playing again.
Billie Joe ran in, to see Skye, sitting up happily in her bed, doodling in the notepad Tre had given her. He ran over to her and hugged her tightly, not noticing Tre taking pictures with his phone in the doorway. "I love you," Billie Joe muttered as Skye squirmed slightly in his arms.
*Skye's P.O.V*
I love you too, Dad. Now, let go.
Fuck you Skye.
I've been hammering on her door for the past fifteen minutes, what the fuck is she doing in there?
When she came in with tears streaming down her face, jogging as fast as she could with two crapped-up ankles, barged past me on the stairs and locked herself in her room, I knew something was wrong.
I don't think she's going to open the door.
I do what Mike did, when I hit her. I run outside and shin myself up the drainpipe until I'm level with her room, I glance into her room and nearly fall off the pipe in shock.
Skye is lying in a pool of blood, her sleeves rolled up. There are several new, deep cuts on her arm, none on her wrist, just several on her forearm. They're not bleeding...of course not, don't be silly...blood doesn't bleed from a dead person...
I completely freak out and forget everything Mike told me about what to do if you find her like this. I am totally focused on just getting in there, I need to be with her, I need to hold her and know she's not really dead, she can't be... she can't be, I need her too much...
Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I try to open the window, I run into the house and hammer on her door with a new found ferocity. "SKYE!" I yell, she can't be dead, she just can't be. I just know she's going to open up the door and look at me quizzically, and it's going to all have been a dream, and she's going to have been doing her homework or something...
But she doesn't, because it isn't a dream, it's reality. I slump down, leaning against the wall to her room; somehow, I know this is the wall and the place she's leaning against, dead. I wish I could die too, without Skye, I've got nothing left to live for, I miss her already... her ethereally white shin and hair, her large red eyes, the way she would look at me like I was the best thing in the world...
She was my daughter, I loved her.
Wait, I'm talking like she's dead, she can't be dead, she won't be, I can't give up hope yet. I struggle up, almost fall down the stairs and pick up the phone.
Almost automatically I dial 911.
***
*Mike's P.O.V*
When my cell phone rings, I don't think twice about picking up when I see 'fuckheads phone' flash up on the screen... it's either Billie Joe or Tre.
It's Billie. He sounds panic stricken. Nothing against Skye, but Tre hopes she's slit her wrists and died.
"Mike, it's Skye." Damn; one point to Tre. "She's dead!" SHIT! Two points to Tre!
I almost throw the phone against the wall in frustration, and then I remember how rotten Billie Joe must be feeling. I consider how best to comfort him.
"What happened?" that'll give him something to talk about.
"I...I don't really know. She said she wanted to go and see her parents' graves... she came back in tears and locked herself in her room, where she... she..." He breaks off, sobbing with suppressed emotion. In that moment I realise how much she truly meant to Billie Joe, she wasn't just an adopted kid with problems; she was his new life, his new family. In that moment, my heart goes out to him, and I almost find myself praying that Skye isn't dead, she just has to be ok, Billie Joe's life depends on it.
***
*Billie Joe's P.O.V*
I sit by Skye and hold her tiny little hand in mine. She isn't dead, but there isn't much life left in her. I look at her bony face, hoping to see her blood-red eyes flicker open, instead, her lids remain closed, her eyeliner smudged slightly, but her mascara still intact. The monitors bleep in a continuous rhythm, to me it sounds like some sort of funeral march.
Her chest is rising and falling beneath her 'black parade' t-shirt. It's upsetting to think that she's only breathing, her heart is only beating because of a machine... she's on a life support machine, without it, she'd have died a while ago. It monitors her brainwaves; she's still alive and awake, in her head.
The doctor says she's one of the strongest people he's ever seen, all the other people in this situation would have given up almost straight away after she went for her pressure point. She just blacked out; she's really active inside her head. The doctor says she can hear everything I say and feel everything that touches her. Her other senses have become pretty acute since she went into this state.
I'm getting almost no response from her lifeless body, but I find myself talking to her, telling her about a new song we're working on, and for some reason, when I tell her it's about a girl in a coma her brainwaves go berserk, as if she really is trying to get better and wake up.
*Skye's P.O.V*
I need to wake up. I'm not in a coma, I can't be. I'm dead, but there's a load of bleeping that I find funny. Whenever I think harder, the bleeping becomes quicker. I've been experimenting recently when I'm sure I'm on my own, I can get it to play a monophonic version of American Idiot, Helena and Welcome to the Black Parade so far. It amuses me when I'm bored; which is quite often nowadays.
The only thing that keeps me sane (and therefore alive) is that Mike sometimes brings some of my old CDs along with him, and when all I can feel and picture is numbness and a black night without dawn, I just remember the songs.
Billie Joe's crying, I can feel his tears dripping onto my hand he's holding. I hate it, I need to wake up, but every day I can feel myself getting weaker, I have to sing mental songs almost every other second now... I'm not sure how much longer I can keep myself alive.
***
*Skye's P.O.V*
"Now come on one come all to this tragic affair. Wipe off that make up - what's in is despair. So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot, you might wake up and notice you're someone you're not."
Mike's put the Black parade on again.
I actually like it a lot. It's really very comforting when you're on your own because Mike, Billie Joe and Tre have gone to get a drink from the cafeteria upstairs. They've decided that I'm not going to be waking up anytime soon, so they can leave me for a second. It's been more than a second, three minutes by my fairly-accurate body clock. They're usually away for at least ten minutes when they do this. Plenty of time to sit and listen to My Chemical Romance, not that there's much else I can do.
"And if your heart stops beating, I'll be here wondering, did you get what you deserve? The ending of your life. And if you get to heaven, I'll be here waiting, babe. Did you get what you deserve? The end. And if your life won't wait, then your heart can't take this... "
Ok, there is really something depressing about listening to 'dead' when you're in a coma and being kept alive by machines... I've tried playing it on the bleepy machine, but it doesn't sound right in monophonic. I can feel my body start to reconnect to my mind, I bet if I tried moving a finger I'd be able to...
Just as 'This is how I Disappear' comes on, Billie Joe, Mike and Tre walk back down the stairs, talking about me, they don't know if I'll ever wake up.
Never... wake up... But I'm waking up right now! I can't stay like this forever! I know what happens if you stay like this to long, they'll switch the life support machine off, my body will shut down and I'll be in eternal darkness, I'll never wake up...
I can't do that. Billie Joe would kill himself. A world without Skye seems all good and well, a world without Green Day is unbearable. I could never do that to the fans, the one's who think they understand Green Day, the ones who, in their stupid, loving way, think they would be perfect for Billie Joe/Mike/Tre. I can't take him away from them.
The panic rushes through my body, freezing every muscle and particle in me. My mind clouds over and I can vaguely hear random snatches of songs from the Black Parade. Life seems to be in a spin, I'm not sure how long I lie there, Billie Joe holding my hand, a doctor telling Mike and Tre that only I can save me now... I don't understand any of it, it's all blurring, even Gerard Ways vocals are becoming distorted in my mind, let alone Billie Joe's voice telling me to hold on, I'm not going to be ok, I have to hold on but I can't, memories rush past my eyes... I'm standing in a hurricane of pain, blood, tears, knives, Green Day, My Chemical Romance... Then a familiar voice talks to me, out of the blackness, out of the pain...
"I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world along, honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven, nothing you can say can stop me going home..."
It's only the Gerard Way singing 'Famous Last Words' but it gives me some reality to hang on to... if this is my last memory, then it's certainly my best... I cling to his voice, the song pounding through my head, like a drowning person clinging to a log; I cling to life and waking... I have to wake up, I have to see Billie Joe again, I need a last memory with him, I'm too young...
*Normal P.O.V*
Skye's eyes flickered open, a bright sparkling red emerging from under the ghostly white of her lids. She looked around in confusion, no one was in vision. She was on her own, in a white room, a monitor bleeping happily next to her. Billie Joe had left her alone, to die. The Black Parade ended and Skye tried to turn it back on, she only succeeded in upsetting the glass of water by her bedside. The glass shattered and water splattered all over the floor.
A nurse ran in to see what was going on. She took one look at 'the girl in a coma' sitting up in her bed, confused and alarmed by the smashing of the glass. Clumsily Skye reached for the black notebook and pen next to the bed and gingerly put her writing skills to the test. After a moment of intense concentration from Skye, she held up a note saying; 'Could you hit the play button on the CD player please?' The nurse tottered over to the CD player, pushed the play button, took a deep breath and ran out again. Skye could hear her talking excitedly to people outside but all that she really cared about was that My Chemical Romance, the band that had unwittingly saved her life, was playing again.
Billie Joe ran in, to see Skye, sitting up happily in her bed, doodling in the notepad Tre had given her. He ran over to her and hugged her tightly, not noticing Tre taking pictures with his phone in the doorway. "I love you," Billie Joe muttered as Skye squirmed slightly in his arms.
*Skye's P.O.V*
I love you too, Dad. Now, let go.
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