Silent Tears, chapter 6
*Billie Joe's P.O.V*
I pull the plug. Sorry, that sound's really dramatic, like I've just turned someone's life support machine off... Nah.
Right, that's it. I've unplugged the phone. How the fuck am I supposed to think when people keep phoning you up, trying to sell double glazing, mobile phones, garden furniture?
I pick up Skye 's guitar again (I think she calls it Death) and try to figure out some more riff's for a song. (Reason's for using Skye's guitar, not mine; 1) One of my strings snapped so I need to get a replacement. 2) It's black. 3) I wanted to try it out.)
*Normal P.O.V*
*At school*
"I can't get in touch with Mr. Armstrong, Sir." The receptionist told the headmaster.
"Well, try one of his friend's. Ummm... Try this 'Tre' person." The headmaster replied, not taking his eyes away from the window where you could clearly see Skye crouching by the fence, knife in hand.
"Ok." The receptionist dialled the number.
*Five minutes later*
Skye got into the back seat of Tre's car without any fuss, and sat there quivering. Tre got in and started to drive. For the journey, Skye was quiet enough, when they got to Tre's house, however, she hobbled in as quick as she could, and sat on his sofa, so that, when he came in, she was crouched on the corner of his sofa, staring at him with her large, black eyes.
Keeping his eyes on hers he sat down at the other end of the sofa.
Neither moved and neither blinked, it was like a staring contest of the worst kind.
Skye blinked.
"Ha ha! You blinked!" Tre shouted, pointing at Skye and laughing; not the smartest thing in the world.
Like a flash, the silver blade struck again, this time finding it's way into the back of Tre's hand. Tre screamed like a little girl and reached for the phone.
*Billie Joe's P.O.V*
There, practice all done. Now, to re-plug the phone.
I put the plug back, turn to walk away, and the phone rings. I walk back and pick up.
"Hello?"
"Billie -"
"Tre?"
"Yes, fucktard, anyway, you'd better get over here quick. Your kid got sent home from school with me 'cause they couldn't get hold of you, and she fucking knifed me Billie... "
"Ok, Tre, I'll come over." I hang up.
God I am so gonna kill Skye when I get my hands on her.
*Skye's P.O.V*
Oops. I watch Billie Joe (I am not going to call him Dad) get out the car. He looks so angry. I wonder if I could piss him off even further...
I write a note for them; 'Gone to the loo' it says.
I hobble upstairs. Billie Joe and Tre are still talking outside. They are so stupid. Did they really think that even if I lame myself I can't get around that, I am prepared.
I find Tre's shirt draw and pinch the worst looking one, find a pair of scissors and cut two long strips out the back. I wrap those strips (one on each ankle) around tightly, and wait a few minutes. It will give me some speed, the basic principal of this shirt cutting exercise was to stop some of the blood flowing in and out of my feet, therefore giving me a bit more speed and agility than I had before.
I hear Billie Joe and Tre come in, it's time to make a move. I open the window (I'm on the second floor) climb up, and balance on the windowsill. I hear Billie Joe find my note, I know he found it 'cause I hear this "Skye, hurry up in there, Tre need's to go." Echo throughout the house.
I jump.
When I land, pain shoots through my ankles, but it's less pain than if I hadn't bound my ankles.
Bugger. Just realised, The window I jumped out of was the window above the sitting room. Billie Joe is still looking at my note, but Tre sees me.
I grin, show him my penknife, before setting off at a weird, limping jog.
It's faster than Billie Joe, and Tre's running however, (and stronger, I don't think they figured that I used to be a cross-country champion in my old school) and by taking a few side-routes, I'm able to lose them. I know my own way back. But just when I get in sight of Billie Joe's/my house, my head seems to explode, and everything goes black.
I pull the plug. Sorry, that sound's really dramatic, like I've just turned someone's life support machine off... Nah.
Right, that's it. I've unplugged the phone. How the fuck am I supposed to think when people keep phoning you up, trying to sell double glazing, mobile phones, garden furniture?
I pick up Skye 's guitar again (I think she calls it Death) and try to figure out some more riff's for a song. (Reason's for using Skye's guitar, not mine; 1) One of my strings snapped so I need to get a replacement. 2) It's black. 3) I wanted to try it out.)
*Normal P.O.V*
*At school*
"I can't get in touch with Mr. Armstrong, Sir." The receptionist told the headmaster.
"Well, try one of his friend's. Ummm... Try this 'Tre' person." The headmaster replied, not taking his eyes away from the window where you could clearly see Skye crouching by the fence, knife in hand.
"Ok." The receptionist dialled the number.
*Five minutes later*
Skye got into the back seat of Tre's car without any fuss, and sat there quivering. Tre got in and started to drive. For the journey, Skye was quiet enough, when they got to Tre's house, however, she hobbled in as quick as she could, and sat on his sofa, so that, when he came in, she was crouched on the corner of his sofa, staring at him with her large, black eyes.
Keeping his eyes on hers he sat down at the other end of the sofa.
Neither moved and neither blinked, it was like a staring contest of the worst kind.
Skye blinked.
"Ha ha! You blinked!" Tre shouted, pointing at Skye and laughing; not the smartest thing in the world.
Like a flash, the silver blade struck again, this time finding it's way into the back of Tre's hand. Tre screamed like a little girl and reached for the phone.
*Billie Joe's P.O.V*
There, practice all done. Now, to re-plug the phone.
I put the plug back, turn to walk away, and the phone rings. I walk back and pick up.
"Hello?"
"Billie -"
"Tre?"
"Yes, fucktard, anyway, you'd better get over here quick. Your kid got sent home from school with me 'cause they couldn't get hold of you, and she fucking knifed me Billie... "
"Ok, Tre, I'll come over." I hang up.
God I am so gonna kill Skye when I get my hands on her.
*Skye's P.O.V*
Oops. I watch Billie Joe (I am not going to call him Dad) get out the car. He looks so angry. I wonder if I could piss him off even further...
I write a note for them; 'Gone to the loo' it says.
I hobble upstairs. Billie Joe and Tre are still talking outside. They are so stupid. Did they really think that even if I lame myself I can't get around that, I am prepared.
I find Tre's shirt draw and pinch the worst looking one, find a pair of scissors and cut two long strips out the back. I wrap those strips (one on each ankle) around tightly, and wait a few minutes. It will give me some speed, the basic principal of this shirt cutting exercise was to stop some of the blood flowing in and out of my feet, therefore giving me a bit more speed and agility than I had before.
I hear Billie Joe and Tre come in, it's time to make a move. I open the window (I'm on the second floor) climb up, and balance on the windowsill. I hear Billie Joe find my note, I know he found it 'cause I hear this "Skye, hurry up in there, Tre need's to go." Echo throughout the house.
I jump.
When I land, pain shoots through my ankles, but it's less pain than if I hadn't bound my ankles.
Bugger. Just realised, The window I jumped out of was the window above the sitting room. Billie Joe is still looking at my note, but Tre sees me.
I grin, show him my penknife, before setting off at a weird, limping jog.
It's faster than Billie Joe, and Tre's running however, (and stronger, I don't think they figured that I used to be a cross-country champion in my old school) and by taking a few side-routes, I'm able to lose them. I know my own way back. But just when I get in sight of Billie Joe's/my house, my head seems to explode, and everything goes black.
