Fight for your Right, chapter 4
I walked back to my house, trying to forget everything. Trying to forget Billie, Mike, Tiffany, aunt Lyndi, PJ, everything. Even the stuff that didn't matter, just needed to disappear. I grabbed the phone and called aunt Lyndi, I knew she was at school, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to call the school and tell them I was sick.
The phone rang for a long time, I was just waiting for the answering machine, I knew she wouldn't answer.
"Hello?"
I was kind of surprised, "Hey aunt Lyndi, it's Ma-"
"Oh hey, whats up?"
I stopped for a moment, "Nothin... Much.."
"Oh my god I have got to tell you something, ok?"
"Ok..."
"Quit talking to yourself and leave a message."
'At the tone, record your message. To end press star, or just hang up. '
"Not helping," I mumbled while the lady was talking, then it beeped, queuing for the message.
"Hey, it's May, call me when you get a chance, I'm at home. Talk to ya later."
I hung up and looked out the window where the ambulance had arrived. They had put him on a stretcher, and lifted him in. "He's alive, but for some reason I don't care anymore," I mumbled to myself. It was true, I didn't care. I wasn't going to go kill him or anything, but if he would have died right there, I could have cared less.
People say 'hate' is a strong word. But what they don't understand, is that it's suppose to be. Hate means hate, entirely. There's no grey areas, like despise. If you despise something, you could be talking about a food or such. You could despise seeing something, or you don't mind seeing it, you just don't want to touch it. I don't know, but if you hate something, you just hate it.
And right now, I hated Billie Joe.
I'm not sure what happened during that conversation on the street. I can't stand that he can sit there and bully me, and beat the crap out of me, but then act like I can just forget about it and pretend it was a joke. Like that him sitting on the ground with a bullet hole in his shoulder should force me to pity him, and forget everything.
Just then the phone rang. I looked at the clock. 9:19, I'd be on my way to third.
"Hello?" I said without much enthusiasm.
"Hi May, are you sick?"
I stopped for a minute, "Mentally... Yes. Yeah, I'm taking a day off."
"Mel, this isn't a job, you can't just take a sick day and pretend to be sick. Well, you can only do that so many times in one week..."
I just laughed, "You would know?"
There was a pause, and I could tell she was smiling, "Don't question my work ethics lady, anyways, you're coming to school tomorrow right?"
"Depends, can I die today?"
"What happened," she said sounding serious.
"It's a long story..."
"Ms. Hartleys here," she said speaking of her assistant, "I'm coming over, wait, is your mother there?"
"Uhh, no."
"Thank god, talk to you later." Then she hung up.
Aunt Lyndi was always the greatest aunt ever. She seemed to always know when you needed her most, and was always there. She was like my a sister of my own, but older. You couldn't say she was irresponsible, because she had a house, a job, a car, and spare cash. And if you dare say that she couldn't afford a washer and dryer for her clothes, she had the perfect excuse. It was cheaper to spend five dollars every two weeks to take her clothes to the laundry mat, then it was to spend a grand or so on a washer and dryer and some extra dollars on the water bill.
I plopped down on the couch and turned the tv on. I didn't really intend to watch anything, but it was out of habit. I laid there on the couch, looking at the ceiling. I remembered when I was at the dentist office and they told you to just count all the little holes on the ceiling. So, trying to get my mind off things, I started counting. I have no idea what I was counting, but I was looking around at stuff and when I spotted something I would add a number.
Then the doorbell rang.
"Who is it, then I'll tell you if I'm here or not," I yelled. I wasn't gonna get up.
I heard the door open and my aunt walked around to the couch and sat next to me. She looked at me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, how's it?"
I looked up at her, and my eyes started to water. She put her arms around me and gave me a hug. I just sat there, crying.
"Well, did you kill him? Just wondering, thats one of the only reasons I can think of that could be bothering you this much. And if you did I will be more then willing to take the blame. I know its hard killing somebody May."
I just laughed, "No, I didn't kill him." I pulled my knees up to my chin and started messing with my shoelaces. "Wait, how would you know its hard killing somebody?"
She looked at me confused, then remembered her comment. "Well, because I had to kill a parrot once, and that was very difficult for me..."
I gasped, "I remember! Mom told me about Roxanne! How dare you kill her! That was moms bird!"
"Yeah well, that bird needed to die. You have no idea what trouble that bird got me into."
"What'd it do?" I said becoming interested.
She stuck her feet up onto the coffee table, "Well, first off, you know that song 'Roxanne' by god only knows what band? Well, it knew every word to that song, seeing as that was its name. And that got really annoying."
"It didn't get you in trouble though."
"I know I know, I'm getting to that part," she said laughing. "But one day, your mother made me really mad. It had been a bad day, and anything she did, or anyone did for that matter, just really ticked me off."
"Ok yeah, I can understand that," I said, hanging onto every word.
"Ok, now back then, me and your mother shared a room. Her bed was on one side, and mine was on the other. Therefore, the stupid bird was in my room too." I just laughed, I knew she had hated Roxanne, I just didn't know why. "But one day, I was really mad at her. And I walked into our room, and said 'I wish Lisa would just die'. Now, you know I was really in a bad mood that day. I really didn't mean it, it just kinda blurted out." She said smiling. Now I was in a fit of laughter.
"You mean the bird told on you?!" I said inbetween laughs.
"Well, you see, since the bird was Lisa's, of course, it favored Lisa. And me and her didn't get along back then, so the bird and I didn't get along either. So as soon as she walked in, the bird just blurts out 'I wish Lisa would die'! First she was all confused and offended. But then she said, 'Lyndi wishes Lisa would just die'."
I was still laughing so hard I could barely breath. "So you shoved its head in the toilet and gave it a lethal swirly?!"
She started laughing, "Your mom told you that part to?"
"Of course she did! You took it, ran into the bathroom, and shoved its head in the toilet and flushed! What were you thinking?!"
She was still laughing, "Hey, it had been a bad day, and we did it to our fish all the time when they died. So I figured it would work this time too! Besides, I was ten!"
"That would have made mom 12, and you were killing her pets."
She just sighed, "Well, like I said, the bird deserved it."
"I guess," I mumbled looking back at the tv, where Dr. Phil was doing his daily preach.
"Alright, I gotta get back to work. But no before I find out whats up with you. What happened between you and Billie?"
I explained to her about the group of people that thought he was Thomas, but wasn't, and how they shot him and I helped him. And about how we started arguing, then he wanted help up, as if nothing had ever happened.
She just sat there in shock. "Wow May. Thats messed up."
"Don't remind me."
"So now I'm wondering, does he want to be your friend and trying to get the easy way out, by pretending he did all along? Was he stoned? Or did he just think that because he was crippled that none of that should matter?" she said naming them off from her fingers.
I just sighed, "All of the above maybe? I don't know, but right now, even looking at him is on the bottom of my list."
"It's amazing how your thoughts can change just from a moment in time," she mumbled, turning off the tv to help her think. "Alright, I take it you want revenge?"
I looked at her slightly confused, it didn't matter to her did it? I mean, she wouldn't help me seek revenge on an old friend would she? "Indeed."
"Alright, him, being a student of mine, I can't have much to do with it. But I know someone who can," she said going through her cell phone.
"Lyndi Adamson, you are not giving me the number of someone that can help me get revenge on Billie Joe Armstrong are you?"
She looked at me from the corner of her eye, "Not necessarily, but I am planning on giving you the number of someone who hates him just as much, and would be more then happy to help," she said getting me a pen and paper. "Ashley Varner, 1-795-442-3897. A friend of mines daughter."
"Wait, Ashley Varner? As in, one of Billie's ex-girlfriends, Ashley Varner?" I said laughing and looking at the scrap of paper.
She was already by the door, "What? You want two?" she said raising an eyebrow.
"You are the coolest aunt ever."
She just laughed, "She's at school now, but call afterward. And tell me how it goes."
The phone rang for a long time, I was just waiting for the answering machine, I knew she wouldn't answer.
"Hello?"
I was kind of surprised, "Hey aunt Lyndi, it's Ma-"
"Oh hey, whats up?"
I stopped for a moment, "Nothin... Much.."
"Oh my god I have got to tell you something, ok?"
"Ok..."
"Quit talking to yourself and leave a message."
'At the tone, record your message. To end press star, or just hang up. '
"Not helping," I mumbled while the lady was talking, then it beeped, queuing for the message.
"Hey, it's May, call me when you get a chance, I'm at home. Talk to ya later."
I hung up and looked out the window where the ambulance had arrived. They had put him on a stretcher, and lifted him in. "He's alive, but for some reason I don't care anymore," I mumbled to myself. It was true, I didn't care. I wasn't going to go kill him or anything, but if he would have died right there, I could have cared less.
People say 'hate' is a strong word. But what they don't understand, is that it's suppose to be. Hate means hate, entirely. There's no grey areas, like despise. If you despise something, you could be talking about a food or such. You could despise seeing something, or you don't mind seeing it, you just don't want to touch it. I don't know, but if you hate something, you just hate it.
And right now, I hated Billie Joe.
I'm not sure what happened during that conversation on the street. I can't stand that he can sit there and bully me, and beat the crap out of me, but then act like I can just forget about it and pretend it was a joke. Like that him sitting on the ground with a bullet hole in his shoulder should force me to pity him, and forget everything.
Just then the phone rang. I looked at the clock. 9:19, I'd be on my way to third.
"Hello?" I said without much enthusiasm.
"Hi May, are you sick?"
I stopped for a minute, "Mentally... Yes. Yeah, I'm taking a day off."
"Mel, this isn't a job, you can't just take a sick day and pretend to be sick. Well, you can only do that so many times in one week..."
I just laughed, "You would know?"
There was a pause, and I could tell she was smiling, "Don't question my work ethics lady, anyways, you're coming to school tomorrow right?"
"Depends, can I die today?"
"What happened," she said sounding serious.
"It's a long story..."
"Ms. Hartleys here," she said speaking of her assistant, "I'm coming over, wait, is your mother there?"
"Uhh, no."
"Thank god, talk to you later." Then she hung up.
Aunt Lyndi was always the greatest aunt ever. She seemed to always know when you needed her most, and was always there. She was like my a sister of my own, but older. You couldn't say she was irresponsible, because she had a house, a job, a car, and spare cash. And if you dare say that she couldn't afford a washer and dryer for her clothes, she had the perfect excuse. It was cheaper to spend five dollars every two weeks to take her clothes to the laundry mat, then it was to spend a grand or so on a washer and dryer and some extra dollars on the water bill.
I plopped down on the couch and turned the tv on. I didn't really intend to watch anything, but it was out of habit. I laid there on the couch, looking at the ceiling. I remembered when I was at the dentist office and they told you to just count all the little holes on the ceiling. So, trying to get my mind off things, I started counting. I have no idea what I was counting, but I was looking around at stuff and when I spotted something I would add a number.
Then the doorbell rang.
"Who is it, then I'll tell you if I'm here or not," I yelled. I wasn't gonna get up.
I heard the door open and my aunt walked around to the couch and sat next to me. She looked at me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, how's it?"
I looked up at her, and my eyes started to water. She put her arms around me and gave me a hug. I just sat there, crying.
"Well, did you kill him? Just wondering, thats one of the only reasons I can think of that could be bothering you this much. And if you did I will be more then willing to take the blame. I know its hard killing somebody May."
I just laughed, "No, I didn't kill him." I pulled my knees up to my chin and started messing with my shoelaces. "Wait, how would you know its hard killing somebody?"
She looked at me confused, then remembered her comment. "Well, because I had to kill a parrot once, and that was very difficult for me..."
I gasped, "I remember! Mom told me about Roxanne! How dare you kill her! That was moms bird!"
"Yeah well, that bird needed to die. You have no idea what trouble that bird got me into."
"What'd it do?" I said becoming interested.
She stuck her feet up onto the coffee table, "Well, first off, you know that song 'Roxanne' by god only knows what band? Well, it knew every word to that song, seeing as that was its name. And that got really annoying."
"It didn't get you in trouble though."
"I know I know, I'm getting to that part," she said laughing. "But one day, your mother made me really mad. It had been a bad day, and anything she did, or anyone did for that matter, just really ticked me off."
"Ok yeah, I can understand that," I said, hanging onto every word.
"Ok, now back then, me and your mother shared a room. Her bed was on one side, and mine was on the other. Therefore, the stupid bird was in my room too." I just laughed, I knew she had hated Roxanne, I just didn't know why. "But one day, I was really mad at her. And I walked into our room, and said 'I wish Lisa would just die'. Now, you know I was really in a bad mood that day. I really didn't mean it, it just kinda blurted out." She said smiling. Now I was in a fit of laughter.
"You mean the bird told on you?!" I said inbetween laughs.
"Well, you see, since the bird was Lisa's, of course, it favored Lisa. And me and her didn't get along back then, so the bird and I didn't get along either. So as soon as she walked in, the bird just blurts out 'I wish Lisa would die'! First she was all confused and offended. But then she said, 'Lyndi wishes Lisa would just die'."
I was still laughing so hard I could barely breath. "So you shoved its head in the toilet and gave it a lethal swirly?!"
She started laughing, "Your mom told you that part to?"
"Of course she did! You took it, ran into the bathroom, and shoved its head in the toilet and flushed! What were you thinking?!"
She was still laughing, "Hey, it had been a bad day, and we did it to our fish all the time when they died. So I figured it would work this time too! Besides, I was ten!"
"That would have made mom 12, and you were killing her pets."
She just sighed, "Well, like I said, the bird deserved it."
"I guess," I mumbled looking back at the tv, where Dr. Phil was doing his daily preach.
"Alright, I gotta get back to work. But no before I find out whats up with you. What happened between you and Billie?"
I explained to her about the group of people that thought he was Thomas, but wasn't, and how they shot him and I helped him. And about how we started arguing, then he wanted help up, as if nothing had ever happened.
She just sat there in shock. "Wow May. Thats messed up."
"Don't remind me."
"So now I'm wondering, does he want to be your friend and trying to get the easy way out, by pretending he did all along? Was he stoned? Or did he just think that because he was crippled that none of that should matter?" she said naming them off from her fingers.
I just sighed, "All of the above maybe? I don't know, but right now, even looking at him is on the bottom of my list."
"It's amazing how your thoughts can change just from a moment in time," she mumbled, turning off the tv to help her think. "Alright, I take it you want revenge?"
I looked at her slightly confused, it didn't matter to her did it? I mean, she wouldn't help me seek revenge on an old friend would she? "Indeed."
"Alright, him, being a student of mine, I can't have much to do with it. But I know someone who can," she said going through her cell phone.
"Lyndi Adamson, you are not giving me the number of someone that can help me get revenge on Billie Joe Armstrong are you?"
She looked at me from the corner of her eye, "Not necessarily, but I am planning on giving you the number of someone who hates him just as much, and would be more then happy to help," she said getting me a pen and paper. "Ashley Varner, 1-795-442-3897. A friend of mines daughter."
"Wait, Ashley Varner? As in, one of Billie's ex-girlfriends, Ashley Varner?" I said laughing and looking at the scrap of paper.
She was already by the door, "What? You want two?" she said raising an eyebrow.
"You are the coolest aunt ever."
She just laughed, "She's at school now, but call afterward. And tell me how it goes."
