Why the hell am I in Billie Joe's body?, chapter 1
*Sams POV*
I sat there, tears staining my face. " I was only kidding" I whispered. "But you never have time to listen anymore"
I felt bad, real bad. It seemed the whole world was against me. I sat there staring at my door, sitting on my bed with my back against the wall. I heard her mumbling under her breath.
"Fucking kid never does anything"
I swallowed hard. There was a loud bang and she was suddenly gone.
"Whatever" I mumbled, wiping the tears under my eyes.
"I don't need you anyway"
I sat there with my head against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Billie Joe looked down at me with Mike and Tre to his left and right. The poster looked at me with sad eyes.
"Shut up" I said narrowing my eyes. "I don't need you either"
I looked down at my feet and felt my heart sink. Well that was a flat out lie. Green Day was the only thing that kept me from suicide.
I sat up rolling my eyes and headed for the light switch. I flipped it off and dragged myself over to my bed. I sat there in the darkness, I liked it that way, I felt, non existent. My guitar was up against the wall, it seemed to sound like it was saying "Come on, tell me about it"
"Ok, ok" I said grabbing my guitar.
I'm not really crazy, or so they say, but I'm known to just randomly talk to objects. "Hmm" I sighed thinking of a song to play. Then it hit me. I thought of one. My eyes burned as I strummed my only friend.
"Sitting on the hood of a camero, watching shooting stars across the earth,"
I looked over at my wall, a giant collage of Green Day posters... How sad. I looked at a picture of Billie Joe holding Adrienne in his arms. They were truly in love.
"There goes my Minnesota girl.." I stopped playing and looked at the picture.
"Wow" I thought. I looked down at my guitar. Pitiful. It was black and I hadn't cleaned it in a while. It looked just as worn out as I was about everything. I sighed, setting my guitar back up against the wall and my pick in my pocket.
Just then I heard someone rustling around with the lock on the door.
"Grreat" I said to myself "The Mistress has arrived"
***
I lay there in bed waking up after an hour or so to more rustling around in the dark. I looked over at my clock. 11:39.
"Fuck" I heard someone whisper. Only it wasn't my mom, it was a man's voice.
"Lets just take the fucking shit and get on!"
I sat up in bed, listening.
"We still haven't checked that back room over there though"
I tiptoed over to my slightly cracked open door. Two men were standing there holding some of my and my mom's belongings.
"Someone's probably in there dumbfuck!" one said to the other. My eyes widened, there were hardcore robbers in my fucking house! My mouth dropped as I backed away from the door.
"So?" The other one said, pulling a gun from his pocket.
I made an attempt to dive out of the window, lifting it up, but it was too late.
I sat there, tears staining my face. " I was only kidding" I whispered. "But you never have time to listen anymore"
I felt bad, real bad. It seemed the whole world was against me. I sat there staring at my door, sitting on my bed with my back against the wall. I heard her mumbling under her breath.
"Fucking kid never does anything"
I swallowed hard. There was a loud bang and she was suddenly gone.
"Whatever" I mumbled, wiping the tears under my eyes.
"I don't need you anyway"
I sat there with my head against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Billie Joe looked down at me with Mike and Tre to his left and right. The poster looked at me with sad eyes.
"Shut up" I said narrowing my eyes. "I don't need you either"
I looked down at my feet and felt my heart sink. Well that was a flat out lie. Green Day was the only thing that kept me from suicide.
I sat up rolling my eyes and headed for the light switch. I flipped it off and dragged myself over to my bed. I sat there in the darkness, I liked it that way, I felt, non existent. My guitar was up against the wall, it seemed to sound like it was saying "Come on, tell me about it"
"Ok, ok" I said grabbing my guitar.
I'm not really crazy, or so they say, but I'm known to just randomly talk to objects. "Hmm" I sighed thinking of a song to play. Then it hit me. I thought of one. My eyes burned as I strummed my only friend.
"Sitting on the hood of a camero, watching shooting stars across the earth,"
I looked over at my wall, a giant collage of Green Day posters... How sad. I looked at a picture of Billie Joe holding Adrienne in his arms. They were truly in love.
"There goes my Minnesota girl.." I stopped playing and looked at the picture.
"Wow" I thought. I looked down at my guitar. Pitiful. It was black and I hadn't cleaned it in a while. It looked just as worn out as I was about everything. I sighed, setting my guitar back up against the wall and my pick in my pocket.
Just then I heard someone rustling around with the lock on the door.
"Grreat" I said to myself "The Mistress has arrived"
***
I lay there in bed waking up after an hour or so to more rustling around in the dark. I looked over at my clock. 11:39.
"Fuck" I heard someone whisper. Only it wasn't my mom, it was a man's voice.
"Lets just take the fucking shit and get on!"
I sat up in bed, listening.
"We still haven't checked that back room over there though"
I tiptoed over to my slightly cracked open door. Two men were standing there holding some of my and my mom's belongings.
"Someone's probably in there dumbfuck!" one said to the other. My eyes widened, there were hardcore robbers in my fucking house! My mouth dropped as I backed away from the door.
"So?" The other one said, pulling a gun from his pocket.
I made an attempt to dive out of the window, lifting it up, but it was too late.
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