Bleeding Hearts, chapter 1
Hi. I'm Jan. Not the best name I know. But it is better than 'Little miss no parents' or 'the girl who lives in the dump'. Those are a couple of names I get called at school. I don't live in a dump. I live in an orphanage. But the idiot preps at school don't seem to notice the difference. Their stupid bleached blonde hair probably got in the way of their brains. They are so fucking air headed and I hate them all. But the other name I said is true... Well... half true. I do probably have one parent out there somewhere. Where that is I do not know. My mum raised me on her own. I loved her so much. We used to have fun together. But not anymore. When I was only four she was diagnosed with cancer and she died a month later. It was detected really late and there was nothing that the doctors could do to help her. All I have left to remember her by is her guitar. She loved to play it. My first memory is when I was one and she was sitting there playing it.
***
Jan was sitting on the coffee table in her house staring up at her mother adoringly. Her mum picked up her guitar and started playing random tunes. None of these made Jan want to dance of even just nod her head except one. Her mum laughed as Jan started head banging. She was only one. "Do you like this song?" She asked her daughter.
Jan nodded and a huge grin spread across her face.
Her mum nodded. "Good. I like this song to. It's called 'Longview'."
Jan smiled again as her mum started singing. "I can't sing very well. Do you want to hear some more songs like this?"
A smiled appeared on Jan's face.
Her mum laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." She walked over to the CD player and put on the newly released album called 'Dookie'.
That night was spent sitting around and Jan's mum told her all about this band called Green Day and about the members and basically everything she knew about them.
Jan loved the music. There was something about it that made her want to dance and sing and be happy but cry and pull her hair out all at the same time. She was only one but she was thinking about these songs with such emotion that she had never felt before.
***
Any way. I have been listening to Green Day ever since. They seem to stir such great memories within me. When I talk about Billie Joe, Mike or Tre it is as if I know them personally because I have grown up with them in my life. I went to my first concert when I was three. I remember Billie Joe looking down at me. He gave me a raspberry and it made me giggle so much. But when I came to the orphanage they didn't let me go to anymore. The last thing my mum did with me before she died was take me to another concert. She knew she was dying and she did this one last thing for me. She took me there. It was the best night of my life. The next day her health decreased massively. No one had expected her to die so soon. It was tough. To be a four year old trying to know what to do when you find you mother unconscious in bed.
I called an ambulance and they rushed her into hospital. When she woke up she forced the doctors to take her home. She was always a fighter and no matter how much they advised her against it she went all the same. In the end she actually got out of bed put on her eyeliner and converse and she drove us home. I think watching that was what gives me such a strong personality. I watched a woman on the brink of death pull herself out of the gutter and stand up for what she believed in. The doctors tried to stop her but she ignored them. When we got home we sat on her bed together. She got out her guitar and started playing. That night she showed me how to play 'Longview'. She wanted my last memory of her to be the same as my first. So that I always remembered her like she was when she was strong. And it worked. We sat for hours on her bed. Talking about what I was to do when she was gone and how I was to cope. All the time she was playing 'Longview' over and over. Now that I know the meaning of that song I know it wasn't the best one to play to a four year old but I didn't understand at the time. As that night went on she grew weaker and weaker. She could barely talk anymore. I didn't cry at all when it was happening. Neither did she. I didn't leave her side that night apart from one time. I went to get her a drink and when I came back into the room she was speaking to someone on the phone. She quickly hung up when she saw me. I didn't ask who it was. I just sat back down next to her. Eventually she lay down on her bed. All her band posters stared down at her. The only sign of life she was showing was her fingers slowly moving over her guitar and playing that song. Just as she was about to go she started singing. "Bite my lip and close my eyes. Take me away to paradise... " In the song those words mean something totally different to the message she was trying to put across to me.
"Jan?" I walked over to her. "This is I. A fighting spirit. Some one who didn't give up and never intends to do so. I will watch over you for the rest of your life. No one can stop you from reaching your full potential. I love you Jan. And I want you to know that I will always be with you. I will be with you on your first day of school. I will be with you when you make your first best friend. I will be with you when you have your first kiss. I will be with you when you shed your first tears after breaking up with a boy. I will be with you when you get into your first fight. I will be with you when you grow up. I will be with you as you walk down the isle and get married. I will be with you. You may not see me but never give up. If you do then I want you to know that I will be with you through all you sorrow and pain and try to guide you through it." Her eyes closed gently. Her fingers were still playing. Her breathing became more and more shallow. For about a minuet I couldn't see her chest move up and down and after that her fingers slowly stopped. I shed my first tear that evening.
"You're with me now." I told myself. I looked down at her. She just looked as if she was sleeping. She looked like she always had. She looked strong and healthy and I was waiting for her to wake up but I knew that she wouldn't. "You are with me. You told me you would be. And you would never lie to me. You never have and never will." I remembered what she had told me to do. I walked around the room. I took all of her posters down and tied them each up with an elastic band. I went to her draw and took out a note, which was addressed to me. But she told me I wasn't allowed to open it until my thirteenth birthday. I grabbed a bag from her wardrobe and went to my room to put all my clothes in it. I then closed it up and walked back to her room. I looked around. She had told me not to touch anything but I saw her eyeliner sitting there. I couldn't help but pick it up and put some on. I liked the look of it. It went well with my deep brown hair and blue eyes. I put that in my bag to. I picked up her guitar and sat it by the front door along with my bag and all the posters. I was only four but I knew what I was doing. I was very smart for my age. I picked up the phone. I dialled 911 and asked for an ambulance. They sent one over. They took her body away and I sat in the front of the ambulance with all my stuff. The man who was driving was very kind. I still talk to him sometimes. He had a son who was my age. He is one of my only and best friends at school now.
When I got to the hospital they called the orphanage and I have lived there ever since. No one wanted me. I was some four year old 'punk' who's mum died and left her with nothing except a guitar and some posters of Green Day, The Clash, Ramones, Nirvana, Guns 'n' Roses and lots of other classic punk and rock and bands. I did as she said. I didn't open that letter. I placed it in my desk at the orphanage and no matter how tempted to open it I was I didn't. I told myself that she was with me and was looking over me like she said she would be and stopped my self. "My mum is with me. Where ever I go she is there."
***
Jan was sitting on the coffee table in her house staring up at her mother adoringly. Her mum picked up her guitar and started playing random tunes. None of these made Jan want to dance of even just nod her head except one. Her mum laughed as Jan started head banging. She was only one. "Do you like this song?" She asked her daughter.
Jan nodded and a huge grin spread across her face.
Her mum nodded. "Good. I like this song to. It's called 'Longview'."
Jan smiled again as her mum started singing. "I can't sing very well. Do you want to hear some more songs like this?"
A smiled appeared on Jan's face.
Her mum laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." She walked over to the CD player and put on the newly released album called 'Dookie'.
That night was spent sitting around and Jan's mum told her all about this band called Green Day and about the members and basically everything she knew about them.
Jan loved the music. There was something about it that made her want to dance and sing and be happy but cry and pull her hair out all at the same time. She was only one but she was thinking about these songs with such emotion that she had never felt before.
***
Any way. I have been listening to Green Day ever since. They seem to stir such great memories within me. When I talk about Billie Joe, Mike or Tre it is as if I know them personally because I have grown up with them in my life. I went to my first concert when I was three. I remember Billie Joe looking down at me. He gave me a raspberry and it made me giggle so much. But when I came to the orphanage they didn't let me go to anymore. The last thing my mum did with me before she died was take me to another concert. She knew she was dying and she did this one last thing for me. She took me there. It was the best night of my life. The next day her health decreased massively. No one had expected her to die so soon. It was tough. To be a four year old trying to know what to do when you find you mother unconscious in bed.
I called an ambulance and they rushed her into hospital. When she woke up she forced the doctors to take her home. She was always a fighter and no matter how much they advised her against it she went all the same. In the end she actually got out of bed put on her eyeliner and converse and she drove us home. I think watching that was what gives me such a strong personality. I watched a woman on the brink of death pull herself out of the gutter and stand up for what she believed in. The doctors tried to stop her but she ignored them. When we got home we sat on her bed together. She got out her guitar and started playing. That night she showed me how to play 'Longview'. She wanted my last memory of her to be the same as my first. So that I always remembered her like she was when she was strong. And it worked. We sat for hours on her bed. Talking about what I was to do when she was gone and how I was to cope. All the time she was playing 'Longview' over and over. Now that I know the meaning of that song I know it wasn't the best one to play to a four year old but I didn't understand at the time. As that night went on she grew weaker and weaker. She could barely talk anymore. I didn't cry at all when it was happening. Neither did she. I didn't leave her side that night apart from one time. I went to get her a drink and when I came back into the room she was speaking to someone on the phone. She quickly hung up when she saw me. I didn't ask who it was. I just sat back down next to her. Eventually she lay down on her bed. All her band posters stared down at her. The only sign of life she was showing was her fingers slowly moving over her guitar and playing that song. Just as she was about to go she started singing. "Bite my lip and close my eyes. Take me away to paradise... " In the song those words mean something totally different to the message she was trying to put across to me.
"Jan?" I walked over to her. "This is I. A fighting spirit. Some one who didn't give up and never intends to do so. I will watch over you for the rest of your life. No one can stop you from reaching your full potential. I love you Jan. And I want you to know that I will always be with you. I will be with you on your first day of school. I will be with you when you make your first best friend. I will be with you when you have your first kiss. I will be with you when you shed your first tears after breaking up with a boy. I will be with you when you get into your first fight. I will be with you when you grow up. I will be with you as you walk down the isle and get married. I will be with you. You may not see me but never give up. If you do then I want you to know that I will be with you through all you sorrow and pain and try to guide you through it." Her eyes closed gently. Her fingers were still playing. Her breathing became more and more shallow. For about a minuet I couldn't see her chest move up and down and after that her fingers slowly stopped. I shed my first tear that evening.
"You're with me now." I told myself. I looked down at her. She just looked as if she was sleeping. She looked like she always had. She looked strong and healthy and I was waiting for her to wake up but I knew that she wouldn't. "You are with me. You told me you would be. And you would never lie to me. You never have and never will." I remembered what she had told me to do. I walked around the room. I took all of her posters down and tied them each up with an elastic band. I went to her draw and took out a note, which was addressed to me. But she told me I wasn't allowed to open it until my thirteenth birthday. I grabbed a bag from her wardrobe and went to my room to put all my clothes in it. I then closed it up and walked back to her room. I looked around. She had told me not to touch anything but I saw her eyeliner sitting there. I couldn't help but pick it up and put some on. I liked the look of it. It went well with my deep brown hair and blue eyes. I put that in my bag to. I picked up her guitar and sat it by the front door along with my bag and all the posters. I was only four but I knew what I was doing. I was very smart for my age. I picked up the phone. I dialled 911 and asked for an ambulance. They sent one over. They took her body away and I sat in the front of the ambulance with all my stuff. The man who was driving was very kind. I still talk to him sometimes. He had a son who was my age. He is one of my only and best friends at school now.
When I got to the hospital they called the orphanage and I have lived there ever since. No one wanted me. I was some four year old 'punk' who's mum died and left her with nothing except a guitar and some posters of Green Day, The Clash, Ramones, Nirvana, Guns 'n' Roses and lots of other classic punk and rock and bands. I did as she said. I didn't open that letter. I placed it in my desk at the orphanage and no matter how tempted to open it I was I didn't. I told myself that she was with me and was looking over me like she said she would be and stopped my self. "My mum is with me. Where ever I go she is there."
Page 1/19 | Next
