Whatshername?, chapter 2
A few months earlier
Adie's P.O.V. 1:05am
"For fucks sake, Billie!" I shook my head as my husband stumbled and collapsed onto the couch. His green eyes emphasizing the lack of colour in his skin. One of the sleeves of his shirt was torn and the rest of the shirt reeked of either beer, smoke or something else I'd rather not think about. He had a bottle of beer locked in his hand. He wouldn't let go of it, like it was some sort of precious growth that he had to guard. Then, like some sort of dog, he turned his head as he heard his name, trying to focus on my face.
Billie's P.O.V.
Everything was such a fucking mess, and I mean everything. I didn't understand. Why was she shouting? Was she shouting at me? It hurt my head, it felt like my brain was swelling. As she said my name I looked up at her. She was standing over me . . . like some sort of angel, a guardian angel. Looking after me, no matter what I do. She was so beautiful. You could see that just by looking in her eyes . . . and this beautiful creature was mine, my wife, mine . . .
Adie's P.O.V.
"Mine," he leered up at me. He pulled me towards him and whispered drunkenly in my ear, "you're all . . . mine." His warm breath swept over my face. It was like being washed in beer. I could smell it, taste it and it even made my eyes sting. I pushed him away. "You're drunk . . . again," I muttered under my own breath.
"That's right, babe." He was clearly unaware of how loud he was speaking, "I'm hammered!" he shouted, waving the bottle around as he spoke.
"Billie, you'll wake the boys," I hissed. He ignored my warning and instead responded loudly with, "Wanna nail me?" He giggled childishly at his own joke.
I shook my head, disgusted. "I hope you're comfortable, cos this is where you'll be sleeping tonight." I turned, put out the light and left the room. As I was making my way up the stairs I heard him: "Mine, mine, mine . . . nail me . . . ha, that's pretty funny . . . "
As I walked past Joey and Jakob's room, I looked through a crack in the door.
"Mommy?" came a voice from the darkness. As I pushed the door open slightly, light flooding in, illuminating the face of my youngest son.
"Jakob? Sweetie, you should be asleep."
"Where's Daddy?"
"He's asleep," I said, " . . . downstairs" I added, walking into the room and crouching down next to the top of his bed.
"Why?" (His new found favourite word) He paused. "Did you have an argument?"
"No . . ." I lied, trying to soothe him, twirling his hair with my fingers, "Daddy's not feeling very well again, so in the morning remember to be very quiet, okay? Because his head hurts and he can't get better if his head hurts, can he? Alright sweetheart?"
There was an uncomfortable pause.
"Jakob?"
"Okay, but . . . Daddy's been getting ill a lot . . . maybe he should see a doctor?"
I smiled. "I'll talk to him. Now go to sleep, it's very late."
"Night-night, Mommy," he yawned.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," I whispered, kissing him on the nose.
Take away the sensation inside
Bittersweet migraine in my head
It's like a throbbing toothache of the mind
I can't take this feeling anymore
Drain the pressure from the swelling
This sensation's overwhelming
Give me a long kiss goodnight
And everything will be alright
Tell me that I won't feel a thing
Give me novacaine
Out of body and out of mind
Kiss the demons out of my dreams
I get the funny feeling that's alright
Jimmy says it's better than here
I'll tell you why . . .
Drain the pressure from the swelling
This sensation's overwhelming
Give me a long kiss goodnight
And everything will be alright
Tell me Jimmy I won't feel a thing
So give me novacaine
Adie's P.O.V. 1:05am
"For fucks sake, Billie!" I shook my head as my husband stumbled and collapsed onto the couch. His green eyes emphasizing the lack of colour in his skin. One of the sleeves of his shirt was torn and the rest of the shirt reeked of either beer, smoke or something else I'd rather not think about. He had a bottle of beer locked in his hand. He wouldn't let go of it, like it was some sort of precious growth that he had to guard. Then, like some sort of dog, he turned his head as he heard his name, trying to focus on my face.
Billie's P.O.V.
Everything was such a fucking mess, and I mean everything. I didn't understand. Why was she shouting? Was she shouting at me? It hurt my head, it felt like my brain was swelling. As she said my name I looked up at her. She was standing over me . . . like some sort of angel, a guardian angel. Looking after me, no matter what I do. She was so beautiful. You could see that just by looking in her eyes . . . and this beautiful creature was mine, my wife, mine . . .
Adie's P.O.V.
"Mine," he leered up at me. He pulled me towards him and whispered drunkenly in my ear, "you're all . . . mine." His warm breath swept over my face. It was like being washed in beer. I could smell it, taste it and it even made my eyes sting. I pushed him away. "You're drunk . . . again," I muttered under my own breath.
"That's right, babe." He was clearly unaware of how loud he was speaking, "I'm hammered!" he shouted, waving the bottle around as he spoke.
"Billie, you'll wake the boys," I hissed. He ignored my warning and instead responded loudly with, "Wanna nail me?" He giggled childishly at his own joke.
I shook my head, disgusted. "I hope you're comfortable, cos this is where you'll be sleeping tonight." I turned, put out the light and left the room. As I was making my way up the stairs I heard him: "Mine, mine, mine . . . nail me . . . ha, that's pretty funny . . . "
As I walked past Joey and Jakob's room, I looked through a crack in the door.
"Mommy?" came a voice from the darkness. As I pushed the door open slightly, light flooding in, illuminating the face of my youngest son.
"Jakob? Sweetie, you should be asleep."
"Where's Daddy?"
"He's asleep," I said, " . . . downstairs" I added, walking into the room and crouching down next to the top of his bed.
"Why?" (His new found favourite word) He paused. "Did you have an argument?"
"No . . ." I lied, trying to soothe him, twirling his hair with my fingers, "Daddy's not feeling very well again, so in the morning remember to be very quiet, okay? Because his head hurts and he can't get better if his head hurts, can he? Alright sweetheart?"
There was an uncomfortable pause.
"Jakob?"
"Okay, but . . . Daddy's been getting ill a lot . . . maybe he should see a doctor?"
I smiled. "I'll talk to him. Now go to sleep, it's very late."
"Night-night, Mommy," he yawned.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," I whispered, kissing him on the nose.
Take away the sensation inside
Bittersweet migraine in my head
It's like a throbbing toothache of the mind
I can't take this feeling anymore
Drain the pressure from the swelling
This sensation's overwhelming
Give me a long kiss goodnight
And everything will be alright
Tell me that I won't feel a thing
Give me novacaine
Out of body and out of mind
Kiss the demons out of my dreams
I get the funny feeling that's alright
Jimmy says it's better than here
I'll tell you why . . .
Drain the pressure from the swelling
This sensation's overwhelming
Give me a long kiss goodnight
And everything will be alright
Tell me Jimmy I won't feel a thing
So give me novacaine
