Suffer, but dont forget., chapter 1
She lay awake on her single mattress in the dank New York apartment building. There was a kitchen and two bedrooms, she had one and her mother and her latest boyfriend, Michael, shared the other. It was early morning and still dark outside, she hadn't slept all night. She could never sleep after she heard her mother have sex. Her agonised gasps and Michaels shouting for her to push harder disturbed her beyond belief. Although she was used to it by now, it always had the same effect and night after night she would stare into the deep green eyes of Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day (who's posters were plastered all over her walls and ceiling) as though trying to draw comfort in them. Sometimes it helped her to block out the rhythmic thumping on the walls or the bed in the next room.
Her name was Sibhael, an Irish name. Her father had chosen it. It had been the name of his great grandmother who had immigrated to America from Ireland during the famine. Sibhael was mildly pretty at a first glance but on closer inspection she was shocking in her beauty. She had long copper hair that fell around her face and framed it, a small chiselled nose that was slightly flat at the tip, she had slightly crooked teeth but they seemed to fit somehow and startling blue eyes. Despite all of this she had very low self esteem which came of being reminded daily of her ugliness by her mother.
She could hear her mother moving around in the kitchen this was always followed by her screaming for Sibhael to start her chores. Sibhael had left school when she was 16 to work harder on her band, 'A Different Love' (of which she was the drummer) and her mother seemed to have taken this as a personal invitation to make her do all the housework. She waited for it, flinching at the slightest sound in anticipation. "Sibhael!" It arrived right on queue making her jump "Get your lazy ass down here!" her mother screeched. Sibhael sighed deeply and wrenched herself off the mattress. She looked down at herself. She was wearing the same clothes from the night before, her baggy three quarter length jeans covered in Green Day badges, stripy red and black socks, cons and a tight black t-shirt with a print of the Dookie album cover on the front.
She grabbed her black Sex Pistols hoodie, through it over her head, pulled a brush through her hair and dragged herself across the hall to the kitchen. She was in no mood for her mother or her chores. "Yes, your majesty?" she said taking a low bow.
"Don't you take that tone with me, you cheeky ungrateful bitch!" her mother shouted angrily.
"Oh ok and what, may I ask, do I have to be thankful for?" she asked feigning surprise.
"I don't need to put up with this, you ugly little fucker!" her mother shot at her, her face was a very dark shade of maroon.
Sibhael found this highly amusing and decided to press her further. "Oh! I'm the fucker now, am I? Didn't sound like that last night," she smiled at the reaction, a darker shade, almost purple. "Oh no have I upset you? I have, haven't I?" she dropped to her knees. "I'm so sor-"
She was cut off by a male voice booming "Enough!" from behind her. She jumped to her feet and swung around only to be knocked back to the ground by a clenched fist to her head. The pain was unbearable. She kept her eyes shut tight so as not to see the face that matched her mother's insane cackling. She brought her hand up to her forehead, pressed her palm to it and squinted her eyes open to see her hand covered in blood. She gasped and flung her eyes open wide. Michael was standing over her smirking, his fist still raised and on it she saw a blood- drenched knuckleduster.
She let out a small scream and fled to her room followed by her mother's new fit of giggles. She looked in the mirror on the back of her door. It was bad. The huge open wound under her side fringe pumped blood down her forehead, dripped off her left brow and mingled with the tears on her cheek. "That's it!" she exclaimed, marched over to her closet and grabbed her backpack that she used to have for school and packed it full of the contents of her closet. Then she closed the door, went over to the far corner of her room and ripped back the carpet to reveal a loose floorboard. She took out a small screw and pried back the board enough for her to fit her hand through. She grasped around until she found what she was looking for and pulled out a fat wallet full of money that she had been saving since she was 12. She flicked through it, she had enough to rent somewhere, anywhere.
She patted her pocket to make sure her mobile was there, opened her bag, took out a sock and pressed it to her head to stop the bleeding. Then she quietly opened the window, jumped out onto the fire escape and shot down the back alley that led to the main street. When she reached it she ran pushing her way through the crowd until every breath was a short rasp and ripped at her lungs, she was also beginning to feel very drowsy from lack of blood. She dropped to her knees, some concerned pedestrians ran to support her but she slipped from there grasp and slumped onto her stomach.
She felt some one turning her over and applying pressure to her head. Then she heard the distant calls of some one shouting "Get an ambulance down here now!" But the last thing she remembered was those deep unmistakable green eyes staring down at her, mouthing reassurance the way she had imagined thousands of times before.
Her eyes flickered open. She was lying on a hard bed in a completely white room. She could hear the constant beeping noise and lurched her head back to find the cause and instead a sharp pain shot through her head. She screamed in pain and a nurse rushed into her.
"What's the matta' darlin'? She asked in a sympathetic out of state accent.
"Where am I? How did I get here? And how do I get out?" Sibhael rushed.
The nurse just smiled and said "You're in the New York State Hospital of Brooklyn, em... hang on just let me check your chart... " she picked up the chart hanging on the end of her bed and scanned it. "Oh yes, you were bleeding badly from an open wound in your head-"
"Well, Thank you I could have never figured that out by myself" Sibheal cut in rudely.
But the nurse just smirked and continued. "A passer-by called an ambulance and accompanied you here and your not going anywhere yet."
Sibheal bolted upright ignoring the pain in her head, it all came flooding back to her. "A passer-by?" she almost screamed at the nurse.
"Yes... h is still here if you would like to see him," she stuttered in shock at the girl's reaction.
"Yeah!! Let the bastard in!!" she screamed full on this time.
"Tell me. What was his name?" she asked more cautiously, not wanting to get her hopes to high.
"Johnny Castaway," the nurse replied. Sibheal's head dropped and her head suddenly started throbbing again. She must have been hallucinating. What would Billie Joe Armstrong want to have to do with her anyway... she sighed deeply. "I'll just get him now." The nurse said and left the room.
'Oh great, now I'm gonna have to act all polite and thankful to some guy I don't wanna see' she thought to herself sadly. She through off the covers and thanked god silently that she was still in her clothes. Then she pulled herself off the bed slowly and stood up but was immediately hit by a wave of dizziness and dropped onto the floor.
"Wow you can't seem to stay on your feet, can you?" she heard some one laugh from the doorway and felt herself being pulled onto her feet by strong male arms and looked up in surprise. "Holy shit!" she screamed, "You'er... you're Billie Joe fucking Armstrong!"
"So you've heard of me, then?" He laughed looking at her Green Day badges and t-shirt.
"Eh... yeah," she said, slowly turning red. "But I'm not obsessed or anything," she told him jokingly looking down at herself.
It was his turn to go red. "What's your name?" he asked her changing the subject.
"Sibhael," she replied.
He simply gawped at her. "Si-what?"
"Sibhael, it's Irish" she said smiling a little.
"Irish? That's awesome," he said looking less confused.
"So eh... what are you doing in New York?" she asked him hesitantly.
"Ah, me and Tre just came down to chill for a while..." he paused before adding "I needed a break."
"That's lucky for me then isn't it?" she said smiling.
He laughed and then took hold of her shoulders and steered her back to the bed. "You should rest," he said and pushed her onto it gently.
"You want me to sleep when the one person I love the most is in the room?" she said in shock.
"Awww you love me?" he enquired cheekily.
She gasped. 'Fuck' she thought to herself. "No... I mean yes... but not like that... like em... " she stuttered turning a dark shade of crimson.
"Don't worry about it. I'm not going anywhere just yet, I'll still be here when you wake up," he smiled. He couldn't leave now and anyway, he was curious about the girl. She returned his smile and leaned into the pillows, and drifted into a deep sleep almost immediately.
Billie Joe sat in the hard waiting chair next to her bed. And took this chance to study her. He could see that she was very pretty now that he could look more closely at her features. It looked so strange to see this beautiful girl with a bandage around her head, dressed for the mosh pit, lying asleep in a hospital bed. He thought she must be about 17 or 18 but she looked so much more mature than someone so young.
"Oh shit!" he said out loud looking at his watch, it was 3 o'clock. Tre didn't know where he was. Billie had gone of the apartment he was sharing with Tre early that morning. He hadn't been able to sleep, he was thinking about Adie all night. He had told Tre that he was going to get some air. How could he be so stupid to leave Tre in the apartment by himself? Who knows what he could have managed to do with no supervision. And besides he had wanted to help trash the place before they left and now they were going to get kicked out before he got a chance.
He whipped out his cell phone and dialled Tre's number.
"Yallllllllllllllllooooooooooooooowwwwwwww??????" Tre said.
"Tre? It's me."
"Sorry bu-"
"You had me worried sick. I tore the apartment apart looking for you. I tried under the couch and behind the plaster on the wall and inside all the mattresses and I broke my favourite kitchen knife trying to get you out from under the floorboards!"
"Oh jeeeeeeeeeeezus! Just come to the hospital, okay?"
"The hospital? Oh they give you drugs there if you say you are in pain, don't they? I'll be there in a sec! Which hospital?"
"Eh the state hospital of Brooklyn... I think..."
"Oh ok. I'll be there in an hour. Leave me some morphine or summin, will ya?"
"Just get your ass down here."
"Hello?" Tre walked down along white corridor. The nurse had told him that Billie Joe was with some girl in a room off it.
"Yeah I'm in here," came Billie's voice from the last room on the corridor. He walked in and saw Billie on a chair beside a bed that a young girl was sleeping on.
"Hey man, when they told me you were with a girl I got why you stood me up, but she's only like... 18 at the most! Am I not good enough for you? Is that it? Cos you know I can change!" Tre whined.
"Shut up and sit down!" Billie whispered at him.
"Where?" Tre asked looking around for another chair.
"On the ground!" Billie said, amused at Tre's face.
"The ground? I get the ground and she gets the bed? I hate you," he said, plonked himself onto the ground and crossed his arms.
"Billie?" Sibhael stirred and sat up rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah, I'm here. How are you feeling?" He asked with concern.
"Fucking wonderful," she replied with a smirk. Then she caught sight of the pouting figure on the ground. "Holy fuck!" she exclaimed. "Please tell me that's not Tre Cool!"
Tre looked up at her, turned Billie and said "Shit man, she's hot!"
Her name was Sibhael, an Irish name. Her father had chosen it. It had been the name of his great grandmother who had immigrated to America from Ireland during the famine. Sibhael was mildly pretty at a first glance but on closer inspection she was shocking in her beauty. She had long copper hair that fell around her face and framed it, a small chiselled nose that was slightly flat at the tip, she had slightly crooked teeth but they seemed to fit somehow and startling blue eyes. Despite all of this she had very low self esteem which came of being reminded daily of her ugliness by her mother.
She could hear her mother moving around in the kitchen this was always followed by her screaming for Sibhael to start her chores. Sibhael had left school when she was 16 to work harder on her band, 'A Different Love' (of which she was the drummer) and her mother seemed to have taken this as a personal invitation to make her do all the housework. She waited for it, flinching at the slightest sound in anticipation. "Sibhael!" It arrived right on queue making her jump "Get your lazy ass down here!" her mother screeched. Sibhael sighed deeply and wrenched herself off the mattress. She looked down at herself. She was wearing the same clothes from the night before, her baggy three quarter length jeans covered in Green Day badges, stripy red and black socks, cons and a tight black t-shirt with a print of the Dookie album cover on the front.
She grabbed her black Sex Pistols hoodie, through it over her head, pulled a brush through her hair and dragged herself across the hall to the kitchen. She was in no mood for her mother or her chores. "Yes, your majesty?" she said taking a low bow.
"Don't you take that tone with me, you cheeky ungrateful bitch!" her mother shouted angrily.
"Oh ok and what, may I ask, do I have to be thankful for?" she asked feigning surprise.
"I don't need to put up with this, you ugly little fucker!" her mother shot at her, her face was a very dark shade of maroon.
Sibhael found this highly amusing and decided to press her further. "Oh! I'm the fucker now, am I? Didn't sound like that last night," she smiled at the reaction, a darker shade, almost purple. "Oh no have I upset you? I have, haven't I?" she dropped to her knees. "I'm so sor-"
She was cut off by a male voice booming "Enough!" from behind her. She jumped to her feet and swung around only to be knocked back to the ground by a clenched fist to her head. The pain was unbearable. She kept her eyes shut tight so as not to see the face that matched her mother's insane cackling. She brought her hand up to her forehead, pressed her palm to it and squinted her eyes open to see her hand covered in blood. She gasped and flung her eyes open wide. Michael was standing over her smirking, his fist still raised and on it she saw a blood- drenched knuckleduster.
She let out a small scream and fled to her room followed by her mother's new fit of giggles. She looked in the mirror on the back of her door. It was bad. The huge open wound under her side fringe pumped blood down her forehead, dripped off her left brow and mingled with the tears on her cheek. "That's it!" she exclaimed, marched over to her closet and grabbed her backpack that she used to have for school and packed it full of the contents of her closet. Then she closed the door, went over to the far corner of her room and ripped back the carpet to reveal a loose floorboard. She took out a small screw and pried back the board enough for her to fit her hand through. She grasped around until she found what she was looking for and pulled out a fat wallet full of money that she had been saving since she was 12. She flicked through it, she had enough to rent somewhere, anywhere.
She patted her pocket to make sure her mobile was there, opened her bag, took out a sock and pressed it to her head to stop the bleeding. Then she quietly opened the window, jumped out onto the fire escape and shot down the back alley that led to the main street. When she reached it she ran pushing her way through the crowd until every breath was a short rasp and ripped at her lungs, she was also beginning to feel very drowsy from lack of blood. She dropped to her knees, some concerned pedestrians ran to support her but she slipped from there grasp and slumped onto her stomach.
She felt some one turning her over and applying pressure to her head. Then she heard the distant calls of some one shouting "Get an ambulance down here now!" But the last thing she remembered was those deep unmistakable green eyes staring down at her, mouthing reassurance the way she had imagined thousands of times before.
Her eyes flickered open. She was lying on a hard bed in a completely white room. She could hear the constant beeping noise and lurched her head back to find the cause and instead a sharp pain shot through her head. She screamed in pain and a nurse rushed into her.
"What's the matta' darlin'? She asked in a sympathetic out of state accent.
"Where am I? How did I get here? And how do I get out?" Sibhael rushed.
The nurse just smiled and said "You're in the New York State Hospital of Brooklyn, em... hang on just let me check your chart... " she picked up the chart hanging on the end of her bed and scanned it. "Oh yes, you were bleeding badly from an open wound in your head-"
"Well, Thank you I could have never figured that out by myself" Sibheal cut in rudely.
But the nurse just smirked and continued. "A passer-by called an ambulance and accompanied you here and your not going anywhere yet."
Sibheal bolted upright ignoring the pain in her head, it all came flooding back to her. "A passer-by?" she almost screamed at the nurse.
"Yes... h is still here if you would like to see him," she stuttered in shock at the girl's reaction.
"Yeah!! Let the bastard in!!" she screamed full on this time.
"Tell me. What was his name?" she asked more cautiously, not wanting to get her hopes to high.
"Johnny Castaway," the nurse replied. Sibheal's head dropped and her head suddenly started throbbing again. She must have been hallucinating. What would Billie Joe Armstrong want to have to do with her anyway... she sighed deeply. "I'll just get him now." The nurse said and left the room.
'Oh great, now I'm gonna have to act all polite and thankful to some guy I don't wanna see' she thought to herself sadly. She through off the covers and thanked god silently that she was still in her clothes. Then she pulled herself off the bed slowly and stood up but was immediately hit by a wave of dizziness and dropped onto the floor.
"Wow you can't seem to stay on your feet, can you?" she heard some one laugh from the doorway and felt herself being pulled onto her feet by strong male arms and looked up in surprise. "Holy shit!" she screamed, "You'er... you're Billie Joe fucking Armstrong!"
"So you've heard of me, then?" He laughed looking at her Green Day badges and t-shirt.
"Eh... yeah," she said, slowly turning red. "But I'm not obsessed or anything," she told him jokingly looking down at herself.
It was his turn to go red. "What's your name?" he asked her changing the subject.
"Sibhael," she replied.
He simply gawped at her. "Si-what?"
"Sibhael, it's Irish" she said smiling a little.
"Irish? That's awesome," he said looking less confused.
"So eh... what are you doing in New York?" she asked him hesitantly.
"Ah, me and Tre just came down to chill for a while..." he paused before adding "I needed a break."
"That's lucky for me then isn't it?" she said smiling.
He laughed and then took hold of her shoulders and steered her back to the bed. "You should rest," he said and pushed her onto it gently.
"You want me to sleep when the one person I love the most is in the room?" she said in shock.
"Awww you love me?" he enquired cheekily.
She gasped. 'Fuck' she thought to herself. "No... I mean yes... but not like that... like em... " she stuttered turning a dark shade of crimson.
"Don't worry about it. I'm not going anywhere just yet, I'll still be here when you wake up," he smiled. He couldn't leave now and anyway, he was curious about the girl. She returned his smile and leaned into the pillows, and drifted into a deep sleep almost immediately.
Billie Joe sat in the hard waiting chair next to her bed. And took this chance to study her. He could see that she was very pretty now that he could look more closely at her features. It looked so strange to see this beautiful girl with a bandage around her head, dressed for the mosh pit, lying asleep in a hospital bed. He thought she must be about 17 or 18 but she looked so much more mature than someone so young.
"Oh shit!" he said out loud looking at his watch, it was 3 o'clock. Tre didn't know where he was. Billie had gone of the apartment he was sharing with Tre early that morning. He hadn't been able to sleep, he was thinking about Adie all night. He had told Tre that he was going to get some air. How could he be so stupid to leave Tre in the apartment by himself? Who knows what he could have managed to do with no supervision. And besides he had wanted to help trash the place before they left and now they were going to get kicked out before he got a chance.
He whipped out his cell phone and dialled Tre's number.
"Yallllllllllllllllooooooooooooooowwwwwwww??????" Tre said.
"Tre? It's me."
"Sorry bu-"
"You had me worried sick. I tore the apartment apart looking for you. I tried under the couch and behind the plaster on the wall and inside all the mattresses and I broke my favourite kitchen knife trying to get you out from under the floorboards!"
"Oh jeeeeeeeeeeezus! Just come to the hospital, okay?"
"The hospital? Oh they give you drugs there if you say you are in pain, don't they? I'll be there in a sec! Which hospital?"
"Eh the state hospital of Brooklyn... I think..."
"Oh ok. I'll be there in an hour. Leave me some morphine or summin, will ya?"
"Just get your ass down here."
"Hello?" Tre walked down along white corridor. The nurse had told him that Billie Joe was with some girl in a room off it.
"Yeah I'm in here," came Billie's voice from the last room on the corridor. He walked in and saw Billie on a chair beside a bed that a young girl was sleeping on.
"Hey man, when they told me you were with a girl I got why you stood me up, but she's only like... 18 at the most! Am I not good enough for you? Is that it? Cos you know I can change!" Tre whined.
"Shut up and sit down!" Billie whispered at him.
"Where?" Tre asked looking around for another chair.
"On the ground!" Billie said, amused at Tre's face.
"The ground? I get the ground and she gets the bed? I hate you," he said, plonked himself onto the ground and crossed his arms.
"Billie?" Sibhael stirred and sat up rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah, I'm here. How are you feeling?" He asked with concern.
"Fucking wonderful," she replied with a smirk. Then she caught sight of the pouting figure on the ground. "Holy fuck!" she exclaimed. "Please tell me that's not Tre Cool!"
Tre looked up at her, turned Billie and said "Shit man, she's hot!"
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