I Hate The Ending Myself, But It Started With An Alright Scene

Chapter 1: Kill all your friends

°Cuz we all wanna party when the funeral ends°

I woke up that one night to my dad lying me down on the hospital chair just as he got closer to my mom.

Her dark brown eyes shimmered in the low light of the room.

"I l-love you Gerard." she stuttered.

"I love you too Lindsey!" He muttered gently in reply.

By this point dad knew I'd woken up.

"I love you p-pumki-" her voice was soft and quiet as she spoke to me.

The machine that sat beside her began to pierce my ears.

It was the last thing she ever said to me, and she hadn't even got time to finish her words.

One last breath escaped her lips.

"I love you too mommy!" I whispered.

I was three at the time, but I knew what was happening.

"Linds -, LINDSEY!?" Dad screamed.

He didn't want to believe it and neither did I.

"MOM, MOMMY-!" I screamed coming closer.

I remember doctors flooded the room.

Along with them came Ray, Christa, Frank, Jamia, MIkey, Steve, Jimmy and Jennifer.

"MOMMY-Y-Y-Y!" I screamed out again.

The doctors gathered round her bed opposite where dad stood. They tried to start up her heart again until one called it.

It was too late.

"Time of death: 1:15 am, June 23rd, 2012.

"LINDS, LINDSEY! LINDS - BABY!? HONEY?!" Dads scream filled the room again.

I remember seeing him intertwine his fingers loosely between hers, sobs escaping from him. Her flesh was still warm but her muscles were weak. She had no life anymore. Not one drop of life left.

She was gone.

The doctors left the room leaving the 10 of us on our own with her.

I screamed out.

It was the reaction of being grabbed, pulled from the spot I was so attached to.

"LET ME GO-O-O! DADDY-Y-Y!"

Gerard's neck rolled ever so slightly as I caught a glimpse of his jawline that met his cheek.

I watched the room as the oak, hospital door was forced shut in front of me. A large figure met the other side of the glass pushing hard against any chance of me properly entering.

I don't remember how long I was held out there for. I just know that I was bawling and screaming, my eyes concentrated on focusing through the tears at the door standing in front of me.

Soon enough, another silhouette met the glass on the other side.

My uncle Mikey appeared.

He pushed the other body out of the way as he stood off to the side of the door way looking down on me.

His face was stern. I don't believe he ever made an expression other then complete shock and numbness.

I couldn't see a lot through the waterfalls of salty tears that fled my eyes. Anything I had seen, was irrelevant. I could piece together the scene perfectly at any time I thought of this horrible day. The day that turned my life around, my dad's life around.

Dad knelt down to the floor and pulled me in for a tight hug.

"Mommy's an angel, - isn't she?" I whispered. My voice soft and trembling.

His head nodded slowly.

"Yes Bee, mommy's an angel."

That's what dad said to me.

It was how I knew she was dead. It was how I knew she wouldn't be coming back.

My uncle Mikey took me home the next day. I moved around for the first month or two while my dad went through the process of grieving mom. I went between Mikey to Ray to Bob for a few nights. My grandparents took me in for a while. Frank and Jamia hadn't got room for me to live with them but they often took me out for the days.

Mikey would take me to do anything related to arts and crafts. I think it was more for him then for me to be honest, he loved it. Jamia and Christa took me shopping with them sometimes with the twins. Frank and Ray were there to teach me how to swim.

Dad missed a lot of me growing up.

I missed him being around and I missed mom too. So did he.

My grandad taught me how to ride a bike. Dad was there but he just watched, no smile curled his lips back. He just sat on the porch chair at their house, beer in his hand. I remember the days that followed moms death. They've influenced the life I live now so much.

I'm sixteen years old and live in the same town, on the same street and in the same house as before. Dad had moved out of his room shared with mom about a week after that night. Ever since, the sofa has been his bed and the living room his space.

I stayed in my room for the most of my time. I'd redecorated it as much as possible from when I was a kid. No more pink or purple with glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling. No more kiddy toy boxes with flowers and bee's painted on the four walls. None of that. I'd painted three of the walls a dark red while the other was black chalk board paint. I got rid of the old kid bed my parents bought for me when I was a kid and replaced it with an army style camp bed. I had red sheets and a black blanket at the end. I had posters and album covers stuck to on of the red walls. The same desk I've always had sat in front of the window. The pink curtains I used to have were died black.

I'd tried to make it my happy place.

My escape.

So hi, my name is Bandit Lee Way and this is the life I'm dealing with.