i believe in yesterday ☽ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

molly spent most of her time at george's later that week. it was a rather windy, rainy day in liverpool. it would've been perfect if it weren't for the wind and rain.

one weekend, she visited george early in the morning before band practice, not having enough time to even get dressed, so, she brought her clothes to his house.

as the two were getting dressed in front of each other, like they would normally do, and molly usually told george to turn around, george said something that made molly think.

"molly?"

"what?" she tripped over the pajamas she stripped off. halfway into her plum-shaded dress, she looked at him expectantly.

"is paul even your boyfriend?" he blurted.

she stopped, because she didn't even know the answer to that. sure, they regularly snogged or whatever, but, where they stood, molly didn't know.

"to be frank," she continued getting into the purple dress. "i... i don't know..." she sighed.

george sniffed and turned around when she tapped him on the shoulder. "fits you perfectly," he smiled at her new dress she had gotten. "well, except for... around the... erm... arse and chest area," he laughed.

molly rolled her eyes and nodded. her breasts were flat.

"but other than that, it's okay?"

"of course it is," george replied.

he never saw anything but beauty when it came to molly. it was almost laughable. the first time he saw her, he nearly fell out of his seat because he couldn't believe the prettiest girl in the whole neighborhood came to his twelfth birthday party.

at the time, she was also twelve, turning thirteen soon. she highly resembled a younger suzy parker to george at the time.

she didn't really want to go to his party, but, her and her mother just moved into his neighborhood. her mother had to beg molly to go and make friends.

george remembered the first thing he said to her— just a little after his party. he told her something she'd never forget.

"i wish i was a model," he said. he meant something totally different, but it made molly laugh.

he meant to say, "are you a model?" or, "i wish i was there," because she was looking at a poloaroid of a beach that he gave her.

she laughed and laughed, and they became the best of friends.

"enough about paul and i," molly turned so george could change out of the clothes he was in. "how about iris? how are you two getting on?"

"iris?" he sounded exasperated. "i broke up with that bird long ago, molly,"

she could practically feel him roll his eyes while saying that. "oh..."

"too clingy. not enough... pizazz," he finished getting his clothes on and she turned around to face him.

"pizazz?" molly repeated in his exact voice. "i didn't know you said such jive words like pizazz,"

"i am a very high-functioning man, i'll have you know!"

"oh, i know, georgie-porgie!"

they ran downstairs for some chips, then came back upstairs to talk for a bit. "did you hear about what john did to cynthia?"

"no, what?"

"he slapped her right across the face! paul told me so," he chomped on a chip while they sat in the floor, facing each other.

"john? he hit her?"

"yeah. cynthia's real pissed. she's stopped talking to him. he won't stop apologizing!" he said.

                                              *

for the remainder of the week, molly spent most of her time waiting for her mother to come out of the coma, hopefully undamaged and healthy.

on sunday, she attended church like normal. saw her mother. argued with eduardo about school. spent some of her allowance on candy at the hospital.

monday, she spent time with paul. not much happened. saw her mother. went to the library and met a nice girl who helped her find the book she wanted.

tuesday was her birthday. she stayed at the flower shop until she saw her mom, then argued with eduardo some more, though he gave her a pound in apology.

she also visited george later into the night. turning sixteen wasn't half as glorious as she expected. paul phoned her just before she went to bed and told her he wished he could've seen her, but he was busy with the band.

molly only told him she understood, and told him she missed him. he told her all about his present, which was a surprise.

upon molly's visit with george on her birthday, they talked more about john's situation, her birthday and other things.

george's gift to her was a brand new book he spent most of his money on. surprisingly, molly hadn't read it before, so, she was excited about it.

the weeks kept on at a strangely quick pace. the summer had already went by at an excruciatingly fast pace, and she hated that she couldn't control it. things around her were changing, and she couldn't stop anything.

the quarrymen played for bigger crowds, sometimes even at college parties. molly never bothered to go, though, because she normally never liked the whole party scene.

she was more of a home-body. she'd rather curl up with a good book on friday and saturday nights. occasionally, she'd get out and go to one of the gigs. it was a rare occurrence when she did.

just knowing her mother was in a coma was enough to break her heart at times. whenever she thought about it, she physically cringed.

the nurses said she'd been doing fine, and she'd probably be out of the hospital by the sixteenth of july. sure enough, something had to go wrong.

just the evening before that, molly visited the hospital to see her mother. it must've been around nine or nine-thirty.

"miss mayweather, lovely to see you," a strange nurse greeted her when she walked in. "could i leave you in here alone for just a moment?"

molly nodded and turned around to gather up some of her mother's clothes. she folded them neatly and put them into a suitcase.

after, she walked to stand beside her mother. she looked so serene, all alone in the mind of hers.

"oh, mother..." she placed her hand on her cheek and began caressing it as tears welled in her eyes.

the same freckles dotted their faces, she noticed.

"come back," she sniffled and pushed back the tears threatening to spill. she sighed and closed her eyes.

she imagined a time where her father was alive. if only her father didn't have to die. everything would've been different. it wouldn't be as difficult, as painfully difficult as it was.

coldness suddenly enveloped molly when she opened her eyes. she heard distinct shouting, crying, yelling and plain chaos.

she left the side of her mother and looked down the hall. nurses scattered to get in the elevators, others took the stairs.

with curiosity, because she thought she saw a rather familiar figure, she ran down the dark, empty, cold hall to the stairway.

she ran all the way down to the ground floor before realizing what happened. in a stretcher with nurses and doctors surrounding her, was john's mother, julia.