Welcome to Gaia! ::

actually, aha sweatdrop .....

I haven't figured out who it is yet...

the origional idea was to have a celebrity of somekind, but now I'm not so sure.

hmmmmm

i don't know! this is rather frustrating.

Yayness! Here is yet another installation in the gripping tale that is my fanfic. um, yeah.

Oh, just a side note, but I wrote this when I had a fever of, like, 102, so if some of it doesn't make sense, tell me OK?

At the table sat Billie Joe Armstrong. I couldn't believe that the guys would go that far for me. "You guys suck!" I yelled out, hitting the nearest one, who turned out to be Gerard. "Why?" he asked, rubbing his arm. "I thought you were a big fan of Green Day." "I am! This is going too far! You didn't have to do all this for me! How did you even get him to come?" Gerard shrugged. "Let's just say that I totally kicked his a** with a light saber, and that he owes me a favor." I glanced warily at him. "What does that mean?" He just grinned cryptically. So I went over to the table, introduced myself as a huge fan, and sat down.
Billie Joe was an awesome person to hang out with. He was funny, weird, loud, and very nice, as well. I had to pinch myself several times to make sure that this wasn't a dream.
After dinner, which was excellent, with a farewell to Billie Joe, we all piled back in my new car and went back to the bus. When I pulled up, they all got out, but made me stay in the car with Mikey. They then rushed back into the bus, acting like complete whackos the whole time- spinning and jumping around. "Mikey, what the hell is going on?" I asked crossly. "Sorry, Gwen, but your birthday isn't over yet." I glared at him so fiercly that he actually began to sink back into his seat. "Don't hurt me or anything! We just wanted to give you a very special birthday." I snorted and leaned back, staring out at the empty parking lot. "I'm not a very special person." Mikey gave me a look. "What? I'm not! You all shouldn't be doing this. I fell guilty now- I don't deserve it." "Gwen..." he sighed. "You're my best friend, but you can sometimes be an idiot." I began to object, but he cut me off. "You can't seriously think that you're not worth it! You saved Gerard from the brink of suicide! You cured him of his alcoholism and drug addiction! You saved our band from tearing apart. Believe me, you are special." I began to say that any friend would do the same, but Ray suddenly appeared. He opened my door and pulled me out. "Okay!" he said excitedly, "The bus is ready for your arrival." "Don't know why you all couldn't just've stopped at Billie Joe..." I grumbled. "No complaining on your birthday." "Right."
When I climbed onto the bus, it was utter chaos. There were black and green steamers everywhere- my favorite colors. There was a sort of Day of the Dead theme going on. White confetti covered the table, which had a black table cloth on it. Skeletons were hanging all over. On the table was a huge cake. It was white frosted with a black frosting border, and it had a picture of me on it. "Oh my God, it's face cake!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands and jumping up and down. They all grinned, and Gerard produced a bunch of black plastic plates. Bob served the cake, and for the next fifteen minutes we all sat in silence, munching our face cake in happiness. Then Frank got the bright idea to play spin the bottle, and I spent the next thirty minutes trying to dissuade them from playing it. In the end, I won, and we ended up doing improv games, which were really fun. Since it was my birthday party, I was the moderator, so I gave them scenes and places, and personalities. It was extremely entertaining, and I almost passed out from lack of oxygen from laughing too hard.
When it got to be 11:00, it was Bob who suggested that we all get some sleep, because the next day we had a concert to go to that was 4 hours away. They all went in their bunks and bid me goodnight, but I stayed awake, contemplating the best birthday I ever had.
The next few weeks, everything was great. I was excelling as their personal assistant, and our friendship grew stronger. But then, on November 3, I got a call that I would never forget.

*gasp* what could the call be?

Unfortunately, my internet at my mom's house kind of dies when I go on this page, so you all may have to wait until next week for the next update...

no, I did not know that.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BILLIE JOE!

I didn't feel like waiting another week.

The boys found me on the couch, curled up in the fetal position and crying. Gerard and Mikey immediately rushed to my side, asking what was wrong. It took me a few minutes to calm down enough to speak. "M-my mom...my mommy called...and...a-and..." I hiccuped. "And?" Gerard gently prompted. It took a minute for me to reply. "My mom has cancer!" I wailed, and cried harder. Gerard and Mikey looked at each other, pale and shocked. They then both grabbed on to me, and held me in their fierce embrace for the next hour. They were crying, too.
The next day, I made plans to go back home to New Jersey. I said my goodbyes, which were not pleasant at all, got emails and cell phone numbers, and left.
When I arrived in New Jersey and saw my mom, I almost broke down and started crying again. It turns out that she had breast cancer- stage three. There are four stages for cancer, stage four being the worst mortality rate. She had started chemotherapy, and her hair was falling out. She wore a purple bandanna to hide her head, and she was so weak from the chemo that she couldn't get out of bed. She could barely lift her arms to hug me. I spent the next 10 months with her, helping her through all her surgeries, all of her chemo treatments, and, once chemo was done, all of her radiation. This whole process was a grueling one. There were times where she and I would just sit on the couch, her in her robe and head scarves, and me in my pajamas, just watching TV and trying not to cry. We tried our best to stay positive, but that's the thing about cancer- it sucks positive forces from the face of the earth.
By august 2005, enough trips to the doctor told us that her cancer was gone. We celebrated, but only briefly, because we knew that it could always come back. There was always that chance.
I had originally planned to stay with my mom for a much longer period of time, but she objected.
"I'm fine honey," she said. "But Mommmyyy..." I whined like a little kid. "No, hun, go back and stay with your friends. I'm sure that they're falling apart without you." She said it as a joke, but she had no idea how right she was.

Side note: This segment of the story is dedicated to my mom, who was diagnosed with breast cancer two (or three, I keep on getting it mixed up) years ago. She was diagnosed with stage three, as well.

oh, and here's something you all should know:
DOCTORS DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING! Apparently, my mother had breast cancer for several years before they found it...

Hospitals used to creep me out, but now they fill me with an amazing sense of rage...

on a brighter note, I'm probably going to have the next chapter out tonight...I can't help it, I'm a writing geek.

woosh!