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We were sat around the dining table on the bus, somebody had woken Gerard and he was cradling a mug of coffee. My dad had washed the blood from his face and was holding a bag of frozen peas to his nose although I have no idea where the peas came from. Mikey, Frank and Ray looked confused and curious whereas Bob just looked distant-and slightly pissed off.
"Okay, so obviously my dad isn't actually dead." I sighed, taking a drag from a cigarette.
I was meant to be giving up smoking but this was a situation calling a bloody f**.
"Why did you tell your friends that I'm dead?" My dad asked.
"YOu may as well have been dead." I exclaimed, "it would've been less trouble for me and mum." I added the last part in a mutter.
"What did he do to make you say that he died?" Frank asked.
My gaze flickered up to meet his as I crushed out my cigarette in the ashtray that lay in the middle of the table.
"Where do I start? Oh yeah, he was in prison for the first few years of my life for murdering my twin brother-"
"I was innocent!" My dad yelled.
I ignored him and carried on.
"My mum took him back in the hope that jail had changed him and he thanked her by beating her and using all of her money to go out drinking. I finally moved out of that hell hole when I was seventeen and now the a*****e has the guts to come and find me." I explained briefly.
None of them spoke, my dad stare at the table, looking rather ashamed.
"Holy s**t." Gerard murmured.
I lit up another cigarette with shaking hands and inhaled the smoke with a sigh, the cloud streamed out of my mouth as my gaze flickered to each of the guys, lingering on Bob.
I felt more ashamed for letting him down, we were best friends and I have lied to him about my past, about me. I had let him down the most out of all my friends.
I looked down at my hands before taking another drag of my cigarette and blowing the smoke out above everybody's heads.
"Why did you come and find me?" I finally asked, breaking the deafening silence.
My father didn't look up from the table and mumbled his answer.
"You're mother d-died." He sounded on the verge of tears.
I didn't speak. I didn't move. I just stared at him.
he finally looked up and met my gaze. In his soft green eyes I saw a flicker of emotion; fear. And in that moment pieces of a puzzle seemed to automatically click together, the pieces seemed to slide together and form a stomach twisting conclusion.
"You killed her." It was a statement, not a question.
"I didn't mean to." His voice was quiet, yet I still heard him.
I could feel the sympathetic and shocked looks from the guys and I felt sick.
Dizzy. Confused. Angry.
I grabbed Gerard's coffee cup and threw it at my father, next was the ashtray. I was screaming at him, telling him to get out and never come back. Yet my voice sounded distant, it felt like I was watching as somebody else attacked my father.
But it was me.
And finally the form of my father disappeared from the bus, his arms over his head to protect himself from flying missiles. Once I was satisfied that he was actually fone I stormed into the back of the bus and threw myself onto my bunk, pulling across the small curtain.
I sobbed into my pillow as the guys stood shocked in the next room, murmuring to one another.
"We should get this bus back on the road." Frank.
"I'll go tell the driver." Mikey.
"Maybe somebody should see if she's alright." Ray.
"I think she needs some time alone to mourn her mother." Gerard.
"Nobody should be alone to mourn." Frank again.
I was aware of the bus rumbling into motion and then somebody's footsteps closing in. The bedroom door creaked open and slowly my bunk curtain was drawn back, I looked up into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
Suddenly, I was being embraced.