"Mmm." The blaring sun from the window peaked its way beneath my eye lids and woke me up. I flipped over to the read the clock that claimed to be 9am. Instantly I smiled, realizing I got an average 13 hours of sleep (or at least average to me.) The good vibes shot through my body and sent me on my way down stairs to greet my parents.
"Mom? Dad?" I ask, while looking around. Upon not seeing their cars in the drive way, it came to my realization that it was a Thursday morning and going to work was still a thing for most people. I made my way into the kitchen and brewed up a couple of cups of coffee for myself. Being friends with Billie was great, but I think Mike Dirnt would really appreciate my coffee obsession.
Ah, Billie Joe. Last night was perfect in every way. It was a dream! I went to sleep knowing that I was not conscious, and I woke up in my bed, completely refreshed. Maybe Billie was right, maybe things would only get better from here.
Once it hit 1pm, I began feeling really fidgety and unstable. Usually being alone for a half a day was just great. Having control over what you can eat, watch, listen to and do were just the greatest benefits of parents working in the summer and having time off. However, I was feeling really insecure by myself. I found myself missing Billie a lot and wanting to sleep whenever I got the chance. Even after my insomnia for four days, I didn't feel the need to take another nap. I tried of course, but my body was just not having it. My phone laid on the couch besides me, I grabbed it and went through my contacts on people I haven't seen in while. Eventually I found the name Danielle. She was one of my best friends throughout elementary school, and nowadays we only meet up every so often, but when we do, it's like nothing ever changed. I gave her a call and set up a time to meet.
"Everything okay Lay?" Danielle asked sincerely. We went up to Green Hill which was a park near the both of us. When we were younger it's where we had soccer games and played at the playground. Nowadays it's where we watch the sunset, blast some music and smoke a blunt.
"There's something I want to tell you, but I really don't want you to laugh at me."
"Well, is it funny?" I giggled at her response.
"I wouldn't say it's funny, it's just kinda strange...and it's easy to assume everything I'm about to say is made up and exaggerated, but really it's not. So just, hear me out please."
She peered into my eyes and nodded in acknowledgement. Her attention then went towards the pond, "I won't laugh."
"Hmm, what's the best way to say this? Should I tell you all the details or give you a general statement on what's been happening?" I attempt to work things out.
"I'm a big girl," she takes a drag of the blunt. "I might be able to piece things together if you give me the big picture first."
"You wish. I mean, the best way to put it is my mind has been playing some major tricks on me. I've been having a hard time telling the difference between what's real and what's not."
"You tellin me you're a schizophrenic?" She immediately replied jokingly.
"Well, the doctor hasn't ruled it out. If anything, he told me it's a possibility."
She began coughing intensely and passed me the blunt.
"Wait, you're not fucking serious!"
"I am, actually."
"I guess 20 isn't old enough to be considered a big girl then."
"It has nothing to do with that, it's my mind...it's fucked. Things were better last night, but...I don't know. After being alone for a few hours today, I realized I wasn't as well off as I thought."
"Tell me everything."
So I did. I told her everything that happened in the past week. She got the low down on Boston, my senses, Billie, the park, the doctor's office, my insomnia and my most recent dream.
"Layla...oh my God girl," Danielle reached over to give me a hug. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be, I don't need sympathy, just a friend to share my stories with. I appreciate you being here though. Jasmine and Sadie weren't really cutting the whole listening thing."
"That's because they're bitches. They use you, Lay. I'll never use you like that and not return the favor."
Danielle could sort of pick out the bad apples from a crowd before she even got to know them. Even though we didn't see each other as often as we'd like, we were still the closest of friends.
I didn't have a reason to deny what she said so I nodded in assent.
"How do you feel now, Lay?"
"A little lost. After everything I've gone through I feel exhausted--as if I'm spinning in all these directions but not being able to be released and just soar with one side. Last night was pretty great, but now I'm just really tempted to go back to sleep. I think I'm going to see him again. He's always in my mind."
"Layla...can I be honest with you?" Danielle asked nervously.
"I guess so."
"I just want to be open with you because I really care about you. I want you to know what I think."
I nodded in worry wondering what she could possibly have to say.
"Well, when you were telling me about Billie, you gave me a lot of context behind what you were saying. Like how at first you thought everything was real when you first saw him, the second time you were confused, and the third time you were positive it was a dream."
"Yeah?"
"You mentioned how the doctors tried to convince you that he was fake and a part of your imagination..."
"I'm aware."
"But then you ended your little story to me claiming that he was real. Why do you still think that? Isn't it apparent he isn't real? He is literally in your head. You admitted it yourself. I know it sounds a little harsh, but I think you're sick too. I don't think it's as far as Schizophrenia, but you definitely need to be on your watch. You need to remember that seeing Billie isn't a good thing, it's a bad one. It means your symptoms are getting worse. You've already hallucinated a few times, it could happen again. When you get dreams at night, you have to deny him in order to get better. Don't fall into his trap, it'll be like falling into the disease. I don't want to see you get hurt...get any worse than you may already be."
My eyes were blank, face flushed, and my body numb. I could not believe what I was hearing. I was aware that every word out of her mouth was what she believed was right. It wasn't a selfish act, like when I met up with Jas and Sadie. It wasn't a bunch of reasonless bullshit. It was what she believed to be the truth. And nothing had angered me more.
I clenched my fist and looked down at the grass beneath me. All of my negative emotions seemed to be swelling like a tornado inside of me, waiting to destroy and peak out into sight.
"No," I finally replied while taking a deep breath. "Billie is real. He proved to me he was real. I believe him. I already tried to deny him once, and it led me to insomnia. I can't leave him again. It wouldn't matter anyways. I couldn't leave him if I tried, because he will be there no matter what the moment I fall asleep. We are bounded together. We are one."
Danielle appeared very worried and a little frightened by what I had said.
"Why are you looking at me like I'm crazy?" I quickly refute.
"You really do think he's real, don't you?" She chokes up a bit.
"I don't think, I know."
She stood up and turned away to look towards the green field behind us.
"Oh Layla," she sighs in defeat.
"What? Why are you acting like this? Don't you believe me? It's true! I don't know how or why, but it's true. It's like he's stuck in his mind and I'm stuck in his...our souls, yah know? This isn't a joke. It sounds like bull shit but it's the truth! Please tell me you believe me, Please Danielle. Tell me!"
I had my hands on her shoulders nearly shaking her to speak. Her eyes grew watery and doubt was painted all over her face.
"I hate to see you like this. I want to help you, Lay, I do...but you're out of my reach. It's hurting you fast."
"You don't believe I'm sick, do you? Tell me you don't believe it. I'm not. I'm getting better! I promise I'm getting better!"
"I think it's time to go home."
I started tearing up at the realization that not even my best friend could figure out that Billie was more than my imagination. That he was his own person. But I had realized that the way I was sounding, I couldn't blame her.
.* * *
By the time I got home, it was 5:30. My mom was waiting for me while cooking up some dinner.
"Honey! How are you? Did you get any sleep last night? Where did you go today? Are you okay?"
"Mom, calm down," I smile while kissing her on the cheek. "I got 13 hours of sleep! I woke up at nine in my bed, knowing that I had slept at 8 the night before. I had a dream with Billie in it, but I knew it was a dream, so it's okay!" I explain cheerfully.
"Billie?" She retorts. "Not him again!"
"What's wrong with him?"
"You see him every time you start hallucinating, he's bad news, Layla."
"You say that as if I choose to hang out with him behind the dumpster and skip school or something. He enters my dream on his own, it's uncontrollable."
"Maybe I should take you to the doctor again."
"No mom! I'm okay, alright? I'm perfectly fine! I thought you'd be happy for me! Why can't you be happy for me?"
"I want to be happy for you," she pleads. "But you're not showing any signs of recovery until he gets out of your head."
"So what?! Maybe he has nowhere else to go! Maybe he needs me! Ever think of that? Maybe he's not the monster, maybe it's me? Huh? Consider that maybe I'm the problem, not Billie...so leave him alone!"
My mom began crying while hearing me spit out how I felt about Billie.
"He's my inspiration! He's someone I love. He's not the bad guy here, okay? Do you understand? I love him. I love Billie Joe Armstrong and I want the whole world to know that. He's real and I love him. I told him I love him. He knows I love him. I love him! Everything about him! The way he smiles when I tell him a crappy joke, the way his green eyes glisten when he listens to me speak, the way he says "yah know" three thousand times due to excitement, his beautiful tattoos and the sound of his angelic voice. I love him!" I grew louder as I went along.
Her tears were flowing rapidly and she quietly listened to what I had to say. A few crucial moments later she made her voice heard.
"When you say you love Billie Joe Armstrong, you aren't talking about the musician. You're talking about the disease. You're saying you love the disease. And it will never let you forget it."
Va_ˮx