A year passed before my fears were confirmed.
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About a month after I returned, my mom and dad had another fight. Kirby and I were hiding up in my room, trying to block out the noise when I heard a voice. John's voice.
When you get home, you kick that bastard of a father out.
"I can't." I whimpered.
Go!
Hearing my mother shout sent me over the edge.
He wasn't going to hurt us anymore.
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For the record, I never laid a hand on my father. I let the police do that. Before confronting him downstairs, I called the neighbors and asked them to call the authorities. When I did talk to him, I held the phone up the air, threatening him that I would call the police.
But they came before anyone else could get hurt. I was recording the fight between the three of us as evidence against him.
Dad was gone. It was easier to sleep at night for all of us.
Even Kirby.
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A month or so later, on a rainy summer evening, I was eating soup and watching TV in the living room when a news report caught my eye. The newswoman was chattering about newfound original lyric sheets to songs and pictures. The song lyrics had some interesting new dedications.
"It was always said that John Lennon wrote his famous song 'In My Life' about his childhood memories and friends, but there appears to be another name listed on the back of the paper that hasn't been identified. According to the press, the paper says 'Elle'."
I dropped my spoon.
The male news anchor said, "And new photographs of the Beatles have been unearthed, and it seems as though one of the members had a girlfriend that no one knew about." Cue in a picture of Paul and I kissing, and another of John and I laughing together.
Touching my necklace, I wondered if I was still dreaming. Or was I going mad? Would I wake up in a hospital?
Or was I dead?
"And on the back of these photographs, it says, for example, 'Paul and Elle.'" The man turned to his female counterpart. "Do you think she's one of their girlfriends?" The woman shrugged and said she wasn't sure. They said the pictures would be auctioned off. I felt sick to my stomach.
Summer 2013 flew by, and soon I was back in school, staring junior year. The girl who's locker was next to mine was loudly announcing to her friends all of the fabulous things she did, including getting third row seats at the Austin Mahone concert she went to. She directed that comment at me, which made me secretly roll my eyes. Bitch, please.
If only she knew...
Around Christmas I went to stay with my grandmother, which was my favorite time to visit her. She always had her apartment decorated wonderfully.
It was late that night, and I felt like I was on the brink of the abyss, staring down into the darkness like I did that night in Paris. I was sure that I was going to lose it then and there, clutching my rain drop locket. My mother had asked where I got it, and I said at store at a shopping mall. She never asked what was inside it, but if she did I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to reveal it to her.
But then my grandmother said, "You used to tell the most magnificent stories. Tell me another, won't you?"
And so I did.
You could imagine what story that would be.
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It was July when my mother started to worry for me. Maybe she had been worried before, but it was the first time she voiced it. "Elle...you've been acting distant this entire year. Is everything alright?"
So many things weren't "alright." I wasn't sure if I was going mad or not, and if I was sane, I had lost the most precious people in my life so unceremoniously. If I was in a good mood for a week or so, I would remember the lads and lose all hope of ever being truly happy again.
"I'm just kind of sad. I feel like summer is going to fast, and it's only going to get faster."
That was an explaination she took happily. We hugged for awhile, and then she hurried off to do something secret on her computer. She'd been hovering around her laptop for about four months, but I never bothered to ask why.
Then on the morning of August 2nd, 2014, she said, "Pack a bag for a night, and something nice to wear. We're going to have a bit of fun this evening."
I would have been scared if I wasn't too curious, so I did what I was told, and we headed towards Minneapolis. Soon, I said, "Tell me, please! I'm dying of curiousity."
"Wait about twenty minutes when we get to our hotel."
The last time I stayed in a hotel was with the Beatles. I immediately grew sad again.
When we were checked in, I immediately threw my bag on the bed I claimed and begged her to tell me. She sighed and looked outside the window. We were at a hotel where we could see Target Field, where the Minnesota Twins played at. "As you know," Mom said in a fake, professional tone, as she pulled something out of her purse, "a certain 'Sir' will be playing Target Field tonight." She tossed me the little envelope. Inside were two tickets, and one VIP pass.
The tickets were titled: Paul McCartney: Out There Tour
I dropped them and ran to Mom, hugging and shouting, "Thank you! Thank you!" She smiled and laughed. Getting the tickets was why she was on her computer so much.
"Elle, there's one thing though. You need to put on that dress you packed because you're going to meet him! I could only get one, so you're going in alone, but I'm sure that's alright with you." I hugged her again. Then she joked, "Unfortunately, they were so expensive that you won't be going to college anytime soon." We both laughed.
At first I was incredibly excited, and then that emotion turned to anxiousness. What if all I got was a small 'Hello!', a blurry picture, a quick autograph and a goodbye?
Would he recognize me?
I would know if everything was real or not that night.
All I had to do was wait and listen to the music.
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Most of the concert-goers were fearful of rain or not having a good seat, meanwhile I feared that Paul would (or wouldn't) notice me when I met him. It sounded very conceited if you didn't know what was going through my mind.
After we both bought concert t-shirts, my mom told me where to go, and that the usher would show me to my seat if I got lost. She told me to have my phone on, which section she was in and that she put a pair of earplugs in my pocket, for I was sitting close to the stage and therefore close to the speakers.
As it turned out, I was in the third row on the field, right in front of the stage, sitting next to a group of fifty- to sixty-year-old women. One of them proudly announced that she took off her wedding ring for this concert; she didn't need to be reminded of him while she was enjoying Paul. The group of women cheered and held a toast. They were rather fun to talk to.
Then everything darkened, and he came out. The crowd roared. I screamed too.
The women that were next to me were hilarious throughout the entire concert, and they treated me like I was with them. They even took a picture with me.
Even though then he was seventy-two, he still seemed like he was about twenty. The concert was amazing and I shed many tears during a few of his songs. The first one was Here Today, his song about a conversation he never had with John, and I could tell he was tearing up. The woman next to me put a hand on my shoulder, for she was sobbing too. The second was Something, for I thought of George. And on Let It Be.
He did as he was told. He let go.
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After the show, I began to get nervous for the meet-and-greet, but the women next to me took me along with them so I wouldn't get lost. They were in front of me, and we were the last to arrive, so I would be the last to get a picture.
People clapped when he came into the backroom and he waved to all of us before talking to the first person in line.
Watching him made me remember everything we did. All of our fights and all of the tears shed. But of all of the good times. When we ran away the day and found the theatre. Vacationing in Florida. All of the happiness.
Clutching my locket and smiling wistfully, I decided that all good things must come to an end.
It was another twenty minutes before people had started to file out and it was my turn to see him. He smiled, but then got a good look at me, which made my hope start to grow.
"Hello, Mr. McCartney. I'm Elle Sullivan."
After a moment, he took a step towards me before smiling huge and holding out inviting arms. "Elle..."
"It's so good to see you again."
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Thank you for this incredible support you've given me. I mean it when I say that this is my all-time favorite book I've written.
Thank you :)
Peace and love,
Luna <3
"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."