A/n: OK NEW STORY! SORRY THIS IS CAPS MAKIGN IT QUICK! I NEED TO LEAVE SOON!
SO, THIS AN OC WHO IS NOT REALLY AN OC SINCE BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG HAS PREVIOUSLY OWNED THE NAME!
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SHIT!
The countless disciples line the streets, waiting for their savior to come and rescue them, deliver them into the nonchalant drug-induced nirvana. Their red-rimmed eyes searched frantically for their release, the only thing that will save them. That savior?
My name is Christian. Just Christian. That's all I've ever been known by around here. Where's here? Nowhere. Just east of fucking nowhere. I've lived here since as long as I can recall…
I had to be about twelve. It was late and I was on the street, alone, by myself…. I ran away from that fucking orphanage, the place I had been shut up in since my parents were killed. I couldn't be there anymore. I was gone. I had to find my family, the place where I belonged. I had to be on my own.
I was walking along in the city, jumping at every noise I heard, no matter what it was. I had no idea where I was or where I was even going. I was lost again, wandering into an alleyway. I swore I could hear footsteps behind me, heavy ones…a man's. I kept walking like nothing was wrong, but then I felt a hand grab my shoulder, turning me around forcefully.
There was a man, ratty and pale. His eyes were frantically searching me for God knows what. He pushed me against the wall, glaring into my fretful eyes.
"What's a kid like you doing out so late?" I didn't know what to say. I was frozen. "Not talking?"
"I…I…" I began, but it was greeted with another strong shove against the wall.
"Just give me your money, kid, and no one gets hurt…" He slowly pulled a knife out from his pocket as I stammered.
"Put the kid down, motherfucker!" a voice yelled from the other end of the alley. I swear the figure I saw was like a god. It was a young man, probably no older than 18. He was decked in all black, his hair included. He glared down at the man who still had a hold of me, pulling a gun out from behind his back and pointing it in our general direction.
"You're not, gonna shoot me, are you, Jimmy?" the man asked the boy with almost a laugh of disbelief.
"You wanna try me?" The boy said matter-of-factly, cocking the gun.
"You wouldn't. I taught you everything you know."
"Put the kid down." He growled once again, not putting the gun down, even after the man had dropped me flat on my ass.
"I don't think so…" He cocked the gun again and pulled the trigger. All I saw was the blood spattering and the man falling simultaneously with the gunshot. I stood there, wide-eyed staring at the horror in front of me. The boy looked up from the mess, remorseless, looking over at me. "What the fuck are you staring at?"
"I…" I began, not finishing out of fear.
He sighed and grabbed onto my arm, dragging me out of the alley. "C'mon, kid…" I wouldn't budge. "I said c'mon!" He sighed yet again. "What? Are you scared?" I nodded silently, terrified to be going anywhere with this boy carrying a gun. "Look, kid…" he started as we left the alley. "He would've killed you anyway. I did you a fucking favor. Now let's go before someone sees…"
That was the first time I met St. Jimmy.
This used to be Jimmy's route. I remember. I would follow him. But Jimmy's dead now…so it's my job. I'm the savior now, the fallen angel thrown from Heaven, damned to roam this earth until I take my place with Jimmy with my one-way ticket to Hell.
But who knew the highway to Hell could be so glorious? I was a celebrity here. Everyone knew me. They knew me as Jimmy's Boy and just That Kid. They looked to me with bloodshot eyes like I was a beacon of light in a storm. They knew that the legacy established here would live on….
But maybe that was about to change….