(no subject)
Here's another one for that ass. What? Anyway, I think this is one of my best stories. It's Rancid...Tim just evokes something in me. *dies* He's snuggly...yet...prickly and he rocks like no one else.
Title: Amazing
Author: Erynn...me
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Summary: Tim has a daughter.
I was pretty young when she was born. I wasn’t 16 or even 20, but I still wasn’t ready for her to come into my life when I was 22. I had dropped out of high school and my only income happened to be from random shows here and there and selling a few of my band’s CDs every other week…or month.
I wasn’t married to her mother, but we had been dating for about ten months or so when she told me the news of a baby on the way. She didn’t have a fantastic job either. She worked at a record store and she didn’t have a car. She was just as scared as I was.
We scraped together enough money for an abortion. I mean, hell, what right did we have to bring a child into this life? I had it tough growing up, but she would have it twenty times worse with a screw-up like me for a father. Maybe the week before her mother and I decided to go into the clinic to, well, take care of the pregnancy, I saw my daughter’s picture for the first time and I made a decision that changed my life forever.
Her mother needed an ultrasound to make sure that the pregnancy wasn’t going to kill her at any point, so we both took the bus to the hospital. I sat in that cold white room with her and held her hand as the doctor ran some weird thing across her stomach.
And then, like magic, there was my daughter. I couldn’t see much in the ultrasound, but I could definitely define the shape on the screen as my daughter. She was mine and she was living and she was perfect.
We took the money we were going to use for the abortion and bought a crib. I got a number of slum jobs and started booking shows up my ass to get enough money for clothes and diapers and all those damn baby things.
I had just gotten home from playing a show in San Diego and I saw a note attached to our ancient refrigerator, which I picked up for only thirty dollars, telling me that my daughter was being born at that very moment and that I needed to get my ass down to the hospital.
When I walked into the hospital, I saw the single most beautiful human being in the world. She had little hands and little toes and the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen. Her mother was cradling her, but it took less than a second for me to ask to hold my daughter for the first time.
I held her and she just looked up at me like I was the most important thing in the world to her. She was the most amazing little miracle I ever laid my eyes on. We named her Miki Lynnette Armstrong because ‘Miki’ seemed like such a great rock star name at the time, but now it’s just sort of quirky and something I hear from her friends that she banks on when she’s trying to flirt.
Operation Ivy really struck gold while she was growing up. It struck gold and it struck rock bottom, too. For awhile, things really looked bad. It looked like a welfare-and-food-stamp future for us.
I guess that was when her mother left. I was out pounding the pavement, looking for any kind of job that might put food on the table. I got home and all of her things were gone. All that was left was my massive record collection and all of Miki’s toys. Miki was sitting on the rundown couch, crying her sweet blue eyes out. It really broke my heart when I realized her mother left us, but it really pissed me off that she had left my daughter by herself in an unsafe city for more than five hours while I was gone.
After that, I heard nothing from her mother. I went to court to try and get someone to find her and make her pay child support. I did everything I could to make sure Miki had some hope of a mother in her life. I did everything, but nothing worked and Miki grew up with just me.
It wasn’t such a bad life, though. It didn’t take long for me to get back on my feet and before I knew it, Rancid rose from the ashes of Operation Ivy. We worked hard and things really started up. We were right back in the right place in no time and I saved as much money as I could to ensure that Miki would always have a place to live and something to eat.
She never had a mother, so I sort of stepped up to the plate and tried to take over both roles. Girlfriends came in and out of my life, but none of them were really much of a mother. I married Brody when she was about seven. Miki and Brody had about an 11 year age difference and it was a pretty weird arrangement for awhile.
Brody took Miki as a sister more than a stepdaughter which really worked out well and the two were instant friends. When Brody and I divorced, Miki felt betrayed by her “sister”. The two never really talked again, but I can tell it really tore Miki apart.
Miki followed in my footsteps and got into punk rock. I guess I sort of instilled punk rock values in her since she was a little kid. She’d fall asleep to Social Distortion as a baby and when she was ten she was more into Bad Brains than the New Kids on the Block.
Brody may have been her “sister” and friend, but I was her father, mother, and best friend. She was also my best friend. When she was old enough, she’d sit on the side of the stage at Rancid shows and watch. Sometimes she’d color in coloring books, but most of the time she’d just sit and sing along to the lyrics. She was my only daughter, she was my only angel and she meant everything in the world to me.
I brought her on tour with me when I could. When she was young it was easy to pull her out of school and take her on tour with me. All I’d have to do was get a teacher to come on the road and teach her all the things she wanted. When she got older though, she had friends and attachments that I’d feel too guilty to break. She’d stay with my parents and go to school while I was on the road. Occasionally she’d take a week off here or there and spend some time with her old dad.
Most of her life was spent in the company of me and my band, and we were all just like a family. Lars, Brett, and Matt were like her big brothers. They babysat when I needed them to, they scared off questionable boyfriends, and they looked after her like it was their god-given duty to make sure Miki got through life safely.
Miki’s schooling paid off and she accomplished something I never did. She graduated from high school. Black cap, black gown, blue eyes. I was so proud of her I told everyone about it. Lars and Brett and Matt showed up to watch my daughter graduate that day. We probably scared the whole damn school with our tattoos and piercings and mohawks.
I heard her name and every single memory of her as a child came flooding back to me. I remembered holding her as a baby and playing peek-a-boo with her as a toddler. I remembered her first guitar and her first skateboard. I remembered her first date and teaching her how to drive. She was my life and she was everything I had ever dreamed of. She was the perfect daughter.
“Miki Lynnette Armstrong,” boomed over the loud speaker and all four of us damn punks stood up and screamed and clapped. I tried to hold a smile and I watched her wave at me and smile. Emotion and love pushed tears in my eyes and made my lips quaver.
She was my baby girl and all of a sudden, she was an adult with her whole life ahead of her. I felt sad and happy and proud. I didn’t need a band, I didn’t need money, I didn’t need a wife or education or a steady job. All I needed was my daughter. She was and still is my life, my love, and forever my most amazing accomplishment.
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So? What'd you think?
Title: Amazing
Author: Erynn...me
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Summary: Tim has a daughter.
I was pretty young when she was born. I wasn’t 16 or even 20, but I still wasn’t ready for her to come into my life when I was 22. I had dropped out of high school and my only income happened to be from random shows here and there and selling a few of my band’s CDs every other week…or month.
I wasn’t married to her mother, but we had been dating for about ten months or so when she told me the news of a baby on the way. She didn’t have a fantastic job either. She worked at a record store and she didn’t have a car. She was just as scared as I was.
We scraped together enough money for an abortion. I mean, hell, what right did we have to bring a child into this life? I had it tough growing up, but she would have it twenty times worse with a screw-up like me for a father. Maybe the week before her mother and I decided to go into the clinic to, well, take care of the pregnancy, I saw my daughter’s picture for the first time and I made a decision that changed my life forever.
Her mother needed an ultrasound to make sure that the pregnancy wasn’t going to kill her at any point, so we both took the bus to the hospital. I sat in that cold white room with her and held her hand as the doctor ran some weird thing across her stomach.
And then, like magic, there was my daughter. I couldn’t see much in the ultrasound, but I could definitely define the shape on the screen as my daughter. She was mine and she was living and she was perfect.
We took the money we were going to use for the abortion and bought a crib. I got a number of slum jobs and started booking shows up my ass to get enough money for clothes and diapers and all those damn baby things.
I had just gotten home from playing a show in San Diego and I saw a note attached to our ancient refrigerator, which I picked up for only thirty dollars, telling me that my daughter was being born at that very moment and that I needed to get my ass down to the hospital.
When I walked into the hospital, I saw the single most beautiful human being in the world. She had little hands and little toes and the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen. Her mother was cradling her, but it took less than a second for me to ask to hold my daughter for the first time.
I held her and she just looked up at me like I was the most important thing in the world to her. She was the most amazing little miracle I ever laid my eyes on. We named her Miki Lynnette Armstrong because ‘Miki’ seemed like such a great rock star name at the time, but now it’s just sort of quirky and something I hear from her friends that she banks on when she’s trying to flirt.
Operation Ivy really struck gold while she was growing up. It struck gold and it struck rock bottom, too. For awhile, things really looked bad. It looked like a welfare-and-food-stamp future for us.
I guess that was when her mother left. I was out pounding the pavement, looking for any kind of job that might put food on the table. I got home and all of her things were gone. All that was left was my massive record collection and all of Miki’s toys. Miki was sitting on the rundown couch, crying her sweet blue eyes out. It really broke my heart when I realized her mother left us, but it really pissed me off that she had left my daughter by herself in an unsafe city for more than five hours while I was gone.
After that, I heard nothing from her mother. I went to court to try and get someone to find her and make her pay child support. I did everything I could to make sure Miki had some hope of a mother in her life. I did everything, but nothing worked and Miki grew up with just me.
It wasn’t such a bad life, though. It didn’t take long for me to get back on my feet and before I knew it, Rancid rose from the ashes of Operation Ivy. We worked hard and things really started up. We were right back in the right place in no time and I saved as much money as I could to ensure that Miki would always have a place to live and something to eat.
She never had a mother, so I sort of stepped up to the plate and tried to take over both roles. Girlfriends came in and out of my life, but none of them were really much of a mother. I married Brody when she was about seven. Miki and Brody had about an 11 year age difference and it was a pretty weird arrangement for awhile.
Brody took Miki as a sister more than a stepdaughter which really worked out well and the two were instant friends. When Brody and I divorced, Miki felt betrayed by her “sister”. The two never really talked again, but I can tell it really tore Miki apart.
Miki followed in my footsteps and got into punk rock. I guess I sort of instilled punk rock values in her since she was a little kid. She’d fall asleep to Social Distortion as a baby and when she was ten she was more into Bad Brains than the New Kids on the Block.
Brody may have been her “sister” and friend, but I was her father, mother, and best friend. She was also my best friend. When she was old enough, she’d sit on the side of the stage at Rancid shows and watch. Sometimes she’d color in coloring books, but most of the time she’d just sit and sing along to the lyrics. She was my only daughter, she was my only angel and she meant everything in the world to me.
I brought her on tour with me when I could. When she was young it was easy to pull her out of school and take her on tour with me. All I’d have to do was get a teacher to come on the road and teach her all the things she wanted. When she got older though, she had friends and attachments that I’d feel too guilty to break. She’d stay with my parents and go to school while I was on the road. Occasionally she’d take a week off here or there and spend some time with her old dad.
Most of her life was spent in the company of me and my band, and we were all just like a family. Lars, Brett, and Matt were like her big brothers. They babysat when I needed them to, they scared off questionable boyfriends, and they looked after her like it was their god-given duty to make sure Miki got through life safely.
Miki’s schooling paid off and she accomplished something I never did. She graduated from high school. Black cap, black gown, blue eyes. I was so proud of her I told everyone about it. Lars and Brett and Matt showed up to watch my daughter graduate that day. We probably scared the whole damn school with our tattoos and piercings and mohawks.
I heard her name and every single memory of her as a child came flooding back to me. I remembered holding her as a baby and playing peek-a-boo with her as a toddler. I remembered her first guitar and her first skateboard. I remembered her first date and teaching her how to drive. She was my life and she was everything I had ever dreamed of. She was the perfect daughter.
“Miki Lynnette Armstrong,” boomed over the loud speaker and all four of us damn punks stood up and screamed and clapped. I tried to hold a smile and I watched her wave at me and smile. Emotion and love pushed tears in my eyes and made my lips quaver.
She was my baby girl and all of a sudden, she was an adult with her whole life ahead of her. I felt sad and happy and proud. I didn’t need a band, I didn’t need money, I didn’t need a wife or education or a steady job. All I needed was my daughter. She was and still is my life, my love, and forever my most amazing accomplishment.
--------
So? What'd you think?