One event changes Bandit's life forever. One event that leaves her a hell to her uncle. One that'll go down in history, as the most tragic event in Pop Punk history.
Bandit wasn’t a great kid, but she wasn’t a bad one either. Gerard sometimes had to pick her and her drunk friends up from a lot of different places, but he’d rather that then them get driven home by a drunk driver and lose his daughter. Of course, her ass got chewed out and grounded.
But drunk drivers weren’t always teenagers. And one night, Gerard got a call at four A.M. from Bandit. He came and picked her up, with a sleepy Lyn-z in the passenger seat. Bandit stumbled into the back of the car. He shoved a plastic Walmart bag into the back in case she threw up.
Gerard made his way back to the house. It was a half hour drive. It was about six months sense the last time this happened-but she was almost 15 now. She shouldn’t have been drinking at 14, anyway!
While he was deep in thought, there was a screech of tires. He tried to swerve, but that ended up being a bad plan. His car jerked the opposite way on the icy roads. He screamed.
Lyn-z, being almost asleep, didn’t buckle her seat belt. She went through the windshield and Gerard slammed his head on the steering wheel so hard his neck snapped. He was knocked cold, but quickly suffocated.
Bandit, being peacefully passed out, and in her seat belt, was the only survivor. But she didn’t know that. Not yet.