KK, so this is a modern day version of Goodnight Mr Liam. It's roughly based on the story, but I hope you like it none the less. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the GNMT characters or their stories.

Last Farewell

It was a beautiful day in the city. London was filled with the carefree hustle and bustle of everyday life: cars weaved their way about the city; tourists snapped up the sights of the English capital with their latest cameras; and groups of chattering people walked the streets and park, enjoying the lovely day.

Yes, lovely, Amy thought bitterly, as she stared out of the window gloomily as the car waited in a long line of traffic. Why won't these cars just disappear?

Amy Wilson was fifteen-years-old, and tall for her age. Her dark brown eyes were dark enough to be mistaken for black, and her fine blonde hair whirled around her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Or at least, that was what her mother had said. Her mother was not in the car with her and brother now, but in the one just in front. She was in the hearse. Inside the coffin.

A hand touched her shoulder, comforting and reassuring in this time of sadness. Amy looked up, her eyes grateful. Besides her sat a boy, his scruffy hair unusually neat, and his tight hoody and skinny fits replaced by a crisp black suit and tie. His dark brown eyes glimmered shamelessly.

"Hey, Amy," he mumbled, forcing a smile. "Cheer up, right. I mean, it's not like we're dead, is it?"

Besides him, Andrew Barrings, Amy's stepfather stiffened in his seat. "That is uncalled for, Liam."

Amy's two year older brother, Liam Wilson, glared at his stepfather with vicious eyes. It was hardly a secret any more that Liam and Andrew hated one another with a vengeance. The main reason that Liam hated Andrew was because he blamed the man for ruining his life – though that was probably not his fault. Andrew had thrown Liam from his house after the boy's three years of drug abuse, until the man finally snapped. Liam now lived at a boarding school run by one of Andrew's brothers, and the siblings barely ever saw one another.

"Sorry, sir," Liam replied sarcastically. "I didn't realise it was an offence to talk to my sister."

"I shan't have you talking ill of the dead," Andrew growled, "especially not of your mother. She deserves better than that."

Liam's eyes darkened. "Yeh. Like she got that from you."

"Leave it," Amy whispered, afraid of another of the twos' famous fights to break out. "Liam, just calm down. Please?"

There was a icy silence for a moment. Finally, after Liam had finished glaring at the man next to him, he turned to face the front of the car heading the funeral procession behind the hearse. "Fine."

The crematorium was large, the drive up to the building ornate and picturesque amongst the beautiful headstones and rainbow flowers. It made Amy feel nervous, uncomfortable. She reached out, grabbing her brother's hand for support, barely able to feel surprised when he gripped her hand back, just as tightly. When the cars finally stopped and the mourners got out of the cars, Amy and Liam still held hands. Secretly, Amy was afraid to let go.

"It's boiling," Liam remarked, as they lined up outside of the crematorium with the eight other mourners. None of them were family, just some of Mum's business associates. "You must be roasting in that, Amy. C'mon, you can sacrifice that blazer, can't you?"

Amy felt her gut tighten suddenly. She was only wearing her t-shirt underneath the blazer! She shook her head quickly, mumbling, "Nah, I'm fine. Honestly, Liam."

Liam gave her a sideways glance. "Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing," Amy hissed back. "Liam--"

"You're hiding something from me."

"I'm not!"

"Amy, just--"

Andrew hushed them quickly as a man in a crisp suit called for the mourners to enter the crematorium in single file and in silence. Amy refused to let go of Liam's arm, burying her face into his shoulder as they walked past the man, just as she had use to do when they'd been children. If she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her! If she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her! If she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her!

The man glanced at the brother and sister, frowned slightly as he met Liam's cool gaze, then ushered them on inside.


As the mourners left the crematorium, Amy battled back tears. Andrew took the condolences for the family, nodding gravely at Mum's associates as they made to leave. Liam grunted off a woman's sympathetic apology, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his trouser pockets. He saw Amy watching apprehensively and waved on in her direction. She shook her head, smiled, and Liam light up his own with a shrug.

"Damn, I hate this place," the boy muttered angrily, exhaling. "Too quiet by far! Got a boyfriend yet, Amy?"

"No," Amy asked, slightly annoyed by her brother's question. "Why do you want to know?"

Liam grunted. "Why not? I hardly ever see you, and you never speak to me about those types of things over the Internet."

"That's because it's personal."

"Yeh, and I'm your brother. I'm protective of you, squirt. Not like our dear parents are falling over themselves to do that, are they."

Amy shrugged, feeling guilty. "Maybe Andrew's right, Liam. Maybe we shouldn't be talking ill of Mum." Liam's face hardened. "It's not her fault you were kicked out, you know?"

"I know, I know," Liam confessed, tapping the ash from his cigarette. "Still, she let that stupid gimp into our lives. I'll never forgive her for that." He was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "You heard about the Prime Minister?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "What did he do this time?"

"Angered... Oh, guess! Go on, Amy, guess which country! God, are we going to get our sorry asses kicked if this one back fires! No? Fine then, it's--"

"Put that out this instance!" Andrew snarled, appearing before them. Amy and Liam jumped, surprised, and Andrew's face became livid with anger. "Liam Wilson, put that out right now!"

"Jeezum, man, cool it!" Liam growled, dropped the cigarette to the ground and squashing it beneath his toe. "There? Happy now?"

Andrew's left eyebrow began to twitch of anger, the first signs of rage appearing on his face. He tried to look cool, composed, but it was obviously a strain on the man.

"No, Liam, I am far from happy at this moment in time. You know what your mother felt about smoking – what would she have said if she saw you now?"

Liam clenched his fists, muttering under his breath. Amy barely caught his words. "Probably whatever you wanted her to."

"What was that!" demanded Andrew, furious. Liam merely smiled in response, though the smile wavered as Andrew stepped up to him. Though he only came up to Liam's nose, the man was still an impressively daunting sight. "Smoking is a filthy habit, Liam, do you not know that? Probably another one of those little joys you picked up from your 'well hard' friends, isn't it?" He rounded on Amy. "Did you smoke one?"

"No," Amy said instantly. There was doubt in her stepfather's eyes. "Andrew, I swear I didn't."

"I can back that," Liam added, making Andrew look at him once more. "Amy wouldn't. Asthma, you see?" Liam coughed feebly into his hand, then smiled again. "Don't want her to damage her lungs."

"Don't be funny with me, mister!" threatened Andrew. "I have had to deal with you for two days, and now I have had enough! As soon as we get home, you're to pack your belongings and leave, do you hear?"

Liam glared at him, looking absolutely mad with anger. "I hear you. But you know what, mate?" Liam swore angrily, turned and stormed off.

Amy yelled at him to come back, wanting to run after him, but Andrew seized her by the arm. The girl winced, biting back a yelp of pain, and only just manage to keep it at bay. "Let him go," Andrew ordered quietly. "He knows what he's doing."

Please, Liam, Amy thought desperately. Please come back! Liam! Don't leave me alone. But her brother didn't hear her silent pleas. The last thing Amy saw of Liam that fine day was him shrugged his blazer over his shoulders as he stalked away through the sea of flowers and stone.


Amy didn't feel particularly hungry that evening. She toyed with the mash on her plate with the fork, staring dully forwards towards the TV, but there was nothing on. The soaps that usually cheered her up made her feel even more depressed, and the reality shows made her feel even worse. Ten people stuck in a house? Try being stuck in her life!

There was movement behind her at the door, making Amy freeze. "Why aren't you eating your meal?" a cold voice asked her.

"I'm...not hungry," Amy replied. Andrew walked into the room, wiping his hand across his mouth as he stared towards the TV. "What's this crap?"

"It's just a kiddies' programme," the girl answered, "that's all. Do you want to watch the news? There's a documentary on something or other here if you want--"

"Did you smoke?" Andrew's eyes were bleary with drink from the bottle in his hand. Amy stiffened. Was he still on about that? No, of course he would be. "Amy. Did you smoke?"

"No." The girl felt her chest tighten with fear as Andrew took the remote from the arm of the sofa and switched off the TV. Placing the bottle of vodka on top of the box, the man turned to face her. "Andrew, I swear I didn't."

"God doesn't like liars, Amy Wilson," Andrew hissed, beginning to undo his belt. "Liars and self killers go to hell. Your mother was a liar, just like you. Both of you will get what you deserve."

Mum wasn't a liar! Amy wanted to scream at him. You're the liar! You drove her to it! She wanted to get away from you!

And she left me to face the consequences on my own.

Andrew had removed his belt now and was staring at her with a placid look on his face. The belt swung lazily in his hand, like a snake in slumber. She knew what would come next. Suddenly, Andrew dived for her, seizing the girl by the arm and hoisting her to her feet, the plate of food falling to the ground and smashing. His tight grip on her arm awoke the bruises from the week before, and this time Amy couldn't help but yelping with the pain. Andrew snarled in response.

"You have to learn," he muttered. "Beat the sin out of you in life before it can be punished in death. I'm doing you a favour, girl. Do you want the devil to burn you? Like he's burning your mother? I couldn't save her in the end, but I will save you."

"I haven't done anything!" Amy screamed at him, as he forced her to the floor, holding her still while he lifted his arm. "Please! I didn't do any--" Her words were cut short as Andrew brought the belt swinging down.

When he had finished, Amy lay on the floor sobbing. She nursed the lashes on her arms again, feeling others even stronger on her back, wishing that she could die. Andrew glanced at the mess on the floor and shook his head angrily.

"Stupid girl," he growled, then lashed the floor near to Amy, making her wince. "Clean that mess up, Amy, and go to bed. Now!"

She didn't have the strength or the courage to say no.


KK, so a little violent to begin with, but hopefully that was ok. Please tell me what you thought of it! Llamas, Ginger-Bizkit!