Chapter 52

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After about thirty more minutes, you eventually left the Pizzaplex. You went back home, making a quick stop at the store to get some boxes and small storage bins. Once back at your house, you got straight to work cleaning everything up. Most of your focus was on just getting rid of stuff that had been laying around the house- things like books and magazines that were never read, old newspapers, creepy decorations you never liked. Anything that wasn't needed anymore was either thrown out or put into a box that could go to a second hand store. All of Bill's stuff that was more sentimental was put into another box for storage. It took a few hours just for you to go through the living room and kitchen, finding something every five or ten minutes that would spend you spirlaing down memory lane. Eventually, you finished up the living room and kitchen and moved onto Bill's room.

Most of the stuff in his room could go. It was all clothes that neither you nor Oliver would wear or books that honestly weren't all that interesting. You kept all his electronics and papers, deciding that you'd go through them later. As you cleaned out the closet, you came across a trap door that you hadn't seen before. A wave of curiosity crashed over you and you heaved the door open, staring down at the darkness that seemed to start spreading into the closet. You stared for a few seconds, feeling compelled to go down into the dark space.

"Descend. Go find it."

Your hand let go of the trap door, letting it slam back into place.

"Fuck no. I'm not about to die to some horror movie shit," you grumbled.

"Go down. Find it. Find it."

"Shut the fuck up!" you yelled, slamming your hands over your ears. Then, you froze. You were talking to yourself. You were hearing voices. You were starting to act more and more like Bill.

You pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to keep your breathing even. What the hell was wrong with you? You'd never gotten like this before, why did that have to change?

"I need a drink," you whispered.

You grabbed your wallet and keys and left the house, walking down to the closest convenience store and heading straight for the alcohol section. You could see the cashier giving you a weird look, but you ignored him, putting your focus on finding something that sounded like it would taste good.

"Never thought of you as the drinking type."

Your head snapped up, seeing Katie standing next to you while grabbing a bottle of wine.

"Then again, I don't blame you right now," she said.

"Yeah... guess I just feel like I'm going crazy and need... something," you said.

"Fuckin' preach. The world has just been going to hell, huh?" she asked, looking over the bottle. "What's your limit?"

"I've only ever had one glass," you said.

Katie looked over at you, giving you an "are you fucking serious" look. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking back down at the different drinks in front of you.

"Is there anyone at your place to look after you?" she asked.

"No," you said.

"You might wanna stay with me, then. Trust me, you don't want your first time drinking to be on your own," she said.

You nodded and watched as Katie put the bottle of wine into a basket before grabbing a few more bottles of different alcohols and mixers before going to check out. You followed close behind her. Once she paid for everything, the two of you left. Katie made a brief stop at the store for a few more things before taking you back to her apartment.

"I'm guessing this has to do with your dad's death?" she asked, unlocking the door and letting you inside.

"Yeah, kinda. He wasn't well before he died and I feel like it's rubbing off on me," you said.

"How so?" she asked.

"Like, he'd mumble to himself and lash out and I feel like I've been starting to act the same way," you said.

"You think you're just trying to find ways to cope or...?"

"I don't know. I mean, I don't think all of this is happening cause I'm coping. I mean, at one point I considered hurting Ollie. I'd never want to hurt him! I feel like there's someone trying to control me, make me do things I don't want to do."

Katie hummed, setting everything she got out on the kitchen counter.

"So mania?" she asked.

"God, I hope not," you said, hugging yourself.

"Hey, don't worry. You're not the only one going crazy. I personally feel like I'm close to punching someone in the face at all times," she said.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Jacob. Guess the fucker had a petty crush on me, followed me around like a lost puppy and tried to do everything for me. I didn't care for a while cause I never had any issues with shutting him down and he stopped in September but then after your dad died, he fucking doubled down. He harassed me the entire time, trying to call me, invite me out to drink, all that stuff. Two days ago, he invited me out drinking and I went cause I thought maybe if I went he'd shut up and leave me alone. Then he tried to touch my chest and I punched him square in the face. I told him if he ever went near my apartment, I'd call the cops on him," she explained.

"Jesus, I didn't think he could get like that," you mumbled.

"I know! But apparently the real world turned him into a creep! Honestly, stay away from him. He's not a good person anymore," she said.

"So that's why you snapped at him earlier?" you asked.

"Yup. I'm not taking any chances with him," she said, popping open the wine bottle and pouring herself a glass.

"Alright. I'll... try to ignore him as well," you said.

Katie nodded and poured another glass, sliding it over to you.

"Ready to get drunk at three in the afternoon?" she asked.

You took the glass, staring at it for a few seconds before nodding.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

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