Watch your back

Chapter 4

(Dipper pov)

I pull at the chain uselessly like I have been doing all night. I couldn't sleep, not without feeling the overwhelming fear that he was going to come back and do who knows what to me. I don't trust the food he brought me either. He could have drugged it for all that I know. The only thing that I know for sure is that this psycho can not be trusted under any circumstances.

I give up after one last pull before I put my ear against the floor to try and see if I can hear him moving around down there.

As far as I can tell he is the only one in the house. I've only been able to hear his footsteps the entire time. I guess it's better knowing that it is only him and not a whole group of crazy stalkers that ended up kidnapping me.

Hearing the footsteps getting closer I quickly get up and sit on the bed as the trap door opens and he comes up holding a plate in his hands. He is wearing faded jeans and a tanktop with a loose white cardigan pulled over it. I see him eye the uneaten food from last night.

"Why didn't you eat it? It's your favorite meal from your favorite fast food place isn't it?"

"Y-Yeah, it is, but I just wasn't hungry last night."

"Makes sense considering my.......behavior....last night." He sets the plate next to me on the bed as he picks up the uneaten food from last night.

"What was that last night?"

"None of your concern."

"Bill, you tried to kill me."

"No I didn't. I wouldn't do that."

"But you did. You cursed me out and then you-"

"Enough!" I flinch slightly as he raises his voice at me. He sighs slightly before he speaks again. "I have some bad thoughts sometimes, and that leads to me talking to myself a lot. That leads to me getting angry at my other voices and that leads to me acting violently towards other objects and.....and other people. I'm not proud of it and I didn't mean for you to see me like that. But that is why I made sure it won't happen again."

".....what do you mean that you made sure?"

"That is why I had to leave so suddenly." He pushes the sleeve of the cardigan off his shoulder and I see dozens of new and recent burns covering his shoulder.

"You hurt yourself? With fire?"

"Not just fire. Also used a taser, the cigarette lighter in my car and just cigarettes. I had to punish myself for hurting you. So now if I feel like that again, I can just apply preassure to any of these burns and it will keep me from hurting you again."

"Bill, you are sick."

"No I'm not. I am as healthy as an ox. My immune system is surprisingly strong."

"I don't mean that kind of sick. I mean mentally sick. You can't stop yourself from lashing out at me by hurting yourself like that. It is the completely wrong way to go about doing things."

"It works. It doesn't matter if it's right or wrong as long as it works. That is all that matters."

"Bill-"

"I'll put this stuff in the fridge in case you decide that you want to eat it later. I will be back for your plate and silverware in a few hours. Just knock on the floor if you need me for anything."

"What if I have to use the bathroom?"

"That's what that bucket over there is for. I know that it isn't exactly ideal but it's the best I can offer considering the circumstances."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just let me use the acutal bathroom in the house downstairs?"

"Yes, but I can't trust that you won't try to run away or do something really stupid like that if I let you down there. Living here doesn't have to feel like a prison. If you just listen to what I tell you, then everything will turn out fine. Trust me on that."

"How am I supposed to trust you after what you did?"

"Trust goes both ways, Pinetree."

He goes back downstairs, shutting the trapdoor and I hear the click of him locking it before his footsteps fade further.

I reach into my pocket taking out the paperclip and unfold it before inserting it into the lock of the chain. It takes a few minutes of me twisting and turning it in there before the lock finally opens and the chain falls off of my ankle.

I step away from the chain before picking up the bucket bringing it back over to the window. I turn the bucket over and set it on the ground before I stand on top of it so I can reach the window.

I reach up, pushing the window open enough that I can slip through.

This could be my one chance of getting the hell out of here.

Grabbing the windowsill, I manage to pull myself up and squeeze myself through the small opening and climb onto the roof.

Standing on the roof I take the chance to really get a better understanding of my surroundings.

The neighborhood looks no different than most suburban neighborhoods that I've seen but this one feels oddly silent. There are no cars in any of the other driveways and all of the other houses look like no one has lived in them for years. This whole place just feels majorly unsettling.

I need to figure out a way off of this roof and from there I can figure out where to go or how to call someone for help.

I slowly inch my way closer to the edge of the roof when my foot slips from underneath me sending me tumbling over the edge of the roof.

My hand reaches out grabbing onto the gutter and I hear it groan in protest but it seems to hold. I try to pull myself back onto the roof but the gutter breaks sending me falling to the ground hard as everything goes dark.