chap 2 is this a dream?

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A/N: This full story is going to just be in the third person. It warns everyone! I might do a first-person view if I have motivation.

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Of course, henry didn't let patrick look further into his book. Yeah... no, he was forced to. He felt anxious and nervous but masked that with a scowl. "Who knew Bowers was quite the artist?" He complimented. "Ashame they'd be seen by the non reals if you were to put them in a gallery. Why not keep them to yourself." He clicked his tounge, handed the book back, and threw himself on the couch. What just happened.

"Soo... When's your dad back?" Henry stared over at him, his eyes narrowed as he heard the mentioning of his father. What he would do to him if he found out patrick was here without permission. "Don't know and don't care," he swiped the question off. "So when are you going home? Your parents do know your back, right?" Henry threw himself on the couch as well, but he was facing Patrick. "You're the only one! My first choice," "Wait, you came to me before you went to anyone else?"
Patrick did his iconic chuckle. "Yep. From the forest near that dam sew -" He stopped at the thought of the sewer. That creature that roomed the place. The monster attacked him and nearly killed him. If he told anyone, he'd end up in the loony-bin.

Henry sat there tracing his way here in his mind. Then it dawned on him. "Your house is closer than my house is. So are vics and belches!" Henry was so confused as to why Patrick came here of all places. "Well, Henry, if you use your brain, then you'd know that my parents would probably freak out, and vic and Belch are idi-." henry nudged him. He wasn't as close to them as they just stuck around with him because they were scared, but vic was one of his oldest friends. He didn't like him being mistreated.

"Ouch," patrick muttered. He rubbed the area he'd been nudged and sighed. Henry stuck his tongue out and rolled his eyes. "So, you're saying I'm the best," henry mocked, his voice sounding selfish, but he only meant it as a joke. "No need to be full of yourself," he winked. "Well then, we better be heading to bed since someone decided to show up at 1 o clock in the morning!" Patrick rolled his eyes and was about to say something like, "Well, you were up at 1 o clock, " when he felt himself being dragged upstairs. His eyes wandered down to the small boy. As they say, small dogs are the most aggressive.

Henry's room was interesting. A normal teenager room but down graded with their shortage of money. Patrick gazed around. Cd's were piled in a corner beside a decked filled with paper and pencils. A cd player was ofcourse on it as well, for the music had to be played on something to flow through the room. Clothes everywhere but no posters. Well, except for one which was of a lady so beautiful and glowing. She looked... Happy and very much like henry. It was a small picture and had the name... soon as henry noticed Patrick's eyes fixated on the picture, he snatched it off the wall and hid it in his cabinet drawer. No one could know of his mother. He'd told everyone she'd never existed, and everyone believed him (well, they didn't say anything about it) because they were scared. If anyone found out what butch did... it was unthinkable to henry.

"Who wa-," "nobody important," he snapped back, the nervous feeling lingered in his body. He couldn't know. Nobody could know. "Yeah, whatever, so where am I sleeping?" Patrick gave a quick scan of the room in case he'd missed something out. "Oh, uh... wait... what about butch... i mea..." henry forgot patrick had to sleep somewhere. Sometimes, he forgot he was a person at all. Butches anger made his head spin. It went dark. Only henry was there. "You're going to ask him, aren't you," the voice crushed Henry's heart. "What?" Henry's voice sunk. "Go on. He'll laugh at you and tell everyone about the picture. He probably thinks it's your girlfriend. Pathetic." For some reason, every word is spit out made henry want to run away and die. It grew louder, and so did his heartbeat that raised around the room. The voice was everywhere but nowhere. It tormented and took pity. What did it want?

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