Billy Loomis has never cared about anything in his life until Stu Macher changes that. Afraid that his strange thoughts would make the only person he's ever cared for leave him.. instead Billy and Stu hatch a plan that will turn their little suburba...
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April 1995, Woodsboro, CA.
For as long as I can remember I've never really felt any emotions, well positive ones at least. I have felt some negative like anger and an everlasting numbness. Even when I think back of supposedly happy moments, childhood birthday parties, my first kiss with Sidney... I feel nothing, even when my own Father was exposed for sleeping with my girlfriends Mother which then caused my own to leave. Numbness, I know how I'm expected to feel, and I can portray that when needed but I just don't feel it.
I accepted the fact that I was broken years ago which is why when Stuart Macher, my closest friend from that empty childhood started to make me feel.. I didn't know what to do. I'm already fundamentally flawed and on top of that I have to be a fag too?
Give me a break.
"Billy, come on. You can come back to mine?" within the time I had taken a few steps away Stuart took one and grabbed my arm turning me around to face him again, leaning down to me "I promise I won't talk about any of this- until you're ready".
"Fine just let go" I pull my arm free, and he puts his hands up in the air as if saying don't shoot.
He walks backwards for a couple of steps before pivoting theatrically trying to get a laugh from me, I don't and follow him to his car. An old Toyota land cruiser that his absent parents so kindly left for him. We both get in and it's a quiet drive to the Macher house, which is only 15 minutes away, well most things are only 15 minutes away in a sickly small town like Woodsboro. Is this feeling anger? No, it's not strong enough it's more like annoyance that my hometown causes me. We drive past my house and all the other big empty houses with even emptier people in them. I wonder what lies my father told the hospital and how quickly he made his escape, back to pretending I don't exist probably. It's okay, I don't blame him.
We pull up onto the Macher's drive and I realise I haven't said a single word for the entire drive, the engine stops bringing all of my attention to the silence. I look over at Stu who is sat awkwardly, looking straight ahead, waiting. He turns when he feels my gaze on him, I'm staring. I sling open the door and head into his house through the open garage, I hear his feet stumbling after me. How can someone so tall be so clumsy?
I keep walking and head to the bathroom; I know this home better than my own. I hear his footsteps stop when he realises what I'm doing and I'm grateful but also.. no. I quickly shower and change into a fresh long sleeved khaki sweater and some boxers, both Stu's. Both huge on me. I look at the mirror, obscured by the steam. I wipe it away with my sleeve and stare at my reflection. Man, I look like shit. My wet brown hair hangs in its middle part slightly covering my eyes, which are framed by dark circles. My usual tanned skin looks pale. I could pass as a corpse, I smirk. I walk back downstairs to the living room where I hear the TV on, Stu is splayed across the couch, his long arms and legs hanging off the edges. He hears me and sits up, suddenly conscious of himself.
I laugh "You're acting, strange. Stranger than usual, I mean" I sit next to him and notice he's put The Exorcist on. My favourite.
"Billy, I know I said that I wouldn't but I-"
"You wanna talk about it, I get it" I interrupt, my leg starts to shake. "I don't know what happened, I just really wanted it to stop so I-"
"Is it because of me? Because of what I did" I hear his voice crack, that sensation in my chest returns then my head starts to pound, my skin itches and before I realise I'm scratching at it. Blunt nails, scarred skin. My mind remembers the night before, Stu and I..
"No, don't ever blame yourself" I snap, harder than I meant to "Sorry. I don't understand what's going on here but that doesn't mean I don't like it. I just don't, get it. But that's not what I wanted to stop" I can't bear to look at him. I ignore the itch on my arms and pull down the sleeves of my sweater over my hands "I'm not right, Stu" now my voice breaks, I feel my chest burning.
"No,no no. You're fine Billy, we're fine. I mean, I know people won't all agree but it's nearly the millennium man. Things are changing" He grabs my arm and pulls me closer, forcing me to look up at him, our lips only a few inches apart. The kiss from the night before, getting easier to remember and taste. Ah, fuck.
I yanked my arm from him "No you don't get it, no one will" I stand up, putting some space between us and start to pace. I shove my fingers through my hair, breathing. Counting.
Stu sits before me, looking bewildered, his bright blue eyes such a contrast to the dark pits mine are.
"I'm not normal, okay? -and please don't interrupt. My whole fucking life, I have known I'm different. A monster. I accepted it, I never gave a shit about anything and anyone. And I was okay with that because I was alone. But then you, you and me. This." I gesture at him and then me "It changed everything. Suddenly, these cruel thoughts and plans.. scared me for the first time. I don't want to lose you.. or hurt you" I turn to face him, biting my bottom lip. His face, looked sullen, confused.
"What exactly are these thoughts man?" His blue eyes stare into the darkness of mine, like a black hole absorbing all the light that gets close enough to it. How ironic.
"I want to hurt people" Tell him the truth, coward. "I want to kill someone Stuart" I dropped my head; I couldn't see his reaction. The thing I was most scared of, no the only thing I have ever feared was losing him. His rejection, realisation of the deviant I am.
I hear him stand and take one step towards me, his hand gently lifts my face back towards his and his lips touch mine. This is so much better than what I remembered. I automatically lean into him, I feel my breath catching as one of his arms goes behind my lower back, holding me. The other hand feels its way under my shirt, getting lower.
I pulled back, he stumbles forward. "that's your response?" I shove him, it barely moves him. I go to shove him again, but he laughs which catches me off guard.
"I'm so fucking psyched that you like me" his blue eyes look like they've increased in brightness as he smiles, that big goofy grin.
"But, I just told you that I think I'm a psychopath" I look down at the floor, Is this is a dream? I dig my nails into the palm of my hands, no.
"Pscyho,smycho. If you're one, I'm one."
"It actually doesn't work like that" I run my fingers through my hair, as if it will bring me back to reality. Maybe, I've finally snapped. I'm having a psychotic break or I'm actually still in the hospital and this is some coma-induced dream.
"Who do you wanna kill? Himbry? Oh wait! How about that whore Casey Becker and her douche boyfriend? I hate that guy!" He's practically vibrating with excitement. "Wait- have you seen the mannequins in my attic? I've been having these sick dreams man, they're twisted!" he makes a turning motion with his finger next to his head, his eyes ecstatic.
I sit back down on the sofa and put my head into my hands. This wasn't exactly the response I was expecting.
