"All Is Hell"; The House Next Door; (Zak Bagans Love Story)

A Sukey Update.

 It seemed to be years before Zak and I actually got in touch again, but it was only a matter of a few weeks I received a notification on my cell phone from a certain @Zak_Bagans from twitter. I opened the tweet, my heart racing. “@Allie_34 I finally found you! It only took me long enough! DM me your number!” I laughed softly at myself and noticed he also followed me for me I could DM him. I shot him a DM with my number, and locked my phone before I looked up to see Patrick walking through the door to the bedroom. His dark hair cut shorter than usual because of his weekly hair-cut he went and got, stubble playing on his chin from his lack of shaving. He didn't bother getting dressed yet, a pair of flannel pajamas hanging lower than usual, boxers playing on the top of them, shirtless.

“Morning, babe.” Patrick smiled, putting his lips on my cheek. I smiled at him, closing my eyes and sighing before replying.

“Morning.” I smiled at him as I watched him half waddle over to the coffee machine, grabbing a cup off the hanging rack, and pouring himself a cup before sitting down across from me. I looked away from him, over to the house next door. It was against silent. It scared me, the house did. I didn't understand how someone could move into that house; knowing the dreaded horrors that happened there back a long time ago. Patrick’s eyes seemed to follow mine.

“What's your obsession with that house?” Patrick asked, “You never even told me what happened there.” I shrugged, my eyes falling back to my cup of creamer-filled coffee. I tapped the top of the cup with my fingertips, before looking up into Patrick’s ice blue eyes.

“I don't know.” I replied, “I blacked out, and the next thing I knew I was home. Zak refuses to tell me what happened.

“Demand to be told.” Patrick replied softly, licking his lips before continuing, “I mean – I don't mean to sound like a douche-bag or anything – but isn't it your right to know? I mean, not as I believe in the paranormal – but what if something followed you home and threatened you and I?” I didn't reply, just shook my head and watched Patrick slowly take a sip of his coffee. I looked back down at my own, and was ready to pick it up before my stomach started turning and my mouth began watering. I stood up and ran to the bathroom down the hallway. “Allie?” Patrick called, chasing after me. I crashed in front of the toilet, throwing my head over the seat and emptying the contents of dinner last night. Patrick was beside me from the second I started throwing up, rubbing my back and peeling my hair out of my face. “Shh.. you're okay.” Patrick whispered as I breathed hard into the toilet. Patrick reached up and flushed it, handing me a hand-towel from beside the sink, “This is the fifth time this week, Allie.” Patrick whispered.

“I know.” I choked out.

“Did you take that test I bought?” Patrick questioned me. I shook my head slowly, wiping the residue of the vomit off my mouth and putting the towel on my lap before laying my head on the cool bathtub. “You need to take it Allie.” Patrick replied.

“I don't want to know,” I said, “I just don't want to know.”

“We've been trying,” Patrick replied, taking my hand in his. “You can do this.” I stared at him for a moment, he didn't talk. His smooth lips twerked up in a small smile, his eyebrows faced down in a concerning way. “We can do this.” I let out a small sigh, and didn't say anything back. Patrick stood up, his feet padding his way into the kitchen, before he stopped inside – and after rummaging in one of the drawers, he came back with the little box. He gave it to me, and turned around – and walked out the door and closed it.

I watched the door close, and eyed myself in the mirror of the bathroom. My hair was ratty, from the lack of brushing. I was wearing a tank-top that was white, and a pair of pink cheeta print shorts. It was warm in the house even though, and I looked like utter shit. I sighed, standing up – reading the instructions on the back of the box and pulling my shorts down.

It'll be negative. I know it will.

Hell it has to be negative.!

Just then, my phone beside me rang. I picked it up, glancing at the screen with my free hand. It was a text, from an unknown number – which was really suprising to me.

Hey! It's Zak! I'm in from Vegas for a few weeks for a convention. Pick me up from the airport @ 3 please? Loves you Allie!

I rose my eyebrows at the “I love you” part. I realized that it was probably just a general matter, I mean – we did go through a possession together. I still really wanted to know what happened that night at the Exorcists house. Maybe I could get it off my chest and finally ask him.

I texted him back a few works agreeing and I'll see him then, and then I put my phone back on the counter, I put the pregnancy test out from under me and sat I on the counter, and cleaned myself up before standing up. I stared at the test, realizing that I still had minutes left.

Jesus Christ.

I didn't want to have a kid with Patrick.

I didn't want to spend the rest of my life wit h him. I loved him – but I didn't love him.

I let out a sigh and looked at my phones clock. 1:45. I had another five minutes to wait for this dumbass test.

Five fucking minutes.