bowers gang preferences & imagines

p.h; gone

this was requested, so I hope you enjoy :)
I tried my hardest lol
*SUICIDE TRIGGER WARNING*

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The new girl in town, y/n was a complete and utter trash mouth, with a dark sense of humour, and a bright smile. She had moved to Derry a month ago, her family trying to find somewhere where she could get away from all the darkness that surrounded her life.

Patrick Hockstetter was stood at his locker with the rest of his friends when he saw her enter the school, she walked past them with her head down, but he still felt like she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, and he'd seen a lot.

"Hey, Y/L/N, get over here" Henry said too her, Patrick knew what was coming next, and he wanted so badly to help her, but he was too afraid he would bruise his reputation.

"What do you want henry, I have to get to my class too get an education, is that word to hard for you?" She said, rolling her eyes at him. Patrick snickered to himself, which she noticed, because she looked at him and blushed.

"Listen here, bitch. I run this school, don't give me your fucking attitude. You've already got a target on your back for me" Henry spat at her, clearly taken aback by her personality. It intimidated him.

She flipped her hair and walked away, flipping him off before heading to math class.

She sat next to Richie, someone just like her. She befriended the losers club, told dark jokes too them when the teacher would talk about geometry. Patrick admired her from his seat 2 rows across from her.

Victor nudged him in his side. "You've got heart eyes for the new chick?" He asked, jotting down the occasional note on his somewhat blank notebook.

"No, maybe just a quick fuck for me" Patrick laughed along with Henry.

Nobody was aware he wanted her to actually be his. He would do it eventually. Break away from his habits for this girl he was falling hard for.

"So, y/n, do you have your eye on anybody?" Beverly asked y/n one night after school while they were in her room flipping through magazines.

"Yeah..kind of. The guy that hangs around with the Bowers gang, with the longish black hair? I'm pretty sure he hates me though" She replied, flipping another page over.

Beverly looked up at her friend. "Patrick Hockstetter?" Y/n nodded. "I guess that's his name" she shrugged.

"I wouldn't get mixed up with him, he's bad news y/n" Beverly reassured her, trying to keep her safe.

"I told you Beverly, he literally hates me" y/n replied. Even though she was having difficulty even believing her own words.

Y/n went back to school the next day, heading to math class, before someone gripped onto her wrist, spinning her sound to meet his eyes. She gulped. Patrick Hockstetter.

"Hi, um, I'm Patrick. I think your uh, pretty?" He said, slapping himself mentally. He wasn't used to being in love. He was completely oblivious to actually wanting a girl for something other then his pleasure.

"Oh, thanks. I'm y/n" she said, nodding at him.

"Would you like to come over to my house tomorrow?" He asked.

"I mean, my friend told me I shouldn't get mixed up with you" she shrugged, feeling pity in her heart for him.

"Fine, I thought you were different, slut" he said, his words even hurting him. Why would he say that to her?

Her eyes filled with many emotions, confusion, sadness, anger. She stormed into the room and took her seat next to Richie, whispering something into Beverly's ear. Patrick felt the hurt in his heart, being so mad at himself.

That night y/n went home, stepping into her bathroom, about to take off her mascara when the clown appeared in her window. She rolled her eyes, honestly not scared.

"Can you leave so I can see myself, thanks" she said to the figure, leaning her head in her hands.

"Now, now, y/n. I've come to help you get revenge on that Patrick" it replied, she sighed.

"I don't care about him" she said, even though she did, and she was hurt by what he said.

"I know that's not true" it snickered, and she felt an anger take over her body.

"Can you fucking leave now, smartass" she sighed again.

It suddenly opened its mouth, and she unfortunately stared right into the dead lights, the creature closed its mouth and smiled, as the girl started crying.

*graphic, sorry*

Questioning her actions, She took out a gun her dad had owned from the locked safe in her room before heading back to the bathroom.

She reloaded the gun, pointing it at her head, shooting a bullet through her skull as the tears streamed down her face.

*******

at school the next day, Patrick noticed she didn't come. He felt guilty, even though he figured she was just sick or something.

"Hello class, some sad news came into us this morning, y/n /l/n commit suicide last night, we will have a moment of silence for her before home room" the teacher said, coming into the room.

Patrick felt tears fill his eyes up. Suicide? Now he felt horrible guilt. Did she kill her self because of what he said yesterday? He hoped and prayed not.

After the dull class was over, Beverly gave him a look, and if looks could kill, he'd be dead.

He walked up to the teachers desk, and she looked up at him surprised.

"Hello, patrick. Is everything alright?" She asked him.

"Yeah, um, is y/n having a funeral?" He asked her.

"Yes, it's an open casket, in 2 days" she smiled at him warmly.

"I know she liked you patrick, she wrote about you in some work she did, and the way she looked at you couldn't be missed" she said, and his heart warmed up. She wrote about him? And he called her a slut.

"Yeah, I liked her too. Thanks Mrs. Douglas" he said, before walking out of the door and heading home, not being able to handle any more classes.

Two days came, and Patrick had got dressed up in some semi-formal clothes. Making his way to the funeral home.

People there were weeping, as pictures of y/n were placed around the building. She looked happy and glowing, he smiled to himself.

He walked up hesitantly to her casket, her pale skin was glowing. Her eyes were closed, so nobody could see her beautiful e/c eyes. Her fingernails were painted black, and her beautiful lips were coated with a red lip stick. His tears were dropping down his face onto her hand, and he reached down to brush them away from her cold hand.

He made his way back to his seat, crying harder then he'd ever cried before, as the service started.

"Our daughter, y/n l/n was a dark humoured, bright, sweet girl..."

And Patrick sat there, crying, and feeling extreme guilt, thinking he killed the girl he loved.

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I hope this turned out how you wanted it :) I tried my best, and sorry if it wasn't up to your standards!

The heat in my city is back, wish me luck.

emma❤️