That Bowers Girl

Page 38.

I walk in the door from the night before. I ended up staying with Beverly at her house. I'm pleased I can say I actually have a real friend... a girl one at least!

"(Y/n) where the hell have you been? I waited all fucking night!" Henry's voice booms throughout the house. His boots making each step he takes unnecessary loud. I put my hands up in confusion. "You told me to stay somewhere else. You guys were camping." Henry turns red faced. "Yea, we were camping. You were supposed tjo come with us! Who told you some bullshit like that?" I pointed straight at Patrick who is trying to hold his laughter in.

Henry turns back and glares at his friend. "Who'd you stay with?" I look back at Patrick watching his face move through emotions. "A friend." I say trying to move past my brother and go up to my room. As I pass him he grabs my arm tightly. "What friend?" "Henry let go." "Who the fuck did you sleep with you slut?" He yells at me pulling my arm harshly. "NO ONE!" I yell yanking my arm back and running up the stairs.

I throw my bag on the floor and slam myself on my bed in tears. Even when dads not here I still have to deal with Henry. As my tears flow from my eyes knocks on the door become present. "Go away Henry." I yell stuffing my face back into my pillow.

My door opens and footsteps come to stop at the edge of my bed. "I told you to go away!" I sit up throwing one of my stuffed animals at him, but it doesn't hit Henry... it hits Patrick.

He picks up the small bear and waves it around. "Aw, how cute." I roll my eye huffing. "What do you want?" To my surprise he sits on my bed and passes the animal back to me. "He didn't mean it. He's still drunk." "Still doesn't mean he should do it. I have to deal with dad. I don't need Henry barking up my tree too." Patrick shrugs the bag he carries slung loosely on his shoulder. "Just needed an okay, not your life story." I scoff. "Why'd you even come in here?" "Henry made me." I cross my arms and lay down again. "Just leave." Patrick chuckles moving his bag as he stands up. "My pleasure." His lanky figure disappears past my doorway.

Why is he so mean to me? I've never done anything to him, but he acts like the worst person ever. I roll onto my side finding what might be my answer. A notebook. An old heavily drawn notebook with the initials PH on the front. Did he leave this on purpose? I could open it and 20 spiders could come crawling out. Maybe it fell out of his bag while he was sitting down. He would've taken it if he knew it was here.

I flip open to the first page with horrified eyes. Could he really be this dark? We all knew Patrick was messed up a bit, but I never imagined it to be to this extent!

I closed my door locking it as well. Then I snuggled up in my covers flipping and reading the pages with my eyes. The deeper I go the more my eyes open as doors and the images and words fill my brain poisoning it.

I woke up to yelling and screaming, and as my eyes open falling on the sight of my white curtain blowing in the wind I see my window open. I didn't leave my window open. I never do! I reach under my bed and try to find the baseball bat I keep stored away, but alas I found nothing. A jingle of bells ring within my closet followed by a giggle. I stand up and inspect the sight for a few more seconds.

The giggling continues, along with the bells. "Pst. Come on (y/n). Come on and play." my door pulls open a few inches revealing nothing. Until little feet tap upon the floor.

Tap

Tap

Tap

A 2 foot doll races out of the closet. Her features torn away with each step. Becoming decrepit and molded. The stain dress turns brown and eaten with holes. The giggling continues and the little doll jumps on me.