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The shade falling from the trees hardly saved from the heat.
You stop when you spot a grocery store nearby.
-It's too hot, should we go buy some water?
Before Hockstetter could finish listening, he was already heading towards the store, and you were still standing in the shade, under a tree. Taking a notebook out of her bag, she made a kind of fan out of it to cool down somehow. Pulling her hair back into a low ponytail, she noticed that he hadn't been there for a long time and reluctantly moved forward, but Patrick had already left the store with two bottles of water.
-Let me guess, you didn't buy them, did you?
-You're so smart. - Pat smiles, holding out a small, icy bottle of water.
The guy just shrugged his shoulders and you continued on your way in silence, which caused some discomfort. You decided to speak first because you still didn't understand Patrick's desire to walk.
-Why would you come home with me?
-I just wanted to go for a walk. I thought so, because we've crossed paths so many times, but we've never had a good conversation
-If you hadn't pinched me in front of everyone and didn't always call me by your idiotic nickname, maybe communication would have developed.
-It's already formed, isn't it? - Patrick takes a few small steps forward and turns his back to the road, keeping his eyes on you.
-I don't have a choice, you're not going to leave me alone.
Hockstetter grinned at your hand with the burn.
-We have double burns, it turns out
Patrick found it funny, and you even thought there was a glimmer of delight in his eyes. He thought there was nothing wrong with that, so he didn't even think to apologize, considering you were to blame, because your instinct for self-preservation didn't save you in time.
-How did you come up with that? I'm amazed, Hockstetter. You make me think that all the rumors around Derry about you are true.
-Then you're stupid to come with me at all. - Patrick tilts his head to the side, returning to his previous position, and walks slowly so that you can keep up with him.
-Make up your mind already.
-You have cigarettes. Won't you share it?
In the distance, you could see the red, familiar roof of the bridge, and you just exhale painfully, turning your head sharply in Patrick's direction.
-Where the fuck are you going, do you even know that it's far from our street, or did you do it on purpose? - ignoring the request of a former classmate, you walked faster, inspired at least by the fact that it was relatively dark inside, and therefore cool.
-I wanted to talk, but we still have time to get there. - Hockstetter stopped, stretched and continued to walk after you, towards the bridge.
Once inside, you sat down on the asphalt, leaning against the cold wall, and exhaled softly, putting a bottle of barely cool water to your neck. She lowered her head, looking at her hand.
If you go home, you will have to travel exactly the same distance as you walked, if not more. You didn't have the energy to fight with Patrick, so for a while you just ignored his presence.
He stood casually nearby, kicking pebbles, occasionally glancing at you, as if he was waiting for something.
When the body cooled down, and the wind that passed through the bridge from behind passing cars gently blew over the heated body, you still raised your head to look at Patrick.
-Take it. - Taking a pack out of your pocket, you hand Patrick a cigarette. He sauntered over to you, took it, put it between his lips, took out your lighter, and lit a cigarette.
-Are you going to return it? - Hockstetter turns around in disbelief , looking into your eyes, as if you just said something stupid.
It was the first time in your memory that you could look at Patrick like that, even if it was only for a few seconds, but they were too long, which was enough for you. What was more striking was how calm he was, even thoughtful, which was unusual for him. Or, it was all about the Bowers Gang, which to some extent negatively influenced him.
-I'll take it back, I lost mine.
You already opened your mouth to express your displeasure, but in the end you just exhaled heavily, resigned to the fact that you would buy a new one.
Hockstetter nods, agreeing with your words, and silently smokes a cigarette. You would have lit a cigarette for company, too, but you didn't have the slightest desire yet, being in your thoughts. Patrick wasn't verbose either, and he looked like he wanted to say something but didn't dare.
-I haven't told anyone, but I have a strange feeling.. - as if reading your mind, Hockstetter pulls you out of your thoughts, and now you're focused on him and his words, because it's not every day you talk to a school psycho (even though you've denied it in every way) in such a surprisingly, almost calm environment.
You nodded slowly, making it clear that you were listening, and your hand reached for the pack of cigarettes to take one out. Patrick turns the chair around, lighting a cigarette for you, holding his gaze on your face for a few seconds, but after that his gaze turned back to nothing in front of him.
-I want to tell you because I feel like something is going to happen. And why do you?.. -The guy looked at the smoldering cigarette, asking himself a question.
I guess you seem a little more real to me compared to everyone else. But you're still far from that. Hockstetter turns his head in your direction, now openly examining you.
There was nothing superfluous in his gaze, not even interest. It was rather an indifferent look, not seeing anything important and interesting in front of him.
-I haven't told anyone, and I don't think I ever would.
You stare at him uncomprehendingly, ready to get up and go on your way, even though you knew it was pointless to some extent.
Hockstetter's thoughts were blown away, and you chuckled under your breath, realizing that you had misled him, or even pushed him away, but a hunch popped into your head.
-..Are you trying to tell me that it's all true? -You almost hiccuped at your words. The agonizing silence made my whole body goosebumps, shook violently, as if there was a terrible frost outside, while you silently looked into each other's eyes. The question didn't need an answer, it was a kind of confession for Hockstetter, which usually happens when the killer feels that there is no forgiveness for his actions, and even more so there is no way to start all over again, because he himself gave up on himself. You felt it, but you always denied the essence of Patrick because you weren't close to him. Yes, you saw inappropriate behavior, but you thought it was a period that everyone was going through, but it turned out to be much worse than anyone could have imagined.
Hockstetter notices the change in your face, and now he's wary, too. You get up from the asphalt without even shaking yourself off, moving away from the guy, as if this could calm you down and make you safe, but a sticky feeling of fear took over with you. Patrick didn't look like such a harmless idiot anymore, you saw a serious personality, the personality of an established murderer.
-Almost everyone, many people don't know something. - Patrick gets up from the asphalt after you and takes a few steps towards you, and you stand rooted to the ground.
You backed away from Hockstetter, looking into his eyes. I hoped to see regret in them, but there was none. His gray-green eyes were almost calm, and he immediately grabbed your shoulder so that you couldn't pull away.
-Let me go. - You cut it off firmly, without raising your head.
Patrick frowns, hugging you to him, it was like a hug, but at any moment you expected that a folding knife would be in your back, or your throat would be decorated with a cut.
-I've always really liked you, you stood out from the others, and even killing animals didn't give me as much pleasure and interest as the thought of me picking your flesh with a knife. You know, you're not a stupid girl, you can't eradicate that from me, I live by it.
-Step back, Patrick. Please.. - your voice starts to tremble treacherously, tears come to your eyes, but you controlled yourself as best you could.
There was usually always a spark in Hockstetter's gray-green eyes that expressed the usual excitement, a desire to mess with you, but now, when he squeezed you in his grip, all the signals at once began to ring in your head, piercing the alarm. To run. Run, run, run and don't turn around.
-It's a pity that things are turning out this way, but everything is too complicated. And you can't be real. You can't..
The guy pulls away, not letting go of you, pressing his fingers firmly on your shoulders. Here it is, the very moment.
Adrenaline surged in your blood, you miraculously twisted out and took off.
The blood was boiling in your ears, you were running as fast as you could.
Patrick's height played a big role, and it wouldn't have been difficult for him to catch up with you, almost at the same moment you heard his angry screams as he ran after you. You're racing, trying not to turn in any direction. You know the city well, and almost all the nooks and crannies, but rushing like a wounded antelope, while a veil of tears covered your eyes, blocking your entire view, you barely make out the road, eventually falling on the asphalt, breaking your knees in blood.
-Damn it. - The pain signal has not yet reached the brain, due to the adrenaline rush, but attempts to get up are not crowned with success. Patrick's screams can no longer be heard, but that doesn't mean it's over. A plot is already forming in my head, as Patrick comes up from behind, grabs you by the hair, and cuts your throat, and only on the third attempt do you manage to get up, dragging along the road.
Your nervous system malfunctions and you start crying, smearing mascara on your face. You can see the street and the house in the distance, but you're not sure if Hockstetter won't jump out from around the corner, holding a folding knife in his hands.
You managed to reach home, but even within its walls you didn't feel safe, not now that this has happened to you, and Patrick knows your house.
There was no one there, which made you uneasy, because if you have to spend the night alone, it's not the best idea.
The sun was setting, going below the horizon, you close and check all the locks several times, and only after that you go up to the bathroom to treat and bandage the wounds. All the procedures took you about an hour. After getting out of the shower, you're still sobbing anxiously, glancing at your home phone.
First you need to call your parents, and then call the police.
The horn sounded twice, and there was no response, but a familiar car was parked in the courtyard. For a moment, you thought it was Bowers' blue car, but you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw your mom getting out of the car.
It took a long time for you to tell your father and mother the whole situation in detail, breaking into tears, in order to finally decide that you will go to the police station in the morning.
After going to your room, you couldn't sleep for a long time because of the aching pain in your knees. There were periods when you were shaking, as if from the cold, or you were hot, forcing you to throw off the blanket.
The hands of the clock were already showing the second hour of the night, and with great effort, you began to fall asleep.
Due to a sharp blow on the window, your heart starts pounding fast, and for a few seconds you stare thoughtlessly at one point before getting up and going to the window, which was not the best decision.
Your lighter was lying on the windowsill, and under it was a piece of paper on which it was written: "I'm sorry that I didn't finish what I started."
Your body feels like it's being electrocuted again, and you don't sleep until you have to go to the station. You put your lighter in your dresser, but you decided to take the note with you.
Your eyes were red from lack of sleep and shed tears, which made you look depressed and tired. While your parents stopped at the gas station, you got out of the car, deciding to sit on a bench in the shade.
Nearby, you notice a woman gluing a poster onto a pole. When she walks away, you see a familiar face, and you begin to understand everything.
"Missing boy, Patrick Hockstetter, 15 years old"
He didn't come home yesterday. Another missing person who almost killed you, who returned your lighter in the middle of the night.
If Patrick is no longer alive, even if that's not the case, Hockstetter will always remain a sick bastard in your head, from whom you miraculously managed to escape. The secret of which you managed to find out, even if not completely. He opened your eyes at the very last moment, and now it will never be an ordinary bully with a bunch of bullies.
And his loss has brought you, and perhaps many others, relief.
