CHOKEHOLD - VANCE HOPPER

☆ ACHE ☆

also srry for not updating on vance's pov lately but the next chapters will be solely vance dw btw vance doesn't know bruce is missing

NAWWWW YALL BRADY SAID ON HIS LIVE TAHT HE LOOKED ON WATTPAD BC PPL KEPT SUGGESTING IT TO HIM AND HE LOOKED UP VANCE HOPPER BRO DOESNT HAVE A CLUE IN THE FUCKING WORLF

MY EYES WEIGH SO MUCH. I've cried more than enough but i've have not slept enough.

All I've done is think about Bruce as I stay in bed. I want to visit Mrs.Yamada but I feel stuck. I'm not ready to see her face, the absolute devastation on it. It gives me heart-ache, she should have her son.

I hear a knock. But it's not coming from my bedroom door. But from the front door. I sigh, no one's home but me. My dad took over the GrabNGo starting today, he doesn't want me going outside that often now.

I better hope no one dangerous is at the door then. But then again if they were, I would see Bruce. I make an effort to get out the bed, but my limbs are asleep. Once my body is normal again, I make my way to the front door. I open the door, it's Gwen Blake.

She looks concerned, but also like she has something urgent to tell me.
"I had a dream."
"About Bruce?"

She nods. I let her in.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯
We're sitting down next to each other on my living room couch. My hand is in her palm, and her other hand gently covers my hand. I had realized in this moment I'm more attached to North Denver than I'll ever admit. Gwen is like a little sister to me.

Bruce has a little sister.

I come back to reality when Gwen shifts in her seat. She keeps talking, "Then I saw a man."
"A man? How did he look like?"

"That's the thing. He wore a mask."
I sighed. Fear consumes my stomach to my core, I'm worried we'll never find him. My gaze drops to the floor. I feel like i've been swallowed whole by ache.

I have a head ache.
I have a heart ache.
I have a stomach ache.

Gwen seems to notice the shift in my expression. She holds my hand tighter. She looks at me with a concerned look, worried.
"We'll find him."
"Gwen." I met her eyes, "I know we will. I just don't know if we'll find him how I want to."

Her eyes also drop to the ground. She hugs me, I hug her back. We close our eyes, for almost a moment I feel okay. But it doesn't last long. She slides off, I do the same.

"Cmon, let's get you home." I say in a low tone it almost comes out as a whisper.
"Okay." She days before following me as I get off the couch.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯
On our walk, I check up on her. I ask her about school, friends, Finn. I make sure to take in everything in the moment, analyze every detail. I will never know who else might be gone.

We get to her house, she turns to face me before she walks in. She wave's, her face cracks a small smile but you can still see the concern on her face. I wave back, "Stay safe."
"You too." She says before going inside and closing the door.

I walk off, my hands in my pockets.
"Stay safe." I whisper to myself.
But I wasn't really whispering to myself, but rather to Bruce.

                                     ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯
(BRUCE'S POV)
MY EYES FEEL LIKE THEY'LL POUR OUT MY FACE.
I open my eyes, they feel like they weigh tons. It's not dark anymore, just blurry. I'm trying to gather everything around me, what is real and what is my imagination.

I feel a mattress under my skin. I can barely see the four walls in this room. I smell boiled eggs and the scent of a uncleaned bathroom. I can hear breathing, but not only my own.

Someone's here.
There's someone here.
I'm scared.

I immediately move back. My back hits the wall as I sit on the mattress. My eyes widen at the figure that is a few feet away from me.

The Grabber.

My breath hitches, he notices. He sits at the end of the bed.
"You don't have to worry. Because nothing bad is going to happen here." He says. His tone is friendly, like trying to explain a child what death means.

How could he sit there, and act like he's not guilty? He's not my friend, I don't know him. I don't know him. I don't know him. He's not my friend. I wanna go home.

I don't say anything, I just try to gather my breath's. I feel like he'll come lunging at me at any moment.
He pokes me, "You like soda?"

Everything feels so uncomfortable, these walls feel like their spinning. Everything is wrong.

"Hmm? I'll tell you what. Ima go get you a soda and then I'll come back and explain everything." He says.

His words go through one year and out the other. None of what he says matters. The only thing that matters is my survival.

He leaves the room. I let out a shaky sigh. I can feel my eyes watering. I dig my hands into my hair, pushing it back. My knees are up to my chin.

I'm stuck between these walls. I don't know if i'll ever come home. Physically, I'm here. But I can't help but feel i'm somewhere else. It's a sense of uncanny valley, like I shouldn't be here. Just hours ago I had made a home run. And now I'm feet under the ground.

I will never know if i'm going to see my family again. I will never know if I'm going to live.

No.
No.
No.
I have to make it out. I have to make it out for Amy.
For Y/n.
For my mother.
For my father.
For the past victims.

I stand up from the mattress, I wipe my teary eyes. I try to discover anything that might help me. Anything, that will help. I walk over to the small hall that's attached to the right side of the basement.

There's a toilet, and some tarps. I sigh, what's this good for? I have to think of something, anything. I look behind me, there's a window.

It has bars on it.

                                ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯
(VANCE'S POV)
I HAVEN'T LEFT THE HOUSE IN DAYS.

Days is probably a exaggeration but I don't think my ass will leave here any time soon. Every since I destroyed my, now shitty, room one day ago, I've stayed home. Days are filled with cleaning my room (shocker), smoking, sleeping, and i've replaced watching TV with just being in my mother's presence.

We don't have to talk, even thought most times we do. She's busy sometimes and has to focus, but I still like to be with her. Just in her presence, it's comforting. Knowing she's there, knowing she cares, knowing she loves me.

She hasn't seen my fucking room yet, thank fuck. But now it wouldn't be a problem because i've cleaned up most of the shit there.

The reason why my room is shitty, has been on my mind the most though. And I fucking hate it. I don't hate her though.

And that's the thing, she doesn't love me. But I think i'd still love her. She made me feel things and can't be unfelt or not thought about. It's a strong feeling that I never knew that could happen.

Seriously, I feel like I'm going crazy. I'm still in love with her. And how could I not be? Out of all the people in North Denver to show appreciation to she chose me.
Vance Hopper.

And when my mom puts love songs on, I enjoy those shits. I enjoy fucking love songs, because I relate with it. The way the beat goes, it follows the way my heart beats when I'm with her. I always found them corny and awful, but these feelings make me do things that I wouldn't normally do.

She makes me feel like I have wings and I could soar to the sky or some shit. I am in the sky when i'm with her, I float.

But now, i'm drowning without her.