CHOKEHOLD - VANCE HOPPER

☆ WEAK ☆

listen to change into house flies by deftones

THERES NOTHING LEFT FOR ME TO HANG ON TO.
I miss Vance. That sentence can't fill the sorrow I feel in my heart. It's the only way I can express it, and yet it doesn't do what I feel justice.

I miss every aspect and detail of Vance. His scent, the way it stuck onto my jacket. His voice, he makes swear words sound like they're holy, angelic. His smile, his fucking smile, it makes my heart run around my chest.

Vance glows in a crowd of people. His jean jacket is light blue, and anytime I see something light blue, I turn my head. Every time I hope it's Vance, but it never is.

I don't know how to deal with all this, everything weighing onto me. I know what reality is, but I don't wanna face it. And it's so easy for everyone else to accept it.
Accept the fact that Vance Hopper is Gone.

I didn't even realized it actually, how easy it was every one to be so okay with it. I had gone to the GrabNGo to get a few things I needed for Vance's missing posters, more photos.

While I was grabbing the photos, a saw a few kids at the Pinball machine. They snickered as they wrote on the machine. I watched as they tore down everything that Pinball machine held. The happiness and safeness it wrapped Vance in.
(imagine finneys bully's as the group of boys)

I watched as they walked away from the machine.
"WEAK."
They think Vance is weak. They think Vance, who they were one scared to even look at wrong, is weak.

Vance is a fucking victim, and they just laughed. They thought the fact of Vance being gone forever was funny. All because they knew their sorry asses wouldn't be threatened now. All because they knew they were safe.

Is enraged me, my face heated. They only ever thought about themselves, every single one of them.
The could just sit back and not be affected by this, in fact they could joke about it.

Something in me switched, like every part of me that was drowning, wanted to push down everyone else so I could make it to the surface. I walked over to the small group of boys. They were still snickering, and they looked at me while they did it.

"Hey, looks like he's not so fucking tough after all, right?" One boy asked me.
"Yeah, cause it's so fucking funny that he's gone and you pussy-asses are having a field trip."

"Maybe the Grabber was doing some good for this town. You know Vance was a wreck anyways." Another claimed.

I blinked.
I stared.
I feel my hands shake.
I felt my mouth catch my breath before I lunged.

I closed my eyes.
My hands are sweaty.
I heard a grunt.
I opened my eyes again.

Vance was on the ground.
His nose bloody, he looked uneasy.
"What the fuck did you do, psycho?" He yelled.

I blinked again.
It wasn't Vance, just the boy I was once talking to.
My hand was bloody.
Just like his nose.

His friends backed up away from me.
"What the fuck is your problem?!"
I looked at his friend.
I didn't regret it, not a single part of me.

I shook my head as I stepped back slowly.
"None of this bullshit will bring back Vance!" One yells.

And that did it.
All of it.
I had nothing left to hold me back.
Nothing to make sure I didn't rot.
I would make sure they rotted.

I turn back, I walks towards the boy.
"Say it to my fucking face."
"All this psycho shit wont bring back your dead boyfriend."

I grasp his hair, feeling it intertwine between my fingers as I shove him back into the freezers. Both his friends had stepped away, they started yelling.
But I couldn't, every inch of torment I collected in my heart had filled my action. It spilled out my body as I started harming the boy.

I banged his head against the freezer door, I watched his head leak with blood. My fingers slid away from his hair as I shoved him into the ground. I let the part of me calling out for Vance, call out for brutality instead.

If Vance wasn't here to defend himself, I would do it for him.
I would do anything for him.
Including being held back by my own friend as I try to harm a boy.

I had a small crowd gathered around the store window from the wreck I caused. The whole time I tried to push away from my friend's grasp, but it didn't help.

Because as time went by I was being pushed inside a police car.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯
(VANCES POV)
I CAN ALREADY FEEL HIS EYES BURNING THROUGH MY SKIN. I slowly blink my eyes open, the whole time I look at him. I sit up and back to the wall until my back hits the wall.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."
"Good? Now your just being more of a fucking coward than you already fucking are."

He give me sigh that seems like he's disappointed by my response, "How are your eyes?"

"I don't know, fuck face. You maced them take a wild fucking guess."
"I didn't hold my injured wrist against you, remember? We're even now."
I scoff, is he really serious?

"You hungry?" He asks.
"Wait. Shit, do you have food?"

"Well I can't bring you anything to eat." The grabber says as he stands up.
"Then why'd the fuck did you come down here?" I say as he walks to the door.

The Grabber opens the door and turns to look at me, "Just to look at you."

My stomach sinks, it churns. I feel so disgusted  and I'm not even the one doing this. It feels so cold, and it irritates me. It makes my skin form goosebumps, the hairs stand. I shake my head slowly as my eye brows furrow.

"I just wanted to look at you." He says sternly before shutting the door.
But this time, the phone rings again.

I turn my head around and run to the phone. My fingers grasp the phone tightly as I hold it up to my ear.
"Fuck, don't hang up. Say something! Hello?"

I can here static, but no voice. My body faces the door, still watching it just in case.
"Hello?" I call out.

"Vance."
My body almost gasps at hearing my name from someone else. Someone's there, here, somewhere.

"I need help. Help-"
"I can't help you, but don't hang up."
"What? Why the fuck not? Why'd you fucking call then?"

"To help you."
"Motherfuck-...Can you help me or not?"
"Not physically, I can help you help yourself."

"Who are you?"
"I don't remember my name."
"What? How?"

"It's the first thing you lose when you...you know. "
"Is there anything you remember?"
"I delivered new papers."

Vance could feel his name was just on the top of his tongue. "Wait, shit, I know. Uhm, Billy! Billy. You're Billy Showalter."
"Probably."

"Vance. There's a dirt section of the floor in the hallway where the tile is loose."
"Wait, shit, really?"

"Yes, I tried. If you dig down underneath the foundation, dig up and out the other side."
"Why couldn't you dig up and out the other side?"

"I didn't have enough time, Vance."
"How do know if I have enough time?"

He hangs up.
"Fuck. Shit, Billy? Hello?"
Pure static.
I drop the phone. There's no time to waste, I have to use this.

My only sliver of hope.