The Bubble

Part 1: Hell House

"You're so full of shit," Freddie glided his glasses up his noise and squinted his large, green eyes. "Your mom would never let you do anything like that!"

"Don't be such a pussy Fred!" Wax snapped. "Come on man, tell us, I want every detail."

Wax and Freddie were Limb's best and only friends. After Limb's dad left his mom when he was six her nightly routine rapidly went from cooking warm, hearty meals to downing a bottle of vodka a night like clockwork. Not long after, he was left with absolutely zero social skills, leaving his only option being known as "that kid" reading comics alone in the back of the classroom. As a result of that he was heavily teased and bullied all throughout grade school. Fred and Wax were the only people kind enough in the entire school to talk to the kid. 

Every day after school, the trio raced their bikes to Limb's backyard, where the tool shed belonging to his dad stood. They made it into a cave, their home. Abandoned Christmas lights swayed along the perimeter, movie and band posters sprawled over every empty space on all four walls. There was an old, dusty twin sized mattress that belonged to Limb years ago against the wall furthest from the door. The floor was cushioned by stolen bath mats and towels. The majority of seconds they spent together, were found in there.

"She was in the bath tub right, eyes closed w-when out of nowhere," Limb slowly extended his hand above his head. "His claw comes out and nearly slashes her to death."

"Fuck that's so hot," Wax said shaking his head. "Did you see anything else?"

Limb quickly shook him tiny, pale face from left to right in response. 

"Don't be a fucking perv Wax," Freddie looked above the rim of his glasses with rosy cheeks.

"Bro, but do you even have a dick?" Wax barked.

Freddie and Wax not only looked unnatural standing next to one another,  but they also nearly hated each other. Freddie Gray was a short bag of bones, with curled tangerine hair that matched the freckles on his nose. He had glasses that took up half of his face and always wore the same thing: his Metallica shirt and suspenders. Wax was the exact opposite. He had smooth, coffee skin and stood at almost six feet tall which was about a foot and a half taller than the rest of the boys in the eighth grade. He was muscular and very good looking, although the racist pricks in North Carolina wouldn't agree if a gun were held to their head. His real name is Gregory Jones, the nickname Wax came early on in the friendship, from the time he spilled a burning candle all over his lap and floor of his mom's living room. The incident left a patch of scarred skin on his right thigh and even worse, a beating from his mother. 

The two only hung out when Limb was there to be their referee. Limb Avery was a very unique kid, probably because he had to grow up and take care of his mom for most of his life with no real father figure telling how to me a "man". But besides that, he had jet black hair that was thick and came to a dead, straight stop just above his eyebrows which were thick and bushy. His eyes were dark green and his skin glowed pale, frosted ivory. He looked like a vampire and acted like one as well. His idea of fun was staying in his barely lit room in the basement, reading comic books or sneaking in horror films from the video store down the street after his mom either drunkenly passed out on the couch or left for work at the supermarket on Ray St. 

"But by far, the best death was when the guy, the guy  got sucked into his bed a-and buckets of blood spat-" Limb was interrupted by Wax's forced, dramatized yawn in attempt to show his disinterest. 

"I'm sorry but the only reason guys watch horror movies is for the bloody, naked chicks am I right?" his tone was serious. He was often the first to make one of the other two feel like less of a man than he was.