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       I opened my eyes and saw that the sun was setting. It wasn't that dark but the sun was definitely going down. I was laying down on the ground and on my side, my backpack next to me. I sat up and looked towards the field and saw that it was empty. What the FUCK!? My throat felt sore and dry and I wanted to cry. I cursed myself for even thinking about crying. I don't cry. The last time I remember truly crying was when I broke my arm as a kid. I was climbing a tree with Nathan and I slipped. It all happened so fast, I didn't know I had fallen. Not until I felt the sharp pain and heard a loud and piercing scream, only to realize that it was me that was screaming. I was screaming and crying because I had broken my arm.

"Do you think Gretta is real, too?" I jumped at the voice that came from behind me. I turned my head and saw Patrick smoking a cigarette. An empty pack was next to him. Did he really smoke them all? Wait. Doesn't matter, Nicole. I grit my teeth and clenched my hands to control the shaking. Shaking with anger. This guy was nuts! Not my kind of crazy. He was just plain fucking crazy. He messed with the wrong one.

I pushed myself up and looked down at him. He was sitting against the wall he had slammed my head on. He had his legs pulled up towards his chest and was resting his elbows on his knees. He wouldn't look at me. He exhaled the smoke and then ground the butt of his cigarette on the floor. "I asked you something so answer my fucking question." He sighed and leaned his head back and stared up at the sky. "I'm real. You're real. That much I know. But you said that you were going to show Gretta that there can only be one. So, do you think she's real too? Or is it only us?"

What in the actual fuck is wrong with this guy!? Real this, real that.

I scoffed. "You're real? You think so?" I laughed and shook my head. He looked up at me and glared. He nodded once and then clenched his hands into tight fists. I noticed that he had a long scratch from his earlobe to his neck and dried blood on his shirt from the bloody nose he had. A bloody nose that I assumed I gave him. At least I did some damage before he knocked me the fuck out. Whatever.

"You're not real, Patrick. You're fucking dead." I spat as I ran toward him and started hitting him. Who did this guy think he was? He cursed and started dodging my punches, sometimes failing. I was pleased when I felt my fists come in contact with his face or shoulders. He grabbed my hands and stood up quickly. He wrapped my hands around my own waist and held them there tightly. Once again, this scrawny guy proved to be stronger than me. I struggled against him and then started to kick him. Tried to kick him. He held me against the wall and grinned mockingly as he watched me struggle. That stupid grin only pissed me off more. I groaned and tried to yank my hands free so I could wipe that damn smile off his face but it was no use. I sighed. Clearly, I was not going to win this one. I clenched my jaw and leaned my head against the wall. "So what now? You gonna choke me again?" I wanted my voice to sound tough and vicious but I was out of breath and panting hard.

"No, I'm not going to choke you again." He loosened his grip on my hands and I took advantage of that. I quickly sprung my hands loose and went to hit him again but he rolled his eyes and grabbed my hands once more. "If you try to hit me one more time, Nicole, I'm going to do far more than just choke you. Do you understand?" His voice was quiet but yet very honest and threatening. The look in his eyes showed that he meant every word he said. I slowly nodded. I might as well cooperate with him. He was taller, stronger, and more crazy than me. He smirked. "Good."

"What do you want from me?" I asked quietly. I mentally kicked myself. My voice sounded so fucking weak! I looked weak. On my first day of school too! I was glad no one else was around. They would've seen me struggling and knocked out on the floor. He'd better keep his mouth shut about this and not tell anyone how he bested me. Just this once though.

There Can Only Be One || Patrick Hockstetter Where stories live. Discover now