Villains ➵ bill skarsgård a.u.

ten

ADRIANNE

°°°

My senses came into consciousness, my body dragged away from the deep slumber I seemed to have been previously in. The transition from sleep and reality was subtle enough, but still internally painful like how it has always been for me. I slowly opened my eyes, realizing I was staring into the ceiling of my bedroom, a hint of pain persistently shooting up on my left arm, neverending, giving me the familiar urge to just lay in bed all day and never get up; which sounded heavenly. Nonetheless, as much as I'd want it more than anything, I had to be pulled away from my delusions.

Just as I've turned my head to the side to wallow in pain, I saw my phone sitting by the nightstand, as well as the piercingly bright light outside my window that poured into my room. I squinted my eyes in reflex, my hand covering my eyes for added protection from the glare. I gasped in surprise when my phone suddenly went off, leading me to the sound of bells constantly ringing in a loud tone. I removed my hand from my eyes and reached over to my bedside table, grabbing the device and immediately sliding the screen to turn off the morbidly annoying sound coming from it, my eyes simultaneously going over the top part of my screen where it flashed; Monday.

I placed back the phone onto the nightstand, a sigh escaping my lips as I rub my face in frustration. I've been too used to the satisfaction of getting to stay in bed for a week, and I don't think I'm ready to move on yet.

I forced myself up from my mattress, kicking off the thick sheets of blankets from my feet, feeling the cold november air against my skin and I was already dreading the idea of showering, but it has been a day since I did so and It's utterly necessary. Once I got up completely I went over to my bathroom and closed the door, stripping off my pajamas and shoving them into the laundry basket before stepping into the shower, the tiles feeling like ice against my skin which brought huge a wince into my face. It was already fucking cold and I haven't even touched the water yet.

Once the water began pouring into my skin, I've seem regret every single decision I've made to lead up to this moment. Speaking of which; It has been a week since that incident of me going into Hillside Cross Station to find Ericka's camera, which thankfully I did and I didn't even know I would ever. Also a week since I've last seen Arthur, or any of my friends for that matter since; I've been out of school for about a week now as well, because of the obviously large cast wrapped around my fractured arm, and the concussion my head earned based on the doctor's findings when Uncle Ron brought me to the hospital.

Right after I've gotten the chance to go home that night, I had to walk under the rain in Arthur's blazer, doing everything I can to protect Ericka's camera from any damage the rain could give it. The moment I stepped into the porch, the door was locked and I had to repeatedly ring the doorbell before anyone could open it for me, and surprisingly Ericka was the one who did, and I never thought I would ever feel grateful towards her after everything she just made me do. She even had the nerves to ask me what the fuck happened to me and I just shoved her camera I to her chest and ran to my room.

Let's just say I'll never do that again. Uncle Ron might've not noticed me coming home at four thirty in the morning, but he did chastise me the next day and I had to sleep in with the sensation that my fucking arm is going to fall off. Eventually the next morning, I had enough bravery to tell him an elaborate lie such as; I've fallen off stairs and bumped my head and whatnot and thankfully he believed it. I even questioned my sanity as to why I had to lie about his daughter's evilness, but I was too pained to fight off her immature justifications so I digressed.

And as much as I've been immensely grateful for the past week that I didn't do anything but stay in, at the same time I was so near from murdering myself. I mean, who wouldn't? All week all I've been in is the walls of our home. Other than the fact I have to constantly watch Ella and Ericka go in with those annoying grins on their faces as they talked about petty stuff, I had to watch my phone spontaneously go off everytime with texts right here and then from Georgie and Jumper and Sarah. For that one week I also had to deal with bathing like a toddler with a broken arm that needs to spare her cast from getting wet. That was probably the least of my worries, but showering has been a nightmare.