WOUNDS ♚ henry bowers [it]

f i v e

Tears streamed down my face as I hurriedly walked through my kitchen to get to the back door that led to my backyard. "I hate you!" I screamed at my mom, slamming the screen door behind me. I jogged off my back porch and past my backyard, that was more just like an open field.

"Come back here, you little cock-sucking whore!" Her slurred words rang through my ears. I ignored her words and ran into the sliver of woods that separated my house from Henry's. I didn't check to look and see if she's following me or not, but by her state it would be almost impossible for her to be able to run, at best walk.

I fell to my knees in front of a huge pine tree, the pine needles on the ground piercing into the skin on my legs. I was far enough into the forest that I was surrounded by trees and couldn't see my house anymore. The morning sun peaked through the limbs and onto the ground, and the morning dew was still stuck to the forest floor.

More salty tears fell down my cheeks as I replayed everything that had happened. How I had first woken up and walked down stairs to grab a bowl of cereal, but only to find my intoxicated mother passed out on the living room floor, a half a bottle of wine in her left hand. Some of it had spilled on the white carpet. That's gonna be hell cleaning up.

I had sighed and walked over to her, preparing myself for the argument that I was probably going to have with her. Obviously, I hadn't prepared enough. I had first took the bottle out her hand and set it on the cabinet, then I went back and tried to wake her. When she didn't awake, I tried to pick her up myself. It hadn't worked, and that's when she woke up. At first she complained about the headache she had, but then when I told her that she should probably go lay down in bed she blew off on me, reaching back for the wine bottle with a stagger. The tears only started when she called me a "slut that I wish I never had".

This wasn't an uncommon thing to happen at my house. Ever since my dad left us for some rich college chick, my mom's fallen into this almost... depressed kinda stage. If she wasn't passed out drunk, then she was stumbling over high on something she took. We argue so much now, it's became a routine thing for us. I try to help her, she yells at me, I take off crying, then after about thirty minutes I go back and she's passed out again- in bed this time at least.

I sniff and wipe my eyes, my red stained cheeks stinging. With a shaky sigh, I lean my head back and look up at the sky through the tree branches and pine needles. The sky always calmed me for some reason, whether it was blue, gray, or dark. I take a few deep breaths and decide that I'm calm enough to head back.

I put my hands on the ground and push myself back up to my feet and, just as I was about to turn around to head back, an object shining in the sunlight caught my eye. It was stuck into the tree I fell down at. It was a knife, a pocket knife to be exact. I reach for the handle and pull the blade out of the tree bark. Examining it, I turn it over in my hand and notice a big 'HB' is carved into the handle.

"That's mine." A voice says from behind me, and at that moment my heart drops to my ass. My pulse sped up as I turn around to come face to face with the one and only, Henry Bowers.

"I-uh..." I was at a lost for words.

"Just give it to me." He demanded, and I quickly held out my hand, the knife in my palm. Henry snatched it from my hand, but the few milliseconds that his fingers touched my palm, it was almost as if my whole body just melted right then and there. My hand felt all tingly as I pulled it back to my body.

He was looking at me, and I stood there awkwardly, staring back at him. Henry cleared his throat and looked down, "So- um..." I could tell he wanted to ask something, but wasn't sure if he should or shouldn't. "Why are you out here?" Wow, I'm surprised. He's actually being quite... nice. "'Cause of you're... mom?"

I stepped back in complete shock. My eyes widened, "H- how do you know about that?" No one knows how my mom is, not even Richie, the closest of my friends.

He shrugs, "The woods between our houses are pretty thin. If I'm outside, I hear almost everything she yells at you."

My eyes fell. So Henry hears when my own mother calls me a whore, no wonder he probably thinks I'm one. Thanks mom. I nod my head to answer his previous question, and it goes silent again. Building up the courage, I decide to ask him a question of my own. "Why... are you?" Henry looks down at me. "Out here, I mean." Henry's eyes seem to cloud over as he looks behind me, as if he's seeing a memory. Then a flash of pain crosses over his face. I start to feel bad, "Your dad?" His eyes meet mine before he looks away again. When he looks back at me again, his face is scrunched in confusion and I knew his question before he even asked. "These woods are thin, remember?" I give him a small smile.

I see the corner of his lips turn up a second, then it's gone. Henry gulps and walks over to lean against a tree, "You have it easy. Your mom just yells at you, it's not like she beats you." Oh my sweet mercy. He's opening up to me. Henry Bowers is actually opening up to me.

I shake my head, "True, but sometimes I believe words hurt a lot worse than pain does." My voice broke and I felt the tears come back up, but I pushed them down. I can't seriously cry right now, not in front of him.

I look at Henry's face, and I see something there that I've never seen before on him. Compassion. "Ya know, no one would actually believe the things she calls you, right?" He pushes off the tree and takes a step towards me. I wanted to ask him why he's being so kind to me, but I didn't want to ruin the moment, so I kept quiet.

"I mean, it's pretty obvious you're a virgin." He smirks, all the compassion that was there a minute ago completely gone.

I scoff, offended as a blush rises to my cheeks. "And why would you say that?"

"Come on," Henry chuckles. "The only guys you ever hang out with are those losers. And they couldn't make a move on a fucking apple." Another step forward.

"How would you know one of them did, and I just turned them down?" I liked this side of Henry. The side where he could actually be a good, funny, decent guy, without the snarky, uptight, attitude.

One more step forward. "Why would you turn them down?"

"Maybe they just aren't my type."

Henry took a last step forward, and now we were toe to toe. I could feel his hot breath fanning against my face, see every bruise and cut that was healing on his face (including a brand new small, purple bruise below his right cheek bone that must've been put there last night or early this morning). I could hear my heart beat thud in my ears. My whole body felt like it was on fire, I was nervous, but excited at the same time.

"Then, what is your type?" Henry whispered, his eyes (that were filled with some emotion I couldn't really recognize... desire maybe?) looking deep into mine.

You.

I didn't know how to, nor did I want to answer him, so I was more than thankful when I heard my mother's voice echo out. "Taylor, honey, please come back!" She slur/yelled out. Henry and I both looked to the left, where my house was through the woods. I took that opportunity to take a step back from him.

"I have to go."

Henry also took a step back and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah," his regular stoic face came back, "I should go too."

We then parted ways, him to the right and I to the left. As I made my way back home through the trees, only one thought lingered in my head.

What the actual fuck just happened?