Villains ➵ bill skarsgård a.u.

fourteen

I was sat in geometry, attempting to lend my ears to the man in front of the white board in front of us despite not feeling like it, my left arm dangling from the arm sling attached to my shoulders. Our real professor was absent, probably because of the rain that had turned into hail outside the school, and there were small blocks of solid ice in the school parking lot. A couple of students had already slipped from it. There were no traces sunshine today, the heavens concealed by thick grey clouds, muffled thunders emitting behind them. A usual scene in the town Hillside before the long summer.

I have missed the rain; the feeling of it pouring into my face and the tips of my fingers as I stood across the road, looking up at the dark sky. If only I could do that right now; but unfortunately other than the fact I was stuck inside the walls of my classroom, I still can't get the cast wet for Uncle Ron had already reminded me repeatedly this morning. He reminded me so much in breakfast, I could still hear him saying the words in my ears. He was furious when I told him I got it wet going home yesterday.

In fact I've noticed lately after the incident which caused my arm to break, he was beginning to act like my father, which is no surprise for they're brothers. My father was a year older than him. They had the same nose, so it's not easy to hide the resemblance.  I remember, Connor was the one who would persistently chastise me about being clumsy when I was a kid, and my mother would always give him explanations such as I was just a petty child. Uncle Ron was doing the same, but of course he's not my father. I guess he already is, after all of the things he's done for me. I couldn't be more grateful and it wasn't like I could blame him for being so worried about me.

As selfish as it sounds; I was worried about myself too. I was worried about a lot of things. Sarah, that guy creepily standing by the trees yesterday, the series of weird events that happened right after that. They all bugged me while I was tucked underneath my bed, staring at my ceiling and counting hours. I couldn't sleep again. I didn't know what has gotten into me inside the bathroom. All I could remember was feeling like people were stuck inside my body and they couldn't get out. I could recall the feeling of burning on my skin and I wanted to peel it off to get it over with. It was endless.

The whole night I remained thinking about the girl I saw in my mirror who looked exactly like me and how she convinced me to cut myself. I was so close to losing it, I didn't even notice how petrifying it was now that I'm thinking about it. She was probably just a figment of my imagination, or I was just really desperate to give proper myself a reason to hurt my skin so my head began making up things. I have never been more determinated to do such a thing. It felt like a necessity. Perhaps that time when I found out my parents died, but after that I did it mainly because of emotional distress and personal entertainment.

It was ironic that I had this sick fascination over the sight of blood for a long time now, yet I'm terrified of everything else. It was saddening. I would rather see blood on my skin than in others because I knew I deserved it. That has been my mindset ever since I was twelve years old and anyhow I've learned how to value myself and give rational reasons to why problems existed instead of directly shoving them all into the back of my throat. Nevertheless, I think stuff just hadn't been the same since I went into the hospital. And I keep on linking everything back to Hillside Cross Station because that was where it all started. I know that was where it all started, I could feel it in my bones.

I'm beginning to dive into this unhealthy obsession with it, and the possibilities that could happen within it's walls. And how Sarah is probably in there, after that horrid nightmare I had last night. Everything went back to that stupid fucking building. Although I promised myself I would never go to that hell hole again. The thing was, I have this weird thought in my mind bribing me to to go back, which is a ridiculously absurd idea. There was no way I'm stepping foot inside there again, even with the protection of daylight. Even just thinking about it makes me want to puke, what more would it do once I'm there?