gonna get burnt • patrick hockstetter x oc

03; rock you up

*warnings/triggers* foul language, mentions of sex
september 22, 1988 cont.
10 pm
i sped down the road, wanting to get as far away from my home— my broken home for that matter. there was no need to run, nobody knew i snuck out. my gut just told me to keep cranking my legs as hard as i could and to push myself to get as much distance between me and the house as possible. i passed by the pretty neighborhood homes occupied by small and large families, the park where all the druggies would go to get high, and the church where mothers would go to pray when their dearest ones have sinned. once my legs couldn't go anymore i stopped. i stopped at derry's junkyard. i've never been to the junkyard before because who the hell would want to spend their time at a junkyard? not me. but saying that it was now 10:30 at night, where else did i have to go?

as i walked in i instantly saw piles upon piles of junk, naturally, and old cars. some were into pieces but some were actually in good condition. the grass was more dead than usual and the air smelt a bit mustier than its previous summer months. i walked towards a rusty red 1970 chevrolet camaro and as i tried opening the door it made a loud squeak. this thing is a piece of shit, i thought— well, no shit rose it was like a decade old and it was in a junkyard after all. i quietly laughed at myself, mocking my own stupidity.

about an hour passed as i slowly drifted away in the comfort of the leather seat. i knew i shouldn't because if i woke up later than maggie and wentworth the next morning, and i wasn't there they'd flip and call the police and say that i 'ran away'. i mean they technically weren't wrong.

i almost let sleep devour me until i got snapped out by the sound of a low voice. "you're not crazy," the voice darkly chuckled, "everyone says that you're crazy when they're actually the crazy ones." i could hear footsteps pacing outside of the car, and i was afraid to sit up and see what the hell this madman was. "he's not real. he never was." the voice hissed again, scaring me even more. "nobody's real. i'm alone. i can't blame myself for doing what was right." the words were slurred and loud. my heart skipped a beat— hell, multiple beats once i saw a tall figure stomp over to the drivers side of the car and pull open the handle. when the door was almost fully open i stood up straight in the seat. the old leather making a weird noise as i stared at shock at the man. he had raven hair and a lanky figure, his eyes almost sinister. it was the most infatuating boy of derry...  patrick hockstetter. "what the hell are you doing here?" patrick asked in confusion, but his famous cheshire cat smile creeping across his plump lips, noticing i was the girl he encountered in the hallway.

"trying to fucking sleep, what the hell are you doing here?" i questioned. i may be out of my element, but i was still going to defend myself. besides, what was poor pat going to do to me? kill me?

well, probably.

"oh i get it, you ran away from home." patrick laughed darkly, almost in the same way i heard him do earlier. "what a bad girl." he finished as he gritted his teeth, smirking.

"i didn't run away. i just needed a break, and if you don't mind, i'd like to go back to taking a nap." i smiled sarcastically, reaching out to slam the door, praying to god it didn't fall apart.

"mind if i join you?" he smirked more now, his frame lingered over me and it was quite intimidating as he was quite larger than me.

"i think i can nap on my own..." i said hesitantly, thinking of how to ward him off. fear crept up my spine at the possibilities of this scenario. "you're a bit creepy." i lightly laughed, trying not to imply he would do something... even though I wouldn't doubt it. i see the way he acts at school and all. always touching girls inappropriately. there's just something there that screams 'creepy' to me.