Villains ➵ bill skarsgård a.u.

thirty five

"She's never done that before." I stated.

"Maybe she just thought it's about time."

I try to think about his preposition, Who's to say Ericka didn't just suddenly realize everything she's done to me since I moved in was absolutely horrible? It wasn't that difficult to see, even her parents are aware of the way they would treat me. But even then, that was even more far-fetched than the idea that uncle Ron was once manipulative like her. This wasn't her. Defending me was never Ericka. If the world was somehow on the brink of collapse and the only way for it to stand back up again is by supporting her cousin, she would still never do it. Because I know her too well. She wasn't the kind of girl who stood up for you when everyone tripped your feet, instead, she would push you down even more and laugh along with everyone else while watching your demise. That was her. Not this. So to answer Bill's preposition, absolutely not.

As much as I admired the idea she just spontaneously realized she's a horrible person like what everyone has been trying to tell her for the past five years, it didn't seem right. Nothing has been right since I got out of the hospital, and I thought the peculiarities would end with the shit I've been seeing and feeling, I didn't know she would be one of those oddities. "No."

"No?" He looks up at me again, eyebrows furrowed as he swallowed his soup.

I've always thought Ericka had some kind of a grudge against me that no one really bothered to clear up, so over time it just grew and grew until one day all just exploded into a pit of rage. At least that was how I saw it. I didn't necessarily spared time to brood over why she's doing this to me and why she likes it. The last time I did that, blood pooled through the water in my bathtub and I almost cut through a vital pulse, because I didn't know how to answer the question. I just grew familiar with the fact she hated me more than anything else in the world, for it has been like that since the day I was forced to move in because I didn't have anyone else in Minnesota. Nonetheless, even if it seemed like it, even if it seemed like I'm just letting her step all over me like I was a piece of shit, it was never just that. "I don't think I've properly mentioned before how much she hates me. The two of them."

"Your cousins?"

Cousins a foreign word I never used to refer to them as; because they gave me a reason not to. They weren't my cousins. And even though our blood say otherwise, cousins aren't supposed to ruin each other's lives. Other than that; I clearly remember the day Ericka pulled me into a corner at school and told me she didn't want anyone to find out we were related. I thought it was only because she didn't want to be associated with such a loser, however, it didn't end there. She told people on purpose we weren't related so she could spread rumours about me without anyone guilt tripping her. And it worked, because a week later, people were sneering at me in the hallways. Even Jumper and Georgie had proposed the conclusion either of us were adopted. I wasn't for if I was, Uncle Ron would've told me by now.

"Yeah." I looked down to my food, scooping up some soup with my spoon and inspecting the substance. "They kind of like telling people at school I'm a slut and I killed my parents and that I'm a junkie and everyone should stay away from me."

"Why would they say that about you?"

"Because they want to." I muttered. "Just because they can. And people believed them I guess."

"That's horrible." He mused, placing down his bowl and staring at me. It was, and I keep on reminding myself how horrible it is whenever I get the chance. Nonetheless, even if I think about how disturbing it is and how wrong it was to experience such things from other people, not to mention my blood, anger wouldn't really change anything.