Better than me.[bowers gang]

Chapter thirteen: clutch

•WARNING: VULGAR LANGUAGE, ABUSE, FIGHTING, SLURS, SELF HARM TRIGGER, MENTION OF TROUBLES WITH FOOD•

"I really hope you're good at lying.." Victor stammered as he clutched his arm harder. Henry wasn't the best liar, he wasn't as good as Patrick when it came to lying. "Mhm, yup.." they stepped up onto the small porch together and Henry took a deep breath before mumbling "fuck we're dead.." under his breath then ringing the doorbell. Victor's mother opened the door and you could already see her face drop to a pale white, her eyes got wide. "VICTOR WHAT HAPPENED?? WHAT DID THOSE DAMN KIDS DO TO YOU AGAIN??" She exclaimed as she grabbed him by the ear and dragged him inside. "Mom! Stop it..! I just fell out of a tree..!" Victor tried to defend his friends even after one of them may have broken his wrist. "hm. okay. You need to rest for a few days. I don't want you hanging out with these hooligan friends of yours for a bit.! Now get your ass inside." She scolded him before Henry could say a word, Victor nervously waved goodbye to Henry before being dragged off inside by his mother. His mother shot one last angry glare at Henry before shutting the door in his face, he slowed turned around then bolted his way back to belch's car. "Oh she's maaaaad.." he said as he climbed back into the car. "Well obviously she's gonna be mad! Her kid just broke his wrist. You guys are stupid sometimes.."

Patrick sat quietly in the back of the car as he stared out the window at passing trees. The bruises upon his face now forming in black and blue splotches, Henry glances into the rear view mirror and looks at Patrick. He frowns a bit. "Maybe I shouldn't have hurt him.. or called him a fag.." he thought to himself. Henry glances away quickly before he gets all emotional, "nah he deserved it." He thought again. "Do you want me to just drop you guys off at your houses since.. ya know.. you two seem to be in a fight right now." "Yeah sure." Henry mumbled. He sat with his arms crossed and his feet up on the dash, he did everything he could to fight back the temptation of looking at Patrick. But he also dreaded the sense that he had to go home to butch. All he hoped is that he forgot about weights day.. Henry hated every second of weights day. His father didn't want him to be fat as he said it would look ugly and his son must be fit, he also kept Henry on a specific diet so he could be more "manly." Most of the time Henry just threw the meals right back up after he would choke them down, Butch didn't know about what Henry did after meals and Henry hoped it would stay that way. Henry was used to an empty stomach at this point, he just ignored it. Some days he gets food, other days he doesn't. It all depends on how nice Oscar is feeling I guess.. Henry grew more nervous as they approached the house. He knew he wouldn't be able to call Patrick if something happened this time.. Patrick wasn't happy with him. Belch approached Henry's house and stopped to let him out. "Catch you later, man." Henry gave a small wave as he exited the car and began walking up his dirt driveway. Patrick placed a hand up against the window and watched Henry go, he let out a sigh. Disappointed, the boy slowly slid his hand off of the window and faced forward. He had a lot on his mind, "does Henry actually care about me or am I a waste time." "He doesn't care." "He doesn't love you." "You're just a faggot." His thoughts were driving him insane and they wouldn't stop. he hated feeling so sick like this, he said I love you so he must love him. Right?

Henry quietly walked inside and found his father passed out on the recliner chair with the television blaring, this was normal. This was a usual, Henry tiptoed his way into his room and slowly shut the door. "Thank god he's asleep.." he talked to himself quietly. Something still felt off to Henry, something wasn't sitting right and he couldn't pin point it. Henry gave up on trying to figure it out but instead started to settle in. Henry wasn't happy but he wasn't exactly upset, he was in between. Not bad, not good, just fine. He slid his shirt off and set it on his dresser as he wandered over to his bed. He flopped onto his back and stared up at his ceiling, he frowned a bit again. Patrick wouldn't leave his mind. "Maybe love is just overrated.." he laughed a bit to try and convince himself. "I don't even like boys." He laughed again. Henry thought about some stuff until he became tired, he was just gonna turn in early for the night. Henry rolled onto his side and looked at the speed limit sign on his wall. "Hm.. I remember when I got that." He mumbled to himself. "Me and Patrick stole it off neilbolt street a few years ago.. we were stupid fuckers." He sighed a bit. He began half regretting how he hurt Patrick, the feeling of guilt and regret made his heart sink deep into his chest. He sat up quickly and clutched the dog tag necklace around his neck, he closed his eyes and tried to focus his breathing. "you don't feel guilty." He thought to himself, and he thought again. "He isn't worth it. You're not a faggot." Henry opened his eyes again and stared at wall in front of him. The imagine of him and Patrick in the van came back to him again, Henry shakily let go of the dog tags and raised his hand up to his lips. He pressed two of the tips of his fingers lightly against his bottom lip, tears welled up in his eyes. the taste of Patrick's lips still held onto Henry's even if it had been hours since they kissed, that feeling of them stayed. "I'm s..such a freak. I'm a f..fucking.. f.. ..FAGGOT!!" The tears spilled down the sides of his face in salty waterfalls. Henry began sobbing into his hands as he couldn't hold it in anymore, Henry felt like he wanted to hurt himself more than ever before. He found himself wanting to do this a lot, sometimes he did and other times he didn't. Henry lowers his hands and moved one to the opposite side of his body, Henry clenched his teeth as he dug his nails into his side and began dragging his hand slowly across his ribs. The tears came into Henry more rapidly now as the pink marks began to show up, the droplets of blood formed across the scratches as Henry dug his nails into himself harder. Henry repeated this cycle until his finger tips and side were dripping with his own blood. He slowly removed his hand from his side and stared at it, blood was stained to his fingertips and palm. Henry slowly stood up but clutched his side again, just to hide the scratches from butch if he was awake now. Henry crept out of his room and quietly shut the door behind him, the boy stepped down the hallway quietly and shoved himself into the bathroom. He shut the door quickly and began rummaging through the cabinet above the toilet, "med kit med kit med kit.. god damn it where is it?!" he sighed in defeat. Henry walked over in front of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror, "maybe I should try harder.." he whispered to himself as tear droplets ran down his cheeks. He felt as if he was a burden to everyone in his life, he felt worthless to a point of no return, But this was a usual for Henry Bowers. Most of the time he just wanted butch to be proud of him.. it never really happened though. "God damn it henry. You're a fucking mistake." He scolded his reflection and placed his hands on the sink. He tightened his jaw in an attempt to not lose his cool, he wanted to lash out and break something. "Fuck you." He mumbled to himself. Henry stared at the purplish bruising on his nose again, he began to find everything about his face that was flawed. To him everything looked hideous, always. In reality.. Henry wasn't ugly at all. He looked just like his mother Henrietta, He barely resembled butch and he was glad he didn't. Henry shook his head and blinked quite a bunch, he saw his face shifting. "What the hell??" He touched his tear dried cheek just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He blinked a few more times but his face kept shifting, he backed up into the wall with pure terror. Henry broke eye contact with his reflection.. but he couldn't contain himself from looking again. He saw that same damn clown that nearly got Patrick in the woods. Henry's lips quivered in fear and the fear struck him so bad he couldn't even scream. "It's not real. It's fake. It's fake. It's fake!!" Henry repeated to himself and closed his eyes tightly. "It's not real.. it's not real.."

He looked up and the image was gone, no more clown, no more fear. Henry felt a wave of relief pass over him but not all was okay. He turned off the bathroom lights and shakily turned the bathroom doorknob, Henry had completely forgotten about the scratches left on his side and how he wanted to patch them up. He was too scared to remember. His mind was scattered and everything felt like it was spinning and swirling all around. He rushed back into his room and shut the door quickly, locking it just in case. Henry climbed into bed and attempted to sleep, hoping the thoughts would subside. He had enough of Derry's bullshit tricks for tonight.