Bruised (Patrick Hockstetter)

True Ending

(⚠️ blood and disturbing scenes)

Sunday 8:37am

  When I step inside to the disaster I call home, I quickly grab the cleaning supplies from the downstairs closet and get to work. It's unfair to let my father come home to this mess.

  I start with the blood on the living room floor. I throw some chemicals onto it and dab at it with a rag. Most of it comes out with ease but of course there'd still be pink splatters.

I make my way up the stairs and scrub the stained blood from my floorboards as well as from the tile bathroom floor. I look at the tub and see that it's not drained yet. Jesus Christ how did I not die?!

The water is deeply saturated with my blood to the point where the bottom of the tub isn't visible. I reach my hand in to pull out the plug and my hand comes back coated.

A slight film of the liquid remains once the water is drained. I go in with a rag to wipe at it and it mainly just smears rather than coming off.

I notice I am once again drenched in my own blood. My skin is tight and itchy from the substance that had dried onto my arms in patches.

I turn on the water and watch the bath slowly start to fill. I make sure it's at the hottest setting and step up to my mirror as I wait.

My thoughts were not about the deep circles under my eyes or my malnourished looking stature but rather about Patrick.

  I stare past myself in the mirror and picture his long dark hair and his piercing smile standing behind me. The curl of his lips when he grew intrigued by something. I already miss that bastard.

  I think of his perfection. The way he so casually moves and how his hair sits in the same way everyday, framing his face.

  My god. How cute of a love story this would be if he had been normal. Perhaps if he were any different though, I wouldn't be his top pick. He'd have some cheerleader wrapped in his arms and he'd have plans of getting married and having children... Not my Patrick though.

  Splashes of water drop to the floor and I snap my head to see an overflowing tub. I run over and shut the water off before pulling the plug to release some water. When it reaches a good height I press the plug back into the drain.

  After using a rag to soak up the water on the floor I step into the bath and sit down in the hot water.

  My skin burns but I don't care.

  I grab a razor and bring it to my skin. I meant to just slice myself up a bit but as I zone out and think back to Patrick I realize what I had carved were letters instead.

P.H

  Just as neat as the one Patrick wrote. His words ring in my mind and I can't find a way to pull myself out of this trance.

'M'lady you will soon learn that actions have consequences'

'You're going to end up killing yourself ya know'

'I think I love you...'

The last one squeezes my heart the most.

  His initials repeat themselves on my skin this time on my arm instead.

  My painful thinking is finally interrupted by the sound of sirens speeding down the street. It would've startled me more if I hadn't known they'd be coming.

I knew the police would be after me. If not for Patrick's murder, certainly for arson. In my mind I also knew that I'd be dead either way. That phone call to Bev was when I really visualized my fate.

  Blood flows steadily into the hot water. My cold body melts deeper into the tub and I try to keep my mind at ease. I should know too well by now that my mind will never be at ease until my heart comes to a stop.

  I bring the razor up again and continue what I started. I start to feel weak once my thighs are covered but I press on and start covering my arms too.

He is mine and I am his. He is mine and I am his.

  As my arms fill up with his initials, my hands can barely be lifted. My heart has slowed and I start to see stars. I finally drop the razor into the tub and let my arms sink. I feel so much pain and yet so much peace at the same time.

  My body will surely be a sight to see.

  Patrick firmly thought so. Hours later when he had found me, he laughed to himself and found that he'd loved it. His initials were what had killed me. It seemed symbolic to him in an, I may not have held the razor but I still killed that bitch, sorta way.

  He felt overjoyed. He had had the last laugh in the end. He had mentally destroyed a person to the point that they'd gone mad and done his bidding.

  When Patrick had decided he was done with me, he left the house and didn't utter even a word to anyone else. He hadn't called the police as he knew they'd find me eventually. Them or my father that is.

  I'd also assume the police will find me before my father will. I can't remember when he said he'd be home next but my absence will sooner be noticed by the guys in Bowers' gang. My poor father will have one less thing to worry about.

  By now I can barely keep myself awake. My body is limp and I can't move a muscle. Patrick would have loved to be a part of this, I thought.

  I replay images of the past few weeks in my mind. At first I see the visions clearly and I keep myself focused, but as my life seems to slip from me, they grow dimmer and more blurry.

  With my very last breath I picture Patrick one last time and mutter the words 'I love you' to no-one.

  My eyes shut and my body grows heavy as the embrace of death takes hold of me. My body is no longer mine. It instead belongs to this small town of Derry and more importantly, it belongs to the earth.

—————-

That's it lovelies. It may not be the best ending but it's an ending. There is one little extra chapter but this is officially the end of the actual storyline.

Thanks for all the reads and please please give me suggestions for future stories. 💕