WOUNDS ♚ henry bowers [it]

t e n

I was stirred awake by the sound of gun shots. One, two... it would stop for a while, then it'd start up again. Henry and his goons, I thought. Probably just practice shooting at some bottles or something. Getting out of bed, I stretched high, standing on my tip-toes.

Reading the time, 11:02 am, I decided to try calling Richie again, but first I had to check in to see if my mom was home by now. Or if she was still out stumbling drunk. I checked her room, no sign of her there, then went down to the living room. There she was, passed out half way lying on the couch on her stomach. Her red lipstick was smudged across her face and her black, tight dress hung to her skin. Her slowly graying dark hair looked like a complete rats nest.

I shook my head and reached for the telephone. It rang for about thirty-seconds, but there was still no answer. I hung it back up and started upstairs, reaching my room. As I pulled out my clothes to wear today, I heard three shots ring off in a row. Then a loud, muffled voice. Henry's dad. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I knew it wasn't anything good.

. . . . .

I sat outside in the backyard on my porch-swing after eating, debating with myself if I should go over to Henry's or not. I wanted to talk to him, get him to open up and tell me about yesterday, about everything, but I also didn't want to take the chance to run into something with his dad or even Victor and Belch. I know for a fact Henry would never tell them about what happened between him and I yesterday (or anyone for that matter), so if I were to just show up out of the blue in front of them, it wouldn't end nicely.

I made up my mind and decided to just go. I had to talk to him, I couldn't wait any longer. Jogging off my porch and across the field, I came to the small sliver of forest between our houses. I tried not to make too much noise, just in case. As I neared the house, I first checked the driveway to see who all was there. The blue Firebird wasn't there, meaning Belch isn't here and Victor probably wasn't either, but there was also the chance that Henry was gone with them. The old sheriff car is, so Henry's dad was here. Even if he isn't here, it's worth the chance; and if Henry's dad opens the door for me, I'll just tell him I was here for Henry and hope for the best.

My heart thudded in my chest like a hammer hitting a nail as I walked up the porch steps. I didn't hear any yelling, so that was good. My eyes landed on the door, it was cracked open maybe an inch or so. I took that as a bad sign, but pushed forward. I put my hand on the door and slowly pushed it open.

My eyes widened in horror at the scene. Henry stood next to his dad, asleep in the recliner, with his pocket knife held close against his dad's neck. He had a torn look on his face, one between rage and confusion. I was in disbelief as I looked at the TV, a woman surrounded by kids yelling 'kill him, Henry'. Then I saw the clown behind all the kids, his face held an unsettling grin. It was up to this.

"Henry!" I ran over to him, and he jumped in surprise, turning toward me with fright, the knife still in his trembling hand. Thankfully, he hadn't clicked the button that ejected the actual blade. "What are you doing?!" I quickly stepped in between him and his (still sleeping, somehow) dad, blocking his path and making him look at me.

"I-uh-I," he stuttered, then he dropped the pocket knife and it landed on the floor with a thud. Out of nowhere, the TV just shut off. I grabbed his hand and stormed the two of us out of his house, shutting the door behind us so his dad didn't wake up.

I didn't let go of him until we were all the way deep into the woods and out of sight of anyone, especially his dad. "What were you thinking?!" I yelled at him, throwing his arm out of my grip.

Henry still was in complete shock and couldn't create a logical sentence, "I don't- I don't- um- know." His voice was shaky.

"You don't know? Are you fucking serious right now, Henry?!" I was so angry with him, I was positive my face looked like a tomato by now.

"I don't know, Taylor! Okay?! I just- ugh." He reached up and rubbed his temples out of frustration, looking down at the pine-straw covered floor.

"Henry, I just almost saw you murder your father, a police officer. Do you not understand how much trouble you could've gotten into?" I tried to relax my voice, not to get him anymore upset than he already is.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Then why did you do it!?"

"Because, Taylor! Look at me!" He held his hands out, pointing to himself. "I'm a fucking monster! This is what I was meant to do! I was born to be a killer, that's why I think the way that I think! That's why I do the things that I do!" He screamed, glaring at me with hateful eyes, but behind all that hate, I could see the eyes of someone that just wanted help. The eyes of a person longing to be healed. "I don't even know why you're trying to help me in the first place, so why don't you just do what everyone else does when they see me and run away." He finished off with a roll of his eyes, and turned away from me.

"Henry," I said softly and reached out to touch his arm.

"I'm serious, Taylor." He whirled back around to face me, a stern look on his face as he pulled away from my reach. "Just go..." His eyes fell, "I don't want to end up hurting you too." He whispered, and my whole body seemed to squeeze in grief.

"...You won't, I know you won't." Tears that shouldn't be there began to well up in my eyes.

"But I will Taylor, I always do. That's why my mother left me and my dad, because I'm a fucking horrible person." I briefly remembered back to the time where I heard him and his dad fighting, and his dad screamed out something about how 'she left because of you'.

"You're wrong, Henry. It's not you, it's your father."

Henry shook his head, "No. It is me... Why do you think I bully your friends? Huh, Taylor? I do it, because I didn't want this," He waved his hand between himself and I, "to end up happening. I've always liked you, Taylor. The moment I first saw you, I got these feelings that I've never felt before. Feelings that I don't understand. So I thought that as long as I pick on those losers, you'd hate me, and never would want to even look at me... I guess I failed at that, like I fail at everything in life. I couldn't keep myself away from you, and now I'm gonna be the one to end up hurting the one person I actually care about." His voice broke as I stood there in utter awe.

I didn't know what to say, I couldn't think of anything to say, but I could think of something that I could do. So I did it.