Ghost of You // Vance Hopper

I

Wednesday 1978.
__________________________________

"You fucking whore! I'm gonna kill you!" Moose stopped in his tracks as he watched you sprint past him at full speed carrying his newly bought Tic Tacs, flipping him the bird as you do so.

Not like he could do anything about it anyway. You were off limits, as people at school said. Nobody was allowed to touch you. Not even Moose. You loved messing with people knowing they couldn't fight back. Robin Arellano was your best friend, and he only had to beat the shit out of one kid to prove that if someone fucks with you, he's fucking with them. He didn't play around. It was his message to the school that if they tried anything, they knew what was coming for them. That kid deserved what he got for landing a punch on you and embarrassing you in the hallway. Yes, you did steal his bike, but you returned it the next day unharmed and still usable! But of course, he got mad and tried to beat you up before Robin intervened. You two were inseparable, like the other's missing piece to their puzzle. You did the shit talking and messing with people, while Robin, he did the actual fighting.

You weren't good at it, and you were self aware of if, so you relied on your best friend to do it for you. Nobody fucked with the duo. Ever. So it surprised you when Moose decided to start a rumor about you. He told his friends that you were afraid of Vance Hopper. The infamous Vance Hopper. Of course, he wasn't lying, but it had you absolutely fuming. Soon enough, the rumor spread like wildfire around the school, and by now, maybe even Vance himself knew it. Maybe Moose was just bored and had nothing better to do, or maybe he could easily see through your act, since he was so good at getting under your skin. You had to admit though, that bold move he made was worth an award.

You? Afraid of someone? It shocked many students to their core. But if the rumor had been about anyone other than you or Robin, they would've believed it immediately. But you weren't gonna take it.

Robin wasn't going to beat Moose up for making some dumb rumor, so you decided to take matters into your own hands, in your own way.

On that Wednesday afternoon, you waited outside of the convenience store behind the corner for the boy to walk out with his newly bought candy. It's not like you were going to eat it anyway, gross. As soon as you heard the bells at the top of the door jingle, indicating he had left, your plan was set into motion. You zoomed past Moose as he closed the door and slipped the candy out of his hands effortlessly, dashing for your house that was only a couple blocks away. You can make it, you thought.

Sprinting down yards, you jumped over bikes and toys that laid on the grass untouched, up until you saw a lawnmower and developed an idea. You slowed down and kicked it back, sending it rolling toward Moose. It was in his way already, so it did slow him down enough for you to get farther ahead.

"Come get me, dickface!" You cackled, waving the Tic Tacs in the air as you whipped past each house. They all looked like blurs with how fast you were running, but you soon enough grew tired. Cramps set into your stomach and your lungs burned, screaming at you to stop and take a rest behind someone's house, but you couldn't. Not now. You were so close!
"You see my friends over there? They're gonna fuck you up good! Your game is coming to an end!" Moose shouted from down the road as he stopped to take a breath. He watched as you laughed at him and shook the container of candy, unaware of what was about to happen.

"Giving up so easily?" You laughed, watching Moose's doubled over state and how he attempted to catch his breath.

Without a warning, you slammed straight into someone standing into the road. Someone rather large. He stumbled back with a groan but quickly regained his balance.
"Oh, fuck." So he wasn't bluffing. You met the glare of a tall boy with black hair and freckles. You called him Freckleface. A hand tangled in your hair before pulling tight, locking you into place.

The other friend to his left stood there aimlessly, waiting for a command. Moose then shouted at him for the Tic Tacs and he got straight to work. The redhead scanned you for them until his eyes landed on the candy held tight in your right hand.
"Don't make it harder on yourself, Doll." Freckleface's grip on your hair tightened and forced you to give up the Tic Tacs. They fell onto the cement road with a weird 'clack' and the lid popped open. Out spilled at least half of the container, which angered Moose.

He barked at his friends to bring you to the abandoned lot just down the road. Next thing you knew, you were being practically dragged to the abandoned lot.
"It's a damn shame your little fag friend isn't here to help you, isn't it? Now he won't get to see your precious face when we're done with you." You were harshly shoved, and you hit the ground side first. You could've sworn you heard a snap in your shoulder as pain shot out from it. You groaned and tried to scream, but a bandana was then shoved into your mouth.

"Can't have anyone hearing, now, can we?" Freckleface chuckled and bent down to your level.
"This'll teach you not to steal from us again." You didn't even try to get up, because it would just make matters worse for you. All you could do now was lay there and endure it. Endure the pain.

With every passing second, you grew more hopeless that Robin was gonna come out of nowhere and beat their asses. He wasn't. He couldn't. He couldn't be here for you, so you had to be brave for your best friend.

"—Hey, why isn't she listening?" The redhead crossed his arms and Moose stepped forward menacingly, lifting a foot and stomping on your outstretched hand. You let out a muffled scream of agony and retreated the arm quickly as white invaded your vision and a rock was smashed over your head.

_

Despair. Defeat. That's all you felt in that very moment you regained consciousness and remembered where you were. Blood dripped down your face from the gash the redhead left on you with that rock. You had a busted lip earned from Freckleface who kicked you when you decided to get cocky and tell them to kick you harder.

Spoiler alert, he did.

Your fingers stung like hell, and you had no idea how long you'd been laying there, but it had to have been nearly 15 minutes. All of the boys were gone, and they left a gift beside your head, a memory of what they did to you just minutes prior. A Polaroid picture of you and Moose. Memories flooded into your head at that very moment, things you very deeply wanted to forget. They'd taken pictures with your unconscious body, claiming it was some sort of trophy they would bring to school the next day. You heard it all, but couldn't do anything about it.

_

"Shit man, you brought a camera too?" Mason was taken aback when Steve pulled out his Polaroid camera. The boy positioned himself on top of your back and leaned forward, yanking your head up with your hair before he took a picture.

Now it was Moose's turn. He picked you up and placed you in his lap, also holding your head up with your hair. He made a thumbs up sign with one hand and lifted your shirt with the other to show your bra, a new cut right below your chest was shown. He carved his first name onto you proudly and showed it off in his picture.

Lastly, Mason took his turn, standing up and positioning you on your knees before he pointed to his dick and pulled your hair tight.

"Okay, let's go before anyone sees us." Steve took his camera from Moose and shoved it into his backpack after taking one last picture of him licking the blood off of your face and holding up a rock symbol. That one, that's the one he would leave for you. Moose set the picture down next to your head and laid you back down on the hard concrete before spitting on your body and taking his leave.
"Whore."

_

God. Oh god, no. Not that. Were they going to show those pictures to the school? You mentally cursed at yourself, but that wasn't your biggest concern at the moment.

Your head had stopped bleeding just minutes ago, but your hand hurt still, so you lifted it. It didn't look broken, just bruised, to your surprise and relief. Now, time for a shameful trip to the convenience store right before closing time.