Joseph Quinn: Imagines

Frenemies | Eddie Munson

School had finished. You dreaded going back home to your father. You knew he'd already be drunk. He became an alcoholic after your mom died and since then, all you get is abuse.

You drove back to the trailer park. You lived next to the school's freak, Eddie Munson. Every night after 11pm, you could hear the loud music he blasted, keeping you awake for hours.
Sometimes it helped drown the noise your father would make when he raged at something stupid.

As you got out your car, you saw Eddie gawping at you. He annoyed the living hell out of you. You gave him a death stare, to which he responded making a strange devil-like face before chuckling away to himself and walking inside.

"Hi dad." You nervously spoke. "Get in your fucking room and clean that shit up Y/N. I'm tired of living in a shithole because of you." He shouted, raising his hand to your face.

You winced at the pain left stinging across your cheek. Running into your room to get out his way. The house was a mess from the empty beer cans and glass bottles smashed everywhere, thanks to him losing his temper every second.

While you were at school, he went snooping in your bedroom and broke every photo frame you had of your mom. He ripped the photos up and left them scattered around. You didn't know where to begin. The only photos of your mom, now destroyed all because of an alcoholic.

Out of nowhere, he came barging in your room. He saw you sat on the ground, crying at the bits of photo you held.

"What did I fucking say, Y/N? You don't have time to sit down crying. Clean this shit up. Stupid bitch." He dragged you to your feet and punched you in the back of the arm. There goes another bruise to add to the collection.

You always wore long sleeve shirts to hide the bruises in public. At home, you showed them off since you knew you'd be getting more and the fact you didn't have to hide them.

An hour goes by and the room is as clean as it can be. You kept the bits of photo that only showed your mom's face. You take the rubbish bag to the bins outside. Thankfully, your father was asleep on the couch so you didn't have to worry about being hit again for a while.

You stepped outside and walked to the bin.

"Y/N." You heard someone call your name. You looked around and saw Eddie walking towards you. "Yes?" You asked.

"Tell your lousy father to stop using our garden as a rubbish dump, Kay? Or you or him will have to clean the mess." He gave attitude. "Whatever, freak." You rolled your eyes and stormed off.

He looked at the back of your arms and saw a few big bruises. He scrunched his nose up, trying to work out how you got them. He snapped out of his thought when he realised you were no longer there.

Your father never cooked you dinner. You'd go days without eating much food or none at all. Whenever he was cooking, you weren't allowed near. Or so you thought.

You got scared whenever he cooked as one time, he got annoyed and burnt you on the stove top by placing your arm over it while it was on.

He only ever cooked enough for himself. You stayed in your room and tried drowning out the noise with some music. It left you with some peace to escape the fucked up world.

You'd cry yourself to sleep, hoping to one day escape this life and move on to the next where you'd be safer.

7am, your alarm goes off. You were always quick to shut it off so your father didn't hear. You got yourself ready and grabbed some toast before leaving for school.

Arriving at school, you walked over to your locker and grabbed your things you needed. You heard the sounds of laughter which caught your attention.

Great, Eddie Munson and his club. "Y/N, have you told your alcoholic father yet?" He shouted out loud. You gained a few stares. You tried ignoring him but he came closer and asked again. "Alright Munson. I'll tell him, now fuck off." You slammed your locker shut and stormed into the girls bathroom.