Living in Derry Maine as a Bowers wasn't exactly a fairytale. Leslie Bowers was just trying to survive since her mom left, leaving Henry and her to their dad's vices. But Patrick Hockstetter happened. And he changed everything.
#1 in Stephen King ❤️...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I dreaded ever coming back home the minute I put my bike up against the house, slowly entering through the front door as if my life depended on it. Dad would have to surely know mom is back by now. People love to talk in this town. Look at that, the sheriffs wife has come running back to Derry! Guess she regretted it. I wanted to believe that. But I was so conflicted. Years. Years gone. Now she's suddenly back? What if this is a form of torture for Henry and I? What if?
"Did your visit with your whore of a mother go as you expected Leslie?" I froze, the beating of my heart the only sound I could hear. The rapidly rising anxiety I felt was unreal and I was practically trembling from his mere tone. I hated the way my own dad made me feel on a daily basis. But he did. And it was utter agony.
"I guess so.... she has another kid. Henry and I have a sister...." He raised his hand in such a commanding manner, ordering me to stop talking immediately.
"I don't care Leslie. I don't care! She left.... She left us. She didn't care about you or Henry. What makes you think she does now? HUH?!" I jumped a little from his sudden scream, seeing Henry slowly creeping down the stairs from the corner of my eye.
"I don't dad!! I don't! But I at least wanted to find out for myself!" I shouted with all my might right back at him in a instant fit of rage. All the rage I've built up over the years towards him, towards her. Towards Henry. Everyone.... I didn't care about the outcome. I just wanted my voice heard for once. Make my own choices without fear. This situation was my own. And I wanted to make my own choice. And that was to get to know Belle. Get to know my mother again.
"Don't think this is some fairytale little girl. You aren't going anywhere with anyone. I raised you! Me! Not her! And it's gonna stay that way!" He simply slumped down in his chair in his fit of rage, grabbing at one of many bottles of beer littering the coffee table in front of him. I wanted so badly to hit him over the head with one, the thought practically consuming me every single day of my fucking life. But I didn't. I didn't because I thought of what could be one day. What I could do. Where I could go. He wasn't worth losing freedom.
"Chill Les. She's not worth all this. She's a cunt. Don't be like her." My eyes widened in pure rage of my own now directed at Henry, hearing the approving grunt from my dad.
"You'll never get it will you Hen? You'll always let him walk all over you, huh? You'll always fear him...." I harshly whispered the words to him before bolting up the steps in quick motions, beyond outraged from how evil this house truly is. I slammed my door shut and as usual, blocked it with a chair as a way to makeshift lock it. I practically threw my camera onto my bed, but the one photo I managed to take today snug in my pocket was practically burning a hole through it for me to look. It brought a little smile to my lips from the mere image of Belle's cute little smile from laughter while Patrick could be seen with a whole mouthful of ice cream. I gently pinned the photo to my photo board, smiling from the actual happy memory that involved Patrick. He was so different today with me. Sure, he was demanding and all. But different.
