𝑳'𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑳 𝑫𝑼 𝑽𝑰𝑫𝑬: The call of the void.
L'appel du vide is that tiny voice that tells you to jerk the steering wheel just to the right and take a flying leap off the ledge...
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After your parents' divorce, you and your father mov...
ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: depictions of child abuse, animal cruelty (patrick hockstetter is his own warning)
-Bigmouth strikes again • The smiths- 01:43 ━━━━●───── 03:13 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮
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𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 wasn't in a good mood that day, to say the very least. His dad had dragged him early to school for some reason. He didn't know why, and he didn't care. What he did know is that it disturbed his routine.
He usually woke up by his dad's noisy way of getting ready for work - groaning from the living room, where he slept, and he'd demand his morning beer. If he even bothered, Henry would eat something as he waited for Belch to pass by his house to pick him up - a farm located at the outskirts of Derry. He'd get on his seat - which was of course, at the front, and they'd talk shit. Like they always did, although Henry chose most of the time to remain silent, always too moody in the morning. On the ride they would blast music, driving recklessly around town while the townsfolk would shout curses at them to turn the damn volume down.
But not today. And he was pissed. On the way to school he was resting on his seat with folded arms, looking out the window and refusing his eyes to meet his father's.
When he arrived he was about to wait at the parking lot for Belch and the others to arrive, but his old man shot him a glare, and he instantly knew what he meant. With his head low, he reluctantly walked up the stairs, turning his head around and seeing his oh-so great son-of-a-bitch dad watching him like a hawk, his stoic and hateful eyes hiden behind his round sunglasses.
How much he wanted to fucking punch him right then and there, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't want to admit it, but he was weak against him. He could never manage the courage to stand up for himself, proving his point in being a paper man.
To his utter luck, he was seen by the headmaster, not managing to sneak past his office. He was given a lecture about his attitude and lack of presence, as expected.
When he was finally let to go, his immediate next destination was back outside to meet up with the others. It was the time they usually arrived, anyway. Ten minutes before the first bell rang and they had to attend their homeroom class.
"What the fu-" Just as he was about to walk outside the building he felt someone collide with his chest. If the many and unnecessary nuisances until now wasn't enough, this instantly managed to form a vein on his temple as he clenched his fist. Today was his unlucky day it seemed. He stopped himself from punching whoever it was just as he met the girl's gaze.
They both shared the same look of surprise. He studied her from head to toe, from the way she styled her hair - which looked somewhat messy - to her slightly parted lips and unironed clothes.
