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The Downward Spiral of Patrick Hockstetter

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Patrick Hockstetter moved to Derry, Maine in the middle of his junior year of high school. He had been born and raised in New York but an unfortunate event caused the need for the Hockstetter family to move away, somewhere that hopefully they could start over. So a small town is where they went, somewhere most hadn't heard of.

Patrick didn't care if they moved or not, after all, it was his fault they had to move in the first place. He fucked up and now his parents had to pay for it. He sat in the backseat of the family car listening to some sad depressing emo shit, as his father liked to call it, really it was just My Chemical Romance, not the most depressing emo shit he listened to but whatever.

Patrick didn't have friends really and he was fine with that. He liked being alone, he liked to just exist without being bothered. His parents wished he would open up, make friends, but he felt there was no need. He knew he was a downer, he knew people groaned when he was forced to socialize with them. He would stick to drawing and listening to music alone and he was just fine with that.

Its not like Patrick was scary looking, but his appearance was dark. His naturally jet-black hair that was constantly in his eyes didn't help, he hated when people called his hairstyle that emo fringe, he couldn't help his hair was pin straight and just naturally fell to the style that punks would kill for. His naturally pale skin and striking bright blue eyes caused bullies to tease him, calling him a vampire or a Twilight wannabe.

He always wore all black, all his skinny jeans were black, some with rips and some without. His band tees were what you would find in the back of a Hot Topic, the harder shit that most people didn't buy anymore. He had more hoodies than shirts and yet again all black, zip up or pullover, they were always too big on him, he was thin and lanky so everything was usually a bit loose on him, he usually cut thumb holes on all his hoodies, he liked to keep himself covered as much as possible.

 

"Patrick!"

Patrick took one ear bud out, the loud music could be heard, he obviously had turned the volume up as high as it would go.

"What mom?" he grumbled.

His mother was a small thin woman with pale skin, the same blue eyes and black hair, he had gotten those traits from her, but she was shorter than him, she was around five foot three where Patrick was a freaking giant at six foot two.

"We are in Derry", she replied.

Patrick hummed to confirm he heard her and put his earbud back in. His father muttered how rude his son was, he didn't understand his son and he never really tried to. They were complete opposites, he had naturally tan skin and brown hair with brown eyes. The only thing they had in common was their height. Patrick's father was just an inch taller, six foot three.

Patrick picked up his camera, he had a really nice camera, he loved photography and he had an eye for it. His work was always beautiful and dark. He had raw talent that he never really showed anyone except for the anonymous people who followed him on tumblr. They didn't know him and those he knew didn't ever see his photos.

He snapped some photos of downtown Derry, people walking around, some kids playing at a playground, the scenery, and even a dog he saw when the car stopped at a red light.

 


Once they finally got to the house, they all got out of the car and looked at their new home. It was a two story home that looked modernized somewhat but still had that old timey charm. They walked inside the empty house and for the first time, Patrick got to see where he would now be living. He hadn't cared to go with his parents house hunting, as long as he got a room with a window that lead to a spot he could sit on the roof, he was good.


He walked upstairs and checked out the rooms to find the perfect one for him. He found the one he wanted quickly, it had a large window that opened to a flat spot on the roof that almost touched the roof next door. He could literally climb on his neighbor's roof if he really wanted. The window faced his neighbor's window but he didn't care. The other window faced the street, he could also sit on the roof in front of that window, so he had two spots for him to stargaze or just sit outside unbothered.

 


Once the movers had gotten there, Patrick was expected to help bring things inside the house, what the hell were movers for if they still used their own son for free labor? He felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb in that quaint little neighborhood. He saw a truck pull up next door, the house his room window faced, and he saw a family of three get out. A mother and father with their son who looked to be the same age as him. The boy was tall, almost as tall as Patrick with curly black hair that seemed like no brush could tame. He was also pale like Patrick but his clothing choices were quite different. He wore holey jeans and nerdy t-shirts with, holy fuck was he seriously wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt over his t-shirt? It was brightly colored and obnoxious but he forgave it when he saw the t-shirt underneath was a Final Fantasy 7 shirt.

The boy looked over as Patrick stared and tilted his head. He had to admit that guy was a bit cute, even if his fashion choices were questionable. The boy waved and Patrick nodded his head in acknowledgement then picked up a box and returned inside the house.

"Patrick, I'm going to order pizza, cheese thin crust?"

"Yes, mom," Patrick yelled back.

 


Night time came quicker than expected, after dinner of pizza straight from the box and sitting on the floor, Patrick went up to his room and began to put up posters. Band posters, creepy artwork, and just random things he liked. He taped a Do Not Enter sign on his door and a few strips of Caution tape.

His walls were becoming less bare, his windows had no blinds or curtains but he didn't care. His bed had sheets and blankets and his computer desk was set up. He unpacked some things, his clothes were hung up in the spacious closet, and he stashed a small worn tin in a drawer in the closet.

His parents knew he smoked, they honestly didn't care, although if they knew that included weed, they might not be so cool about his smoking habits. He kept cigarettes and his baggie of weed in the tin, along with a lighter, rolling paper, and a pack of box cutter blades.

His parents didn't know about the self harm, he always covered himself and even when his mother noticed a scar on his wrist when his jacket sleeve rode up a little she didn't ask about it.

 

He looked outside the window facing the street and saw the stars in the night sky and he was itching to take some photos, the moon was almost full and he loved getting shots of the moon. He finally found his cd player and cd's and then he cranked up the music. His parents were smart enough to get a house where their room was downstairs and on the other side of the house. Of Mice & Men blared through the speakers and he ended up opening the window facing the house next door. He liked the fresh air and the cool breeze, he didn't expect the window his window faced would be to the room of the boy he saw earlier.

The boy was sitting on his bed, looked to be reading comics and- was he moving his head to the beat of Patrick's music? Huh, at least the kid had good taste in music. He grinned as the boy looked up and noticed his neighbor opening the window. Feeling caught Patrick turned away quickly and went back to hanging posters on the white walls that surrounded him.

 

____

 


Patrick laid in his bed just staring at the ceiling, he turned off his music and just listened to the night time sounds, the window, leaves in the trees, and crickets. It was peaceful and he enjoyed this time of night. Everyone was asleep and the night was calm. He got up to grab his bag of weed, rolling papers, and lighter and opened his window and stepped outside. He sat on the roof a few feet away from his window and rolled a joint. The click of the lighter and light of the flame was soothing, he took a nice long drag and after a minute of holding his breath, he let out the warm smoke that had filled his lungs.

He sat there and smoked in peace, not having a care in the world. Little did he know he was being watched.

He let his head rest against the wall and he closed his eyes. He didn't care that he moved away from his only home, he didn't care that he knew absolutely no one here, and he certainly didn't care about all the shit his parents were trying to run away from, or more like hide away from.

He knew his reputation would probably proceed him, it always did, he changed schools three times before his parents decided to move because word always traveled and everyone knew of his fuck up before he even got there. Why would moving make it any different. He was ready for no one to speak to him. He was ready for people to act terrified of him. He was ready to navigate school alone. He lifted his hand up to the sky and gave it the middle finger.

"Fuck this shit."