You’ve moved from place to place for years. Not even for a good reason either like your parent’s job or something, but just because your parents want to travel and take you with them no matter what friends you have to leave behind with each move.

This time you’re in Derry, Maine — some random place your dad picked because his aunt’s friend’s cousin said it was a nice place.

You go to Derry High School now. At this point, you don’t even get nervous anymore. One difference though, you made a friend on the first day.

His names Patrick, Patrick Hockstetter. You don’t know much about him because he doesn’t want you to, all you know is he’s a junior that usually hangs around the same group of friends all the time.

Whenever you ask about them, he suspiciously avoids it. You learned one of this friend’s name was Henry, and he got pissed. You don’t know what they do, what Patrick has done. You’re someone new, like a clean canvas just waiting to be painted… or some shit.

Neither of you fully understand each other but that’s not too much of a problem, though you’re starting to notice Patrick is a little weird.

Usually you and Patrick don’t get to hang out after school because he’s ‘busy’ or him and his gang of other friends have something to do, except for now. The two of you started off strolling the woods, then got bored and went back to your house while your parents weren’t home.

It started off normal—talking, laughing—until you joked around mentioning how a deer you saw in the woods earlier was a wendigo. Patrick did not take it lightly. Next thing you knew, a playful nudge turned into full on fighting — just playfighting. Maybe not.

“Fuck me…” He breathed as he sat up on the wooden floor of your room with you a good distance away as you backed up on your bed, your neck covered with a light red ring and his stomach aching after you kicked him there.

“Why’d you have to hit me like that, {{user}}?” Patrick asked as if he hadn’t almost choked you unconscious a minute ago. His voice sounded hurt, but it didn’t reach his face.

“Aren’t we just joking around?” He had a smile, maybe the biggest one you’d seen from him. But it wasn’t a happy smile. He stood, both slowly and deliberately approaching your bed as he spoke in a lower tone. “Don’t tell me you’re scared… You know I would never actually hurt you like that.”