Step two: Bring to a boil

Ash stretched, yawning at the morning sun that shined through his small round attic window. He was so happy with his big attic room. Despite not having any siblings, he enjoyed the privacy of his own little staircase leading to his secluded hideout.

Hunger disturbed his stomach, sending him into action for the morning. He got up, putting his towel over his shoulder. He headed towards the bathroom, eager for his morning shower.

But wait- didn't he just take one last night? Everything came back to him in a flood and he froze, shirtless on the staircase. He could feel the grain in the wood seeping into his feet. Suddenly it felt freezing. A chill ran up his spine, and he had the strange urge to look behind him.

No. He won't do that. That would only make him more scared of something he made up. Pointless.

He now felt plenty dirty from the memories. He had to wash them off. Yeah. That would make him feel better.

He walked to the bathroom fast, feeling a little shaken. He shut the door quietly, so as not to wake his mother. He ran the water, making it as hot as he could stand. His clothes slipped to the floor, and he stepped in.

The water soothed him. It was a welcome feeling after a bit of distress. He faced the stream of water, running his fingers through his dark hair, soaking it. Grabbing the shampoo, he squeezed a penny sized drop of it into the palm of his hand, and scrubbed his hair. He felt the suds run down his face and neck. He cried suddenly. one of the cuts on his face stung as the shampoo went into it.

"Ouch." He said as he felt its affect. He ignored it and continued with his shower, rinsing his hair and washing himself.

After his fill for the shower had been reached, he turned the faucet off and reached for his towel, blinded by sudsy shower water. He felt coldness creep around him again like in the stairwell, and he froze. It shouldn't feel like this in a warm steamy bathroom.

The feeling to look behind him came again, and he froze. If his fears wouldn't let him be, then talking to himself wouldn't be so bad.

"Hey, whatever is creeping me out, go away. I know it's just me, but I can't do this to myself so just stop." He finished matter-of-factly. He felt no worse, but the feeling still stayed with him.

"Look at me... look at me again..." a chill ran through Ash's spine. Was that...whispering?! No... it couldn't be... he was the only other person in the house besides his mother and she was asleep. He's just scared.

"For the last time...stop doing that!" He said a little more nervous this time. He heard something behind him, like a swish of towels or something. He swallowed hard. What was his mind doing to him?! He had to get some breakfast. Maybe he needed more water?

"LOOK AT ME NOW" A voice yelled behind him. He jumped, and turned, but not quite in time. He tried to scream for his mother, but a towel had somehow begun to choke him, and a heaviness had glued him to the floor. He felt knees on his back, pressing into his spine. He scrabbled frantically at the towel, the pain excruciating. He could barely breathe.

"LOOK AT ME OR YOU WILL REGRET IT" the voice boomed again, the weight digging into his back. He strained to look up or backward at whatever it was. What would he regret?!

Suddenly a face, black straight hair coming down from its head, appeared upside down in front of his. It had those same white eyes. And it had teeth. And slits for a nose.

And it mouthed something to him.

Suddenly the towel was loosened, and the weight on his back vanished. He flipped onto his back and gasped, clutching his throat. He grimaced. The pain was terrible. That thing had practically crushed his back, not to mention choked him harder than he could imagine.

He caught his breath, and after he wrapped the towel around himself, he ran to his room. He slammed the door, looking frantically around the room for any unwanted surprises. It was safe.

He made his way to the bed, feeling much more unsafe than one should feel in their own house.

"H-holy shit..." He said to himself, his voice hoarse. He rubbed the towel over his mop of dark hair and quickly got dressed. He had to put that behind him. If he looked at all like something was bothering him, people would ask what's wrong, and who would believe any of what happened? Yeah, no way.

He looked at his back in the mirror. Bruised. His neck as well. He slipped on a turtle neck instead of a shirt, and went downstairs for breakfast.

His mother was making pancakes and some bacon, the smell wafting to Ash. He took a deep whiff of the stuff, letting his worries lighten up a bit. "Aaah...smells good mom. How did you sleep?" He said, looking hungrily towards the bacon.

"...oh, I slept fine. But it felt a little cold last night to me. Did you feel cold too?" She said tiredly, yawning and focusing on flipping a pancake.

Ash swallowed nervously. "...Yeah, I guess it was a little cold last night, huh?" His voice wavered a bit as she glanced at the stairs.

"Also, what were you doing before I got up? I heard a lot of noise from the bathroom. Did you fall or something?" She said curiously, moving her gaze to him.

"Yeah I fell while I was taking my shower..." Ash said as she flipped another pancake.

"Ok. As long as your fine. And why are you wearing a turtleneck in summer? Take that off, you'll overheat." She said, abandoning her spot at the stove temporarily and heading over to Ash. She had already started to roll down the collar before Ash could think of saying something.

"What the hell? Did those bullies choke you too?! Are you okay?!" She hollered, lifting his chin up and examining the bruise. Luckily she couldn't see the one on his back-that was even worse.

"Uh-no mom! I just fell on it in the shower." Ash blurted, hoping her tiredness would take over. She scowled at him. "No you didn't. You wouldn't have gotten a bruise that bad from a fall. Someone did that to you, and it hurt. But I'll talk about it later. We both need to eat." She said angrily, putting the pancakes onto some plates along with bacon. She handed one to him and pointed to the table. He went over feeling like a dog.

He began to eat as his mother sat down in front of him. She ate without uttering a word the whole time, even when Ash tried making awkward conversation.

"Look-I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on, ok? I love you, and some people can be assholes sometimes, but you need to tell at least someone what's happening all the time. And I, for one, as your mother, believe I have a little bit of right to that. But I will let this slide since you seem so sensitive about it. But I expect some sort of explanation from you soon."

She got up, put her dishes in the sink, and walked out the door. The ASMR of the lock and the car engine only made it more stressful. Ash sighed. He wanted to tell her. But she could get hurt.

He would have to trust who he told too. Or else things could be bad. And he definitely did not want to get thrown off a bridge again.

An idea popped into his head and he smiled with joy. He knew just the person.