The Eighth Loser

Post-Fight Moments

That was about two months ago. Now, we're nearing the start of another school year, this time in high school, a bit farther into September, and I still haven't spoken to any of the Losers since the fight. One night, I cried myself to sleep. It's not like mom'll hear me, she's not even here which is surprising since she doesn't leave the house much. So, I'm alone. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be. Me being alone. I've grown used to it. It was stupid of me to think I'd ever have real friends. Not ones who'll use me for the benefits. That's what happened when I was in elementary school. All the kids wanted to be friends with me only because my family had a lot of money at the time. Obviously, that little gold rush is gone. Mom ran it out once Lilia was gone and dad killed himself. I'm just trying to get by, saving up all my money which isn't much for a thirteen year old. But I do what I can to keep us afloat. I can't seem to forget what Richie told me that today. The sound of feet pounding against the floor in a run came from the hall. I sat up slowly, wiping my tear stained cheeks. Mom hardly ever comes near my room unless she wants something from me. Curiously, I opened my door and peered down the hall to see Lilia's room door wide open with the light on. Mom always insisted on keeping the door shut and locked, so no one's ever been in there since the incident. I went into her room quietly and gasped when I saw Lilia, basically covered in blood from several wounds, sitting on the bed. She turned towards me, a look of pure distress on her bloodied face.
"L-Lilia..." I stammered.
"Hope, why didn't you help me?" she glowered.
"W-what are you talking about?"
"That night when he came, you didn't help me."
"Because y-you told me to stay in the bathroom. You said you'd be back."
"Didn't you hear me screaming?!"
"Every night."
Tears began to fill my eyes.
"Then why didn't you help me?!" Lilia demanded.
"Where've you been all this time?" I asked, sniffing.
"With Pennywise, of course."
"So... so he did this to you?"
"He took me away into the sewers. Come join us. We can teach you how to float."
"Y-you're not Lilia," I backed away.
Her eyes turned a bright shade of yellow. When I blinked, she turned into Pennywise. He ran towards me. At first I froze, like I normally do, but then I got the sense to run and raced down the hall. Turning my head back, I can see the clown reaching out a long arm to try and grab me, his sharp teeth growing rapidly. Before I know it, I'm falling down the stairs harshly, twisting my ankle in the process. Lifting my head off the floor, I saw Pennywise at the top of the steps, grinning evilly. Suddenly, the front door opened with a crash, and mom stumbled in, drunk. I glanced at her before staring back at the spot where Pennywise was only seconds ago. A sharp pain shot from my stomach after mom kicked me in the ribs.
"Get up! I don't want you littering the floor, you ungrateful little brat," she spat at me.
I tried my best to get up, but I must've sprained my ankle on the way down. It's not too bad. Nothing an ankle wrap can't handle. I'll just have to head over to the pharmacy in the morning. I could barely sleep the whole night, and by morning I still felt like I had. I had to keep icing my ankle for hours at a time to stop the painful throbbing. Now, it doesn't hurt as much and I can put pressure and stuff on it which is good since I need to ride my bike to get there. I spent most of the night drawing random stuff in my sketchbook. I didn't pay attention to what I drew, al I knew was that it calmed me down. I dressed into a new pair of clothes and put my sketchbook in a bag I found laying on the ground. Making sure to leave without my mom noticing, I took off on my bike towards town. It was a nice ride, although my ankle did hurt a good bit. But I fought through the pain. I learned early on that I needed to be tough during situations like these. Finally, I made it to the pharmacy. I set my bike up against the building and went in. While I searched through each aisle for an ankle wrap, I heard two voices. A girl's and a boy's. The girl I recognized as another one of the school bullies, Greta Keene. Her dad's the owner of the store. And the boy is... Eddie? I peeked my head behind one of the aisles to get a good look. Eddie's standing at the front counter with a stark white cast and an empty pills bottle while Greta's sitting behind the counter reading a magazine.
"You know it's all crap right?" Greta stated, magazine in hand.
"What is?" Eddie questioned.
"Your medication."
She stared at him.
"They're placebos," she said.
"What does placebo mean?" Eddie asked.
"Placebo means crap."
Eddie looked down at the counter and then ahead of him, trying to ignore Greta.
"No friends huh?" she questioned. "Your cast. No signatures or anything?"
She puckered her lip and made this cry baby motion.
"So sad," she said.
"I didn't want it to get dirty," Eddie told her.
"I'll sign it for ya," Greta said more of a command than a question.
Eddie looked at her as she grabbed a marker and took off the cap, chewing her gum. His face brightened while she set to work signing it. In big letters she wrote, L, O, she glanced up at his half smiling face, S, E, Eddie looked down at what she's really writing, his face crestfallen, E, R, Greta finished by sticking her bright pink bubblegum in the middle of the O. I frowned at her before grabbing the ankle wrap and matching up to the front counter. Greta glared daggers at me when I stopped in front of her. Eddie looked at me quickly before staring back down at the counter.
"I'd like to buy this," I stated, handing her the ankle wrap.
Taking it, she looked at it disgustingly.
"What do you need this for?" she demanded. "Did you hurt someone else?"
I ignored her snooty comments and handed her the money.
"Oh, that's not enough," Greta told me.
"What do you mean? That's how much it is," I said, confused.
"Well, the prices just got higher," she replied.
"Since when?" I asked skeptically.
"Since today. Now either you pay for it , or you get out of the store. You're stinking up the place."
"But-"
"Here," Eddie gave her the rest of the money.
Greta scoffed, handing me the ankle wrap.
"Losers gotta stick together," she said in this annoying voice.
I glared at her before leaving with Eddie.
We walked to our bikes in silence.
"What do you need the ankle wrap for?" Eddie asked.
"I fell down the stairs," I answered.
"Sorry about that."
"It's fine, really. So, what've you been up to?"
"You know, just stuck inside because of my mom."
"Oh."
"It was nice to see you again."
"Yeah, you too."
We awkwardly parted ways and took off again on our bikes. I rode my the long way home, after putting the ankle wrap on of course.