Richie Tozier angst

(2) School.

A/N: I'm gonna try to make this chapter longer, I'm so sorry!! ♡♡ <3 (happy new year!)

Richie sighed as he slammed the door behind him, running over to his bike. Richie pedeled as fast as he could to get away from that Hell hole he thought was home when he was younger.

When Richie got older, the abuse got worse. Every growing, painful day just seemed more painful to him. He felt as if he was alone, he couldn't tell anyone, or so he thought.

But Richie also thought that people didn't care, all they did was care about his jokes that they said were stupid (which I think not).

—

Richie arrived at school and parked his bike and headed over to where the Losers were.

"G'day mates!" Richie said in a "Australian" accent.

"Hey Rich," Eddie said, as most of the other Losers just waved.

"The fuck happened to your hair, Richie? Did you even brush it?" Stanley asked.

"Uhh, no not really, Staniel—" Richie was cut off by the bell.

"Y-Y-You should try to go f-f-fix it in the bathroom, R-Richie," Bill said as fast as he could, walking towards the building.

"Maybe I will, thanks I guess." Richie said.

—

Richie was sitting in class, his hair a mess, and his hand fidgeting with his pencil at the speed of light. His anxiety was getting to him, but he didn't exactly know why.

But Richie tried to brush off those thoughts and think of some others. Like how he was going to get out of being hit by his "Father" yet again.

Little did Richie know though, Stanley was watching. He watched Richie fidget with his pencil, pick at the desk, and just fidget with anything he could find.

Finally, Stanley had enough, he needed and wanted to know. "Richie, what the fuck is going on? Are you okay? You just keep fidgeting," Stanley tried to whisper to Richie.

"Oh, I'm fine, Stan the man! Just fine." Richie lied. He wasn't fine, at all. He was so tired of everything.

Then, class was over. Everyone headed down the halls, but Richie went straight to the bathroom.

When Richie got there, he looked in the mirror. Richie moved his hair over and touched the bruise on his forehead and winced at the pain.

Richie then rolled up his sleeves and looked at his arms. Richie had just realized, and it scared him.

Richie ran to a stall, and touched his arms. He whimpered every time he did so.
Richie slid down the wall of the stall and sobbed.

Yes, sobbed. Richie felt like everything was falling apart, and it would never go back to normal. He didn't know if it would, but he sure fucking hoped it would.

Explanation to his arms: When Went grabbed Richie, it left a bruise. Richie had hurt himself the day before and it hurt. Richie couldn't tell the grip was so tight until then. Richie was hurting so bad but it felt almost numb to him.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!- I tried my best to make it longer, I'm so sorry!! I'll update soon!-. —Ruby