5 - i drew stars around my scars

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richie opened his eyes and took a deep breath. he looked down at his arms and decided 'what the hell' and rolled up his sleeves.

he picked up the marker, which lay beside him, and slowly started drawing stars and dots around self harm scars that were all from different dates. some still had dried blood sitting above the skin.

he felt his face get wet and wiped it with the back of his hand, assuming he was sweating. he hadn't realized he'd been crying.

he drew stars of different shapes and sizes all over his arms as tears ran down his face. he let them fall. when he'd finished he rolled his sleeves back up and pulled his legs up to his chest, head resting on his knees.

he felt his hair get wet and over time the temperature slowly started to drop. he looked up and realized it was slowly starting to rain, but hardly five minutes later richie was sitting in the pouring rain getting completely soaked. perfect.

he hoped the losers were still in the clubhouse and hadn't come out to look for him, he hated the idea of them getting worried about him and then getting all wet trying to look for him. they'd probably find him and get mad at him for leaving and making them worried. then they'd leave him there. and never speak to him again. and he'd never have any friends ever again. and bowers would beat him up daily without his friends near to defend him. richie shut his eyes tightly to prevent the tears escaping them.

he put his hood on and allowed his head to sink deeper into his knees. he choked out a small sob. he hated overthinking. he hated thinking in general. he hated the fact that the losers would eventually leave him. he hated the fact that it would be his fault. and most of all, he hated himself. so fucking much. he started to sob quietly but uncontrollably into his knees as the rain poured down on him.

it was almost funny, in a sad way. it was like something straight out of some depressing painting. a kid crying against a tree in the pouring rain.

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