phobias.

3.

fear: failure.
(atychiphobia)

richie sat in his room, lamp on to his right. he bit at his nails, studying the books and papers that surrounded him. it was two in the morning, and richie had been studying for hours. he feared that if he failed this test again, he'd get hurt even worse than last time.

richie had always been afraid of failure. who isn't? being a failure isn't fun. but this was so much worse as years progressed and he got older, and his dad became angrier.

he believed that's why he was so scared of not doing good. because whenever he didn't, it left a mark. on his skin.

so, richie studied for hours at his desk, not once picking his phone up to see who was texting. sure, he was easily distracted, but he kept noted to keep his phone away from him.

the next day, richie arrived at school, with both worry and confidence. he didn't know what to feel, but he did know that he was nervous.

"hey, rich!" beverly greeted with a kind smile. he sent her one back, immediately looking down, shameful of how fake it felt. she furrowed her brows. "you all good?"

"what? me? yeah!" he said, shaking a smile onto his unsettled face.

"you sure?" eddie asked.

"yess!" richie chuckled. "tip tip and tally-ho my good fellos! let's get to class now!"

"we have like five m-minutes," bill chuckled, the group following richie as he walked off. he did a pretty decent job at covering his anxiety, so he thought, up until third period, when science hit.

richie was never good at science. quite frankly, he believed he wasn't at all good at it. so he studied extra hard for this test.

richie bit hit nails and chewed the skin off of his fingers as the tests were being passed out. the room was silent, any small noise echoing off of the bright walls. he could hear his heart thumping and heavy breathing, trying to calm himself for the test.

he took a deep breath as the paper was put onto his desk, and his knee started bouncing. he flipped over the test and started working.

richie was never good at taking tests. sure, he knew everything, but he didn't know how to take tests. which made it a lot harder.

richie's mind raced as he stared at each question. he read it hundreds of times, still not able to figure out what it was saying. his breath picked up, and he took his pencil in one hand, noticing how it trembled. richie took continuous deep breaths and got to work on the test.

he finished relatively early, despite getting distracted. he just reminded himself not to second-guess his answers, and that he knew the answer.

sitting back in his seat, richie brought an aggressively shaking hand to his mouth, biting the skin off as his fingers began to bleed. stanley glanced over at him, made sure the teacher wasn't looking, and put a hand on his shoulder.

richie looked over at him, and he furrowed his brows, sticking a thumb up as if to say, "you okay?" richie smiled and nodded, knowing damn well he wasn't and that he felt like crying. stanley sighed, glancing at the teacher and sitting back, staring at richie for a moment.

richie couldn't sit still. his adhd mixed with this text-anxiety was worsening by the minute, and he felt as though he couldn't breathe. not because of the test, but because of the outcome. he didn't believe in himself.

the class dismissed and richie walked out, stressed. stanley joined his side.

"rich, what's going on?" stanley asked. richie just looked at him.