phobias.

5

fear: being trapped.
(cleithrophobia)

major tw. 
insanity, abuse, etc.

richie silently cried in the bathroom, staring at the floor tiles as he sat on the lid of the toilet seat. he thought deeply, reminiscing on old times he shared with his parents.

times where they weren't so angry. mean. threatening. he thought back to when he was a young boy, and his parents were obsessed with him. when they'd all three go outside and play for hours on end. when they would sing him a comforting song to let him to sleep. when they would surprise him on a bad day by bringing him to an arcade.

when they lived in california.

everything was different. this house was not the same as the one he grew up in. these people of adultery were not the same people that they used to be.

richie missed how things were back in california. he missed the way his parents treated him. it had been three years since they had moved, three years that richie's parents got worse and worse by. 

his cries were soft, but they were weak. he cried into his hands which were covered by the sleeves of his hoodie, simply sad and mourning those years of his life. 

his friend had not a clue about what went on past school. they had never noticed anything. they didn't take those bruises into consideration. they didn't think that they needed to. richie seemed so happy.

richie had been weeping in the bathroom for almost an hour before he had heard the front door slam. he sniffed and looked up weakly, wiping his face and grabbing his glasses.

"richie!" wentworth sung rudely. richie swallowed down his sobs and exited the bathroom cautiously, holding his breath as his feet lightly hit the floorboards.

"h-hi.. dad.." richie uttered. wentworth only stared at him.

"are you crying? again??" the man asked, approaching richie, who backed up.

he cleared his throat in attempt to toughen up. he wasn't weak. "no. allergies."

"so you've been outside all day? on house-arrest?"

"no, i-"

"because the only GOD DAMN allergies i know of that you have is fucking pollen," the man screamed, punching richie's shoulder as he raised his voice. richie's bottom lip quivered.

"i just.. had.. my window down in my room. that's all."

"oh?" wentworth asked, storming past richie and to the boy's room. richie ran after, starting to cry.

"no, no, stop, dad, no.. please.." he weakly cried out, holding his dad's arm as he jogged. he knew his father hated liars.

wentworth stormed into richie's room to a mess and a closed window. he began to breathe heavily, and richie started crying harder, backing away.

"i'm sorry. i was crying, okay?! i said it, dad! please don't hurt me! i'm begging you!" richie sobbed, creeping out of the hallway that led to his room.

wentworth turned around and walked to richie, who sobbed and held his hands out. "please! please!" he yelped, his voice croaky. 

"scream, and you're gone for a week." wentworth shoved richie into the wall, who stumbled and hit his head only to hit the floor next.

"no! no!" richie cried out, arms up to hopefully protect his body. 

the tip of the man's shoe pounded into richie's ribcage several times, wentworth kicking richie up against the wall, who continuously slammed into it as he curled in on himself and held his head in protection.