richie
the losers eventually all left one by one, bill being the last to go. he hugged me longer than the rest of them did, and it made the pain in my heart subside slightly, if only for a second.
the house was empty, my mom and dad working till late. it was just me and eddie, who was still laid unconscious on my sofa. i realised that it would probably do him no good to be in the same position for so long, as his body was small and bony and he'd probably be in a lot of pain when he woke up. so i gently lifted him up and carried him up to my bedroom, placing him down onto my unmade bed and covering him with numerous blankets. i sat down beside him, lightly tracing my fingers over his cheekbones with so much love within me i thought i would cry.
i peeled off my uncomfortably large jean shorts and replaced them with pyjama bottoms. i didn't care if it was only 4pm, they were much more comfortable. cautiously, i climbed into the bed next to eddie, careful not to wake him up. he needed rest.
my arms found themselves around his waist as i felt sharp hipbones press against my wrists, making me close my eyes tightly as i pulled him closer. my eddie. he didn't deserve any of this.
i held his face in my hands as i bit my lip, tears flowing freely down my face as i stared at his resting features. i thought back to what jane had told us, about her mom's friend sarah, and what had happened to her. i couldn't bear the thought of eddie going through something like that, but i wasn't so sure i would be able to convince myself he wasn't. i couldn't remember the last time i'd seen his arms, and the acknowledgment of that terrified me to no end. what if she was right, and he was hurting himself behind our backs? how long has he been doing it for? why would he do that?
i didn't understand why anyone would do something like that. to me, the act of purposely hurting yourself was odd and not something i would ever think about. but the thought of eddie doing it made me feel absolutely awful. he didn't deserve to be sad enough to take it out on himself, no one did really, but especially not eddie. sure, he was a little irritating at times, but he would never do anything to hurt anybody. he would always put himself in danger to protect his friends, he deserved to be happy.
i sighed shakily, allowing my fingertips to lightly stroke the back of his hand. i froze as my touch lingered at the base of his palm where his sleeve began. if i really wanted answers, then i could just check for myself. i could lift up his sleeve right now and see whether or not jane was right. it was that simple, he didn't have to know.
but i couldn't.
i couldn't do that to him. if he really was keeping a secret as worrying and dangerous as that, then he would come to me when he felt ready. i knew eddie, and i knew that if he really needed me, then he'd know i would be there. no matter what. i knew that he was fragile, inside and out, and that he had a lot of pent up self doubt and troubling thoughts. and i knew that i wasn't always the best at dealing with it, but that didn't mean i didn't care.
god, did i care about that boy.
i cared about him more than anything, with all my heart. i would do anything to keep him safe, anything. but for now, i would just have to wait. i would wait until he came to me, because he would.
he always did.
so i closed my eyes, and i imagined eddie. i imagined henry bowers calling him horrid names at school, causing tears to form in his big brown eyes as every single word engraved itself into the deepest darkest holes of his mind. i imagined him going home all alone and crying in his room, no one there to hear or comfort him. i imagined him picking up a knife, and destroying the soft skin of his arms with the sole intention of inflicting pain upon himself, the tears never stopping. i imagined him refusing to eat the dinner his mom put on the table later that evening, his red rimmed eyes downcast so his mother wouldn't notice he'd been crying as he fiddles with his long sleeves where she can't see them. i imagined him going to sleep that night, feeling sad and tired and alone.
