Scared; A Richie Tozier Story

05

I head to the bathroom, ready to take a shower before heading to bed. At first, I was kind of wary about leaving Richie alone in my house, but after must persisting on his part, I decided it wouldn't be the end of the world if I left him to take a shower.

I look at myself in the mirror and sigh. Not a self, depreciating sigh, just a "why did I let him stay in my house" kinda sigh. 

On one hand, we have the insensitive, unkind, loud Richie that makes Beaver jokes around Beverly and winks at me.

On the other hand, we have the worried, hilarious, messed up family life, slightly cute Richie who is kind to Bill and winks at me.

I take off my clothes and get into the shower. I let the hot water run all over me and think about all the strange disappearances in Derry, to get my mind off of Richie and his cute yet annoying face. It's hard to believe that this small town has more kids disappear than over 6 times the national average. That's insane.

"Nice new home, mom, and dad," I think to myself. I can't believe they went back to New York without me. They know I miss Violet, and how much I miss New York. They totally should've brought me with them! It's not like I'll miss school, it's summer vacation for fuck's sake.

I turn off the shower and hop out, grabbing a towel to dry myself off with. I towel dry my hair, rubbing it vigorously. I haul on one of my dad's Pink Floyd t-shirts and shorts. After hanging up my now wet towels and throwing my dirty clothes into a laundry basket, I head back to my room.

Richie is sitting on my floor, carefully looking through my photo albums. I stop in the doorway and watch him with a small smile on my face. He's talking to himself, doing commentary on my photos.

"She looks like a moron in this one" he mumbles to himself "her cute ass is so stupid". Cute. Oh.  I squint to see what picture he's looking at. It's a picture of me covering my face in my hands, one eye peeking out through Spock fingers. I laugh at this one, and Richie turns around, blushing slightly.

"H-hey Anna," he says, his eyes darting around the room, "I was going to set up a bed, but you don't have any pillows or blankets up here" Richie shrugs.

"Oh crap," I say, sighing. The blankets are in the basement. I hate the basement. It's so creepy. But, unless I want Richie in my bed, I'll have to go get them. I opt for the basement.

"I'll go grab them," I say, heading out the door, "You just... stay here". Richie winks at me and I blush, turning quickly and going down the hall to the door to the basement. I take a deep breath and open the door.

"It's just another part of your house," I think to myself, "what are you even afraid of anyway?"

I slowly walk down the stairs and reach my hand into the darkness, reaching for the small cord that will turn on the lights. I bite my lip and continue to grope my hand out in the darkness. I can't find the cord. Oh god. It's so dark and I hear the door clothes behind me, closing off any sort of light I had to the basement. 

I can feel a panic attack coming on and I frantically whip my hand around, desperately searching for the lights. I can feel something watching me, and tears stream rapidly down my face. 

"Oh god" I mutter, hugging myself, "Where the fuck are the lights?". The last part is supposed to be a yell, but it comes out as a whimper. I'm not even scared of the dark, just what lies in it, which is nothing. I wipe my tears and reach out again for the lights, slowly this time, controlled.

All of a sudden, a bright spotlight coming from seemingly nowhere shines on the far wall of the basement. It's shining on a sheet of paper, but I'm too far away to see what it says. My brain is screaming at me to go back upstairs, but it's as if I'm on autopilot.