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8. Richie's POV

Trigger warning. Read at your own risk

When my brother told me to choose the right one to be my first real crush, he said to take risks. To go all out, even if it means losing them.

And I did.

I grab the picture of him, Derek, and stare at it. I tell him that I found my first real crush. I tell him it's a boy.

"Rich, are you here," my mother shouts from the entry. I shove the picture back in the hidden spot and run downstairs.

"Hey, mom." She carries groceries so I take them and we start putting them away.

"How was your day," she asks.

"Fine," I mumble.

"Just fine?" I dont reply, for I might spill some news.

"So, insurance isn't paying for your medication," she grumbles.

"Oh," I sigh. I need to do something.

Once the groceries are put away, I run back to my room and check the time, 11:00 p.m. I open my window with a wad of cash in my hand, leaving to the designated alley. I see Tuco with some other guys waiting by a dumpster.

"Yo," I call out. They walk up to me.

"Back for more," Crazy 8 states. I nod.

Tuco throws me a bottle full of pills, and I catch them, shoving them in my pocket.

"Anything else?" The tattoos on his face are visible from the petty street light.

"Yeah, you got weed?" Crazy tosses me a packet full of the green wonders.

"And some coke," I finish. Tuco directly hands me a sack full of white powder, gripping my wrist way too hard, hurting my scars. He stares in my eyes.

"The prices have raised," he mumbles. Shit. I need these.

"Yo, I got like, 60 dollars here."

"More," he hisses.

"How much?"

"40 extra dollars." I dont have it. I walk back slightly after he let's go of my hand, and I run with the illegal drugs.

"Hey," he booms from behind me. I run throughout main street, hoping people are paying enough attention to see 2 grown men are chasing a skinny teen. I run around all of Derry for at least 2 hours, and when I'm absolutely sure they dont know where I am, I run home exhausted. A little too frantic, I accidentally enter through the front door.

"Went?" I run into my moms room.

"Just me."

"Where the fuck were you?"

"Just taking a run. Goodnight." I run to my room and lock the door behind me.

I take the pills out first, popping 2 into my mouth, rolling a joint with the weed. I don't light it, and stare at the bag of cocaine, bright in the dark room.

Pinching some out, I lay it on the desk, grabbing my driver's license out of my wallet, lining the white powder into a line.

Seriously, richie? This is what your life has become? What are you doing?

Once again, a strangled sob leaves my mouth. I snort the powder, feeling an exhilaration and falling to the ground. I'm so weak.

I let myself sob once again. If I dont feel absolutely numb, I lose it. I cry and cry, applying hard pressure onto my wrists, causing the pain to be excruciating.

Richie, you just gave up on dying? Do it again. You still have nothing to live for.

But Eds.

I continue sobbing into my hands on my dirty floor. As soon as I catch a breath from the sobs, I get up and retrieve my drawing of the only thing keeping me alive. I pick up my pen and write.

Ed's, if you're reading this, you're either really snoopy and went through my room, or I'm dead. I cant really tell the future, but it's probably because I gave up again. Being successful this time. I just wanted you to know that I'm writing this right now instead of laying in my bathtub bleeding out because of you. Fuck, Ed's, you're the only thing keeping me from being a coward. I know we only met a few weeks ago, but your sunlight is the only thing that has shone onto my darkness for years.
Take care, Ed's.

I set my pen down, shove the drawing back behind my dresser and go to bed, high as a kite, the joint still unlit in my fingers.

I'm really sorry this chapter is short, I'm having a hard time with life.