Richie waited impatiently for the bell to ring. He regretted not skipping his last hour. The boy fidgetted with his pencil, trying to keep himself entertained. He already finished the work the teacher gave him and he was really bored. Richie was good in math so it never took him long to finish his work. He kept glancing at the clock hanged on the wall. He still had to wait 6 minutes until he could go back home and get high and forget how shitty this day was. After what felt like hours, the bell finally rang, mentionning the end of the school day. Richie took his things and left the class without a word. He walked to his locker, dropped his things in it and left school. He hummed to himself as he walked to his house, enjoying the loneliness. As soon as he got inside, he walked upstairs to his room and closed the door.
The tall boy made his way to his closet and searched the top shelf for his little bag of weed. He then took everything he needed and rolled himself a blunt. He took his lighter from his pocket and lit the thing up. He brought it to his lips and took a drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He slowly let the smoke out and kept doing that until there was barely nothing left of the blunt.
Richie sat on his bed and hit the blunt one last time before lifting his sleeve and lighting it off on his forearm. According to the encyclopedia of non-sense that was in other words Richard's brain, the pain he daily cause himself was deserved. He was worthless, useless.
The boy wasn't suicidal.He was just sad. He wanted to live, at least that's what he thought.
He sighed.He could hear his parents fighting downstairs. They were always fighting. Sometimes about stupid things, he would often hear his mom yell something like ''Went, you can't wash the red clothes with the white clothes!'' and his parents would have a huge fight about whether or not we could wash the red stuff with the white one. It was so silly that Richie would often sit on his bed and listen to them arguing, laughing at their arguments. But other times, the ones Richie hated, they were fighting about him. His father would yelled about how much of a disgrace Richie was and how ashamed he was of his son. Maggie would always tell him to keep it down. She didn't want him to hear it. Little did she knew, he always heard them, listening as they would both fight about the fact that Maggie should have listened to Went and have an abortion. His mom loved him, he knew it. She cared about him. He was her son. But Went forbided her to show him affection. So as a kid, Richie was really neglected. He would have to prepare his lunch himself, do his laundry. His father didn't want him to share the same food as them so he had to buy his own food.The only thing they paid for him was schol and as soon as he would graduate, he knew his father would kick him out, if he doesn't decide that he's had enough and kick him out earlier. Richie basically raised himself.
Instead of listening to the hateful things his father was saying about him, he sat on the windowsill and jumped off his opened bedroom window. He was used to it so he landed perfectly, right on his feet.
He walked around town, walking into a random shop and stealing cigarettes. He smoked a few while he walked, softly humming random songs he liked. Richie didn't have many friends. He only had one, Beverly Marsh, a fire headed girl with an abusive father. Richie would sometimes meet up and they would get high together. The two got along pretty well as soon as they met, being forced to work in team in chemistry class. Most people at school were hating him because he was always talking. He didn't care, he was used to people dropping him because of that. Richie just couldn't help it. Sometimes he didn't even want to speak but his mouth would decide otherwise and he hated it. Doctors told him it was something called adhd and that other kids had that. But Richie realized that other kids with adhd weren't always talking shit like him. He didn't talk about it, fearing to be called silly. He chuckled to himself, remembering that day where he was at school, maybe in 1st or 2nd grade and he had to use the toilet. He raised his hand like asked and said ''Mrs. Big Titty, I need to take a piss.'' The teacher, in fact having big breasts looked at him shocked and sent him to the principal office. He got a detention and had to make a speech infront of the class about how to respect people. He was so embarrassed.
