me: richie's drunk? i just left his house an hour ago, wtf
riley: idk dude, he's hanging out of his window and crying
me: shit dude, im coming
richie's drunk? he cant be.
as i rush to get out of the house, russ stops me. "where ya going?"
"im going to see richie, riley says he's drunk but i dont believe it so im going to check on him. be back in a bit," i jumble every word in that sentence together before opening the door.
"okay, love you seymour!" russ says before i close the door. i smile and run down the hallway to the stairs, then to the exit downstairs. richie isnt drunk.
as soon as i get outside, i see riley outside. she points to his dorm building and stays quiet. he is, indeed, hanging out of his window crying. i rush up to his room and open the door.
"richie, are you okay?" "noooo, im noooooooot. i dont feel happyyyyy anymore,"
he isnt drunk because there isnt a drink in sight. he isnt high because he doesnt smoke.
"what's wrong?" i ask, sitting next to him and pulling him into my lap. he puts his head right under my head and squeezes me.
"i dont know, i just feel super sad. i dont know if it's just because i want to be around you or im just not feeling good." he sounds in pain, so he's probably sick or something. i dont know how he got sick that quickly, but he sure as hell isnt feeling right.
"do you wanna come to my dorm?" i ask. he nods.
i guess russ and james are meeting richie tonight.
—
a/n: yall i never showed the drawings of them. damn im very productive
YOU ARE READING
sry seymour ; original story
Random"isnt your name seymour? ive seen you in mr. parsons art class." a boy, who looks a year or two younger than me, asks. i nod and feel like im getting smaller as my face gets hotter. - this is the story of seymour venta. he's 19 and only goes to his...
