learning // reddie

chapter one: lethal purple.

WARNING: Homophobic slurs and mentions of abuse and alcoholism.
Song for this chapter: Wires by The Neighborhood.

"Fuck you, you lazy son of a bitch!" Richard Tozier shouted at the top of his lungs, throwing an empty bottle of whiskey at his father. The bottle shattered to the right of Wentworth Tozier, an abusive and alcoholic excuse of a parent. He had begun to drunkenly drag himself across the floor, movements sluggish and feet slow from the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream. "What did you say, you faggot?" Wentworth growled, and pounded his fist into his son's rib cage, letting out a bellow after he delivered blow after blow on his son.
  Meanwhile, across the town of Derry, Maine, a doe-eyed, sweet boy was being forced to swallow a light blue pill.

"Momma, I'm not sick! I'm fine, see?" Edward Kaspbrak tried to convince his mother, Sonia. However, she was not giving in. "Edward Kaspbrak, you come and take this pill like a good boy. Maybe it'll make you more obedient, too," his mother forced out through her clenched teeth. Eddie, acting in the heat of the moment, grabbed the pill and smushed it, smashing it into baby-blue powder beneath his loafers. Somehow, the sight of the pill shattered beneath his foot gave him a sort of relief.
"Edward Kaspbrak, those pills are not cheap! You sweep that up and take the new pill immediately!" His mother screeched, sending an urgent fear into Eddie's small body. He dashed for the broom and dustpan, sweeping rapidly. He knew his mother was implying a beating, knowing what would come to him if he didn't obey her. He bitterly dropped the pill into his mouth, but, instead of downing it with cold water, he let the gel casing dissolve on his tongue. Bitter and nasty powder filled his mouth and breached on his tastebuds, but he let it.
  He believed he deserved it, for he was indeed very, very gay.

  Richie stood in front of his bedroom mirror, surveying the damage done to his lanky figure. Bruises, purple and blue, shaded his pale body. His father was careful not to bruise Richie's face; the boy bruised easily and would obviously be noticeable. Shaking his head, he downed four ibuprofen, sloshing tap water around in his mouth to keep the slew of cuss words in; he felt like crying, but he knew that men were stronger than that. Daddy issues wouldn't break Richard Tozier. Certainly not daddy issues, Richie thought.

Real men didn't cry, Richie reminded himself.

I will not cry over him, he told himself, and went back to surveying the lethal purple color on his ribs.

That night, both boys lay in bed; Eddie crying, the taste of a baby blue pill on his tongue, and Richie, praying a savior would come and rescue him from the hellhole he called home.