That Night

one

"You're right, Rich," the cracking voice of the boy still rang over and over in his head. "I guess it never mattered."

Richie slammed his bedroom door shut in a sorrow and hopelessness fueled rage. He wasn't mad at his parents, his friends, his bullies, no one. No one but himself. He threw his body down onto his bed carelessly, fiercely wiping away the hot tears that wouldn't stop spilling out of his eyes. "Fuckin' pussy," he hissed at himself. He shouldn't be crying, this was his own fault. Richie sat up, empty, desperately looking for something to calm his nerves, drown out the events of the last two hours, drown them. Drown them; 'That's it,' he thought.

The boy quickly found himself fiddling through the books on the highest shelf of his parents bookshelf. His fingers ran across the wood and spines and found themselves on something small and cold. Bingo. Richie pulled out the small silver key from behind the books and worked his body over to the  locked brown liquor cabinet next to his parents window. The boy fumbled with the lock quickly; he had to get out of here before his parents knew he found the key. Click. The doors fell open.

On the other side of Derry's small residential area, another boy threw himself onto his bed. He had locked his bedroom door, turned off his lights, and buried his face in his pillow. He pushed his short brown locks off of his face and sighed deeply. "Was I right?" he whispered out loud to himself, feeling the tears well up in his eyes as he remembered the words that carved through his heart. "Yes." he tried to convince himself.

"Eddie-bear?" a female voice called from downstairs. "Not now, mommy," the boy answered quickly, trying not to sound too desperate. "Please!" Eddie flopped back onto his back and brought his small shaking hands to his face. "You did the right thing," his voice was breaking, he couldn't stop the tears. "You did the right thing, Eds." He sat up quickly, almost choking at what he just said. "No," he scolded himself. "No! You don't call yourself that, Eddie! Never again! Not after tonight."

The boy walked over to his mirror, staring at his reflection in the glass. He strained at what he saw hanging on the corner of his mirror. With no other thought he tore the picture off his mirror and crumpled it up, tossing it into his trash can. Eddie then took off a small silver necklace hanging around his neck, hidden by his shirt. He stared at the pendent; "R".

Tears started to well up again. He furiously wiped his eyes and tossed the necklace into the trash bin, on top of the picture of him and a lean curly haired boy with glasses and a big mouth. "Never again." He reassured himself. Eddie flopped down on his bed, and didn't get to sleep until four am that night, he couldn't sleep, he had to take all of their pictures down. He couldn't sleep peacefully until he knew all of the polaroids and photos of him, and a boy with big glasses and a bigger mouth, were resting where they belonged; in the garbage. He smiled to himself and whispered softly before letting sleep overtake him.

"Never again."