Wrong

•25•

⚠ Talk of abuse, suicidal thoughts, something else (I don't know how to describe it but it's really messed up and bad, good luck!!) ⚠

*Richie's POV*

"Well Spaghetti Head, we're home sweet home!" I said as I opened to door to my apartment.

"Yeah I know, I've been here before." Eddie giggled. I blushed and smiled down at him.

"Right, obviously. So you can stay in my room, I'll sleep on the pullout couch. And-"

"Oh no no no, that's ok! You sleep in your own bed, I don't mind the couch." Eddie interrupted.

"You sure, Eds? I don't mind..."

"I'm sure," he smiled at me. "What else?"

"Uh, I'll put your things in the closet over here, you can change in the bathrooms every morning and night. That should be it? Anything else?"

"No, that's good."

"Okie dokie, Eddie Spaghetti! If you need anything, I'll be in my room. Goodnight!" I said, walking into my bedroom.

"Night Rich."

•°•

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

An alarm went off at 7:00 am. I usually wake up at, like, 11. Why is it going off so early?

"What... OH!" Shit, how could I forget? I quickly got dressed in a fancier outfit than I usually wear.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked as I rushed out of my room,

"Well, I didn't want to tell anyone in case I didn't get the job, but I started studying to be a professor. I have an interview for an Assistant Professor at the College of the Atlantic. And it's starting in a half hour, so I gotta go, but I'll see you later Eds!" I said and rushed out of the apartment.

I feel bad for leaving him, but he's been at my house enough to know where everything is.

I quickly started up my car and drove the 3 minutes to the college. I composed myself before walking out of my car and into the Headmaster's office.

"Hello," I said to the assistant at the front desk. "Richard Tozier, here for an interview."

I internally cringed at my full name. My dad was the only person who would call me that, and I only associate my parents with bad memories.

Days when my mom would be too drunk to notice a giant bruise on my face, either from Bowers or Father. Days when Father had a bad day at work and took it out on me. Days when they wouldn't even acknowledge my existence. I would have to make meals for myself, they didn't care if I ate or not.

Hell, the reason I started smoking in the first place was because of them. My mom was usually drunk and always high. She forced me to start smoking with her when I was 13. That's when Bev joined the Losers, and she always had a pack on her. So I started smoking as a way to relieve the pain.

The Losers just thought my parents neglected me. I never told any of them the truth. But it's ok, really, it's the least of our problems. The rest of them deserve that extra attention, not me.

"Mr. Tozier? Headmaster Walters is ready for you." Mary, the assistant, called from her desk. I nodded my head at her and headed into the main office.

•°•

"Eddie," I screamed, running into the apartment. "Guess what! I got the job!"

But Eddie wasn't anywhere in sight.