The Aftermath (Reddie)

2

Eddie's POV

My mom drove me to school. The only reason I was allowed to leave the house was because grades were important to her. More important than the fact that I showed up late covered in nasty mud after killing a clown.

My mom had been babying me since then. I couldn't leave the house, I had to basically stay in bed for the rest of the break. Which fucking sucked. But it wasn't like I wanted to hang out with my friends.

I almost died. I broke me arm. I was vulnerable and weak, like what my mother had always insisted. I had always wanted to believe that deep down it wasn't true. That I was a fighter, a brave soul, fearless.

But I wasn't.

I was a pussy.

I was weak and broken. I was ashamed.

I had arrived five minutes before the first bell. Five whole minutes to scramble to my locker and hide from my friends. And to hope that I didn't have any classes with the people who had seen proof of my vulnerability.

Bill, Stan, Mike, Beverly, Ben...even Richie.

I was too ashamed to even face my best friend.

My locker was right next to the nurses office, upon request from my mother. I had hardly anything to put in my locker since my mother insisted I just carry my backpack around. My arm was too weak to carry books according to my mother. She was probably right too.

"Hey faggot,"

Fucking bullies. I had not missed them at all during the summer, even when I stared into that stupid clowns eyes and felt his rancid flesh eating breath on my face. I stared straight into my locker and waited for the pushing and the shoving that usually followed their stupid name calling.

But it never came.

The insult wasn't directed at me. Which was odd, out of everyone in the friend group I was most likely to be called queer or gay or girly boy or some other related word. I was used to the slurs.

I turned to look for the victim.

A group of seniors were surrounding someone who had their back to me.

But the curly black hair was recognizable anywhere.

It was Richie.

Richie Tozier who always made stupid jokes that were wildly inappropriate and sexual. Richie who always made sure I was okay even after facing his own torments by the killer clown. He was the bravest person I knew. And I hadn't seen him since the sewers.

"You still trying to get in to Bower's pants?" They were taunting him.

I walked up to the group. Maybe if I showed Richie I was brave, we could be friends again. Maybe he could forgive me for being such a pussy. Maybe things could be okay again.

Richie was surrounded, he looked panicked. He looked scared. I hadn't seen him that scared and panicked since the sewers.

They were all laughing at him, calling him names.

What was I supposed to do? It's not like I could beat them up. I was tiny, I knew that. I was scared as hell too. I really wanted to help Richie, but yet again I was a pussy.

Richie was saved by the bell.

The seniors left Richie, they knew the dean would start patrolling the halls for kids if they didn't get to class in the next minute.

I just stared at Richie as he picked him books back up. I was clutching my aspirator, just in case.

His face was red, his shoulders were slumped.

Shameful tears threatened to spill onto my cheeks as I watched him trudge to class.

I couldn't even be brave enough to save my best friend.

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Holy dang.

I realized why this book is so much more emotional. It is much easier for me to write emotions for fictional characters, its super awkward writing about real people tbh. It just feels wrong.

So sorry but I am going to make this book super emotional and heartbreaking but also hopefully wholesome.

I decided to focus more on the trauma and mental health of the characters I guess...