Five - Lonley

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"Hi?" Eddie whispered confused, "Umm, hi Richard... what do you -erm what do you want?"

His body felt tired and strung along on a foreboding nausea in his chest. It was like his body was desperately trying to tell him he should be afraid but his head was choosing to ignore it.
After all, in Eddie's eyes their was nothing more scary than living people. His mother especially, and she had just been in time to remind him of that.

The pointer began to move again.

"Shit," Eddie whispered scrambling to his feet. A sudden, and much needed, sensation of adrenaline corrupting his bloodstream.
He dashed across his room, stubbing his toe on the leg of his desk,
"Shit!" He cursed, this time even louder.

He fumbled around in the dark for a piece of paper and a pen. Only when he was satisfied by feeling the thick leather cover of his notebook did he return to the Ouija board and the ominous glowing mist that contaminated the air around it.

Eddie watched patiently, scribbling down each letter the pointer landed on until proper words were formed.

"I am lonley," Eddie read aloud after putting together all of the letters. He paused for a moment. A sharp cold shiver suddenly coursing through him. He felt sick again.
Suddenly all he could think about was what people would think of this.
Crazy Eddie Kaspbrak the ghost boy is actually talking to the ghosts now. It would be the talk of the school. People would think he was even more fucking insane then what they currently thought of him.
However there was another argument plaguing Eddie's mind.
There was something very innocent and tender about the vibe given of by this spirit. Although Richard had said otherwise, he felt harmless to Eddie. He just wanted to talk to Eddie because he was lonley. And boy did Eddie know what it felt like to be lonely.

"Fuck this," Eddie murmured, "I must be insane."

He took a deep breath.

The small boy then tapped his pen on the paper to show he was ready to continue. Not that the ghost could tell that's what that meant.

"Okay Richard," Eddie whispered, "I have to ask. Do you still want to hurt me?"

The piece began to shift. Letter after letter.
Eddie scribbled it down as quickly as he could, not pausing to try and guess the words before Richard had finished.

Once the pointer became motionless again, Eddie finally read what he had written. He smirked slightly at what he saw.

It read 'No, I was joking. You can't take a joke'

Wow. This ghost had a sense of humour. What the fuck? Is that a thing?

Eddie must definitely be crazy. 100%. There was no other logical explanation.

"Okay," Eddie chuckled lightly, the remaining nervousness leaving his body, "Are their any other surprises I need to know about you Richard?"

The piece moved and Eddie wrote the letters down quickly once again.

He finally looked back at the words he had just written. He smiled when he saw it. Just at the pure absurdity of his situation.

It read: 'I like to be called Richie'

                             *****

When the next day of school rolled around Eddie made a decision he didn't think he'd have to make. He was going to pretend he forgot to bring the Ouija board to school.
This was a dumb idea and he knew it... but talking to Richie, an actual ghost, had him hooked. He didn't want to give away his only means of talking to him.
He was desperate to continue this insane encounter with the spirit but he was also desperate to keep Mike and Beverly as friends. He was scared forgetting the board may jeopardise that. That, as-well as the comment his mother had made calling Beverly out for being a slut. He could tell it had really hurt her and that hurt Eddie.

Eddie spent every break and through the beginning of lunch looking for her, only being successful at the end, 10 minutes before the bell for 4th period.

"Eddie!" She snapped, grabbing his attention as she weaved through the mass of people, "Eddie do you have Mike's board?"
She had an unusual coldness to her voice and it was clear she was still unhappy about his mother's comment, just as he feared.

"Um- about that," Eddie said, cringing at his own bad lying, "I forgot to bring it, my mum chased me out this morning,"

She raised her hand to her forehead in frustration, "Mike is going to kill me. Eddie how could you possibly forget?!"

"I'm really sorry," He said, raising his hands up in surrender, "And I'm also sorry about what my mom called you,"

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, the pain she was hiding visible to Eddie.
"Whatever."

Ouch. That stung.

Beverly began to turn away. It was clear her feelings were still badly hurt that Eddie hadn't spoken out against his mother to defend a friend.

"Come on Bev," Eddie pleaded, it was painfully clear that he wasn't good at these kind of 'friend' scenarios, "Beverly what happened last night was incredible, please don't be mad... look on the bright side."

She stopped walking and turned to face him again. This time the sadness on her face had turned to anger,
"Don't tell me to look on the bright side Eddie Kaspbrak. I was up all night with nightmares because of you. Last night was NOT incredible and as far as I'm concerned we didn't see anything... it must've all been in your head... you are crazy after all."

Eddie stepped back. His face falling.

Crazy. Beverly thinks he is crazy.

Tears began to well up in his eyes as he nervously grabbed the hem of his shirt.

Beverly stood their, astounded by her own outburst. She couldn't believe she had just said something so mean.
She looked at Eddie as his face contorted to try and stop the tears from falling. She had done that to him.
"Eddie I'm so-,"

"Save it." He spat, his voice cracking slightly. He turned around and pushed past the small crowd that had begun to build up.

Fuck Beverly. Fuck having friends. She was just like Bill Denbrough. A backstabber.
Eddie didn't need friends. He thought he did but now he knew for sure. All friends seemed to do was be nice to him for a while before they started calling him crazy like the others.

Fuck them. Fuck them all.

Mike probably hates him too. He probably got into trouble for not bringing the board home to his grandfather.

It didn't matter.

Eddie had no friends... except one.
And he didn't need any except that one.

Eddie indeed had no friends... no friends that were living.

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