𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐫

authors note: trigger warning - slight suicidal ideation

R

Richie, who of course had no idea where he was going, pulled up a directions app on his phone. He used his unoccupied hand to shield his cracked phone screen, which was dimmed because of the blazing sun. He scrolled, touching the heated screen until he found directions to a simple grocery store that wasn't too far away. He was confused as he pulled out of the opening where his car was parked, wondering how close it could be. The grassy area seemed to be rural and very much so in the middle of nowhere. It gave Richie a sort of serenity that felt like it was supposed to immensely calm him. This feeling took over so much so that it felt unnatural. Richie felt he wasn't supposed to be at peace with himself.

He sighed, feeling the heat from the sun beam down from him. He rolled down his window, feeling a refreshing breeze of chilly air come through, blowing back his hair as he drove at a bit of a faster speed. His feeling of being unbearable hot was quenched with the breeze, and Richie inhaled the cool air, fully taking it in. It felt... nice. He got an old feeling his used to get, one he hadn't gotten in a while.

The world always seemed so bleak to him. So monotone. Colorless, even. Unless he was on something, and even then, it always felt as if the world's pigmented was just a few shades off. The saturation was far below normal, leaving the world with a cold look and a faded vignette surrounding his field of vision.

Sometimes Richie would get these little bursts of energy. These emotions or rushes from simple things that made him crave more of this feeling of being alive. That made him not feel like he was the only one in the world who felt terrible almost all the time. That made him feel like maybe the world wouldn't be a better place if he just stopped breathing. In this moment, the feeling was strong, like a glowing orb inside of him that made him want to keep on a few more months. It felt like an extra push he really needed, especially through the past few days. He felt the thoughts of wanting to just end it all start to fade away. Not completely, but much more drastically than before. The intrusive, disquieting thoughts that made him wonder what would happen if he just turned the steering wheel a little bit and slammed on the gas. Just turned the car and swerved off the roads. Or the thoughts of walking of taking a couple extra pills, just a few more than he'd taken before.

He'd had those thoughts so many times that he'd lost count.

Richie cleared his throat, trying not to let his reminiscing distract him from right now. Just this moment. That was all he needed to focus on. As he continued driving, he noticed a small, humble town. It reminded him partially of some town back in Derry. Not bustling, overpopulated and busy like the city was. Quiet. Simple. The same, regular people coming through for things like their daily coffee, or picking up their medication from the pharmacy.

He pulled into a park in front of the tiny grocery store which was placed in between a thrift store and a laundromat. Once he put his car into park, his other hand left the steering wheel. He felt his hands growing sweaty, immediately feeling a small pang of anxiety flow through him because of the forced interaction he was about to have to have. He opened the door a bit, then closed it, realising if it was really worth it to get out. He could just tell Eddie that there were no stores nearby, or that everything was closed because of some bullshit holiday. While the door was half-way closed, Richie remembered what he said. "I want to take care of you, Eds." Richie let out an annoyed sigh, letting the thought cling to the front of his mind for a while longer. After a second, he convinced himself to get out of the car, opening the door all the way and stepping out. He shut it, the pressure from his making a loud slamming noise. He looked up at the cerulean sky, scattered with cirrus clouds that looked like soft wisps of snow white hair. The bird's melodic songs filled his ears. Everything felt simple again. Besides the battles he was facing in his mind.

Richie walked into the store, holding the flimsy door open for a mother and her two young children. He tried to keep his head down, walking straight towards the coffee aisle, which was aisle seven. It wasn't much of a walk because of the store's size, so Richie figured it would be easier to get in and out of the place. He browsed the brands and prices. The cheapest one was a two dollar container of instant coffee, so he grabbed that and walked out of the aisle. He looked at the caps at the end of the aisles, picking up a pack of spearmint Orbit gum as well.Then he remembered. Shit. He had like, five dollars. He figured this was good enough for now. He stepped into the short line at the register. Why didn't you ask Eddie for money, idiot? Or not spend seven fucking dollars on cigarettes that you shouldn't even be using, dumbass.

Richie felt pressure building up. Not just from his own inner dialogue, but from the town. It was just too Derry. It brought back all of his times with the Losers. The good and the bad. He tried to smile, but he felt tears come to his eyes. Shit. Not here, not now. He tried to stop them, but a few trickled slowly down his face. He attempted to dry them by dabbing them with his sleeve of his hoodie. He stared into space for a second, feeling as if he was reliving all of his Derry memories. All of them.

"Sir?" He heard a voice, likely addressing him. A sharpness panged in his chest, sending him back to reality. He looked up to see a young girl, probably about his age, who was assumed to be the cashier. Richie let out a sort of noise, sounding like two words jumbled together -"Huh?" and "What?". "I asked if you wanted these two items bagged." She said, with an awkward shakiness in her voice. 'Shit, you fuck up. You probably scared her. Say something.' "Bagged? Uh..." 'Say. Something. Be normal. Smile.' Richie smiled, his tired eyes making the smile look a bit menacing, almost. "No, it doesn't have to be bagged." He said, jumbling the words together, almost slurring them. 'Please be normal.' he tried to plead with himself. "Okay..." The girl said, quickly bagging them. He felt her giving him occasional glances. "Here's your receipt." She said. Right when Richie was about to grab his items and get the hell out of there, she leaned forward, her blonde hair hanging down with the shift in gravity. "If you need help, you can tell me..." The girl whispered in his ear in a very cautious voice. What the fuck?

Richie was taken aback, not knowing whether to be confused or angry. Does she think I escaped from a goddamn psych ward? He tried his best to bite his tongue and hastily picked up his two items. Then, he made a decision. He was going to be angry. He slammed his coffee back down, making a loud noise. The girl's head shot up, staring at Richie in shock. "You know what? I do fucking need help. And it's assholes like you who make that harder for me to accept that." He said, raising his voice a significant amount. A few customers turned around to face him, stopping their daily shopping.

"W-What?" She said, stammering a little bit over her words. 'Oh my god. Stop. Talking.' "Yeah, that's right. And-And maybe you don't get told that often because you're pretty, or because you're popular, or because you're straight," He said, his face growing redder from anger. "But you don't get to treat people like shit just because you aren't disgusting." He said, his voice breaking. He was trying to stay strong, but he was just so angry all of a sudden. The uncalled for rage poured inside of him, boiling like a steaming kettle. "I was just asking if you were okay because you were crying-" She said, her voice breaking as well as a few terrified tears came down her face. 'Leave this poor girl alone.' thought the wiser part of himself. "And you can all turn the fuck around!" He shouted to the customers, some quickly hurrying to the back of the store at the loud reactions. Stop. Right. Now. "Don't try to act all innocent now. You know what you did, you sloppy bitch." He said, the words still refusing to stop coming out. She was almost bawling at this point, and so was Richie. He grabbed his stuff and stuck out his middle finger as he walked out of the door.

He rushed to his car, getting in, opening it and shutting it quickly. He put his head on the steering wheel, punching the car's horn, sending a loud, intense blaring noise throughout the once quiet town. He tried to get himself under control, but he just couldn't. He cried so hard he thought he was choking, being unable to breathe. 'What the fuck is happening? Get it under control.' he tried to tell himself. He felt his chest tighten, and any lust for life he'd previously had was gone. In an instant. He took a couple deep breaths, as much as he could, and started to drive, his hands still shaking and him still gasping for any chance of breath and release that he could get.