adjectives | reddie

three - happy

i sat on the brown reclining chair, running my fingers down the tiny rips of the chair that revealed the yellow foam. my vision became blurry from staring too long at the bright screen in a dark, dark room. my mom was out getting the monthly groceries, so i sat home alone without a thing to do.

the muffled noise of whatever show that was playing sounded over the loud air conditioning system. the air was no longer the perfect temperature. it was cold.

i hated the cold. i liked the feeling of having a warm face that made my mom question if i have a fever; if only she didn't think i had a fever.

i felt my whole body jump and my heart skip a beat as the landline abruptly rang. i let out a long sigh after finally calming down. "if it's important, they'll leave a message," i told myself. the phone continued ringing until it finally cut off. forty-five seconds later, a message echoed through the house after it sounded the loud, high-pitched beep.

"hi eddie," i heard stanley's grumbling, low voice. you could hear him take a deep breath. between his hushed tone and the obvious closely you could mistake for an intimate moment with the phone and himself, i could tell he was trying to be quiet. he spoke again, "i know you didn't feel like answering the phone yourself. i really hope your mom doesn't hear this." he chuckled.

before stanley spoke again, you could hear something crash near him. stanley sighed dramatically. "he's here, eddie," stanley explained, "if you and bill were serious, you'll come over here and become friends. even if you weren't, please come over anyways. bye."

i heard the click of the other line.

my hands gripped tightly around the arms of the chair to push myself off of the recliner. i grabbed and popped the three pills that were left on my table, not bothering to get a drink of water, and waltzed out of the door. my eyes wandered along the front of my house until i eyed the bike that i left on my driveway. lifting one leg over the big metal piece, i mounted myself on the bike. i started to pedal down the street, traveling through the route to stanley's house mindlessly.

my bike bounced up and down on every pothole i hit. derry never spent the money they had to fill holes. i've hit the same holes ever since i was able to ride my bike. instead, the city gave most of their money to the high school, assuming the school would use the money for educational purposes instead of mostly on the football team, which was notorious for losing. i never understood why the football team needed new uniforms every year. it was probably because the absent-minded jocks needed something to be proud of; it's not like the popular jocks had anywhere to go after high school.

i wanted to go off and do something with my life outside of this sad town with its odd weather. i want a daughter named abbie and a golden retriever in some city where there are a ton of happy families. i want her to be happy and not be stuck in the derry cycle. i want to leave and never come back, so abbie doesn't have to have this dream, too. that was something those jocks would never do. high school in derry is the best they'll have.

tragic.

i turned my bike onto stanley's street. he always lived on the street i thought was the liveliest. kids were always outside, and gardens were planted outside. the houses were always clean and well decorated instead of old and dilapidated. stanley's house sat in the middle of it all: a quaint ranch styled house with newly cut grass and a clean appearance.

after stopping my bike on the driveway, i hopped off and ran up to the door. my hand grabbed onto the knob tightly and twisted the door open, not bothering to knock. "stanley!" i called out.

"down here!"

stanley's voice came from down his basement. his voice seemed desperate and irritated. i heard someone let out a loud moan, but they quickly laughed afterward; richie.