Elusive Dreaming

Nightmarish- Richie Tozier

Warning some words can be viewed as triggering

Nightmarish-Richie Tozier

Henry Bowers was your brother's twin to be exact. You watched day by day Henry ragging on different kids. If you were to step out of line Henry would become pissed. Although he would never sink low enough to hurt you. Somewhere inside Henry was a heart, small like the Grinch or mass murder.

No one would ever see that he cared for you or his friends. One group he bullied stuck out in particular. They called themselves the Losers Club consisting of Eddie Kaspbrack, a hypochondriac who talks a mile a minute. Stanley Uris is basically an old man who enjoyed bird watching.

Next in their club was Bill Denbrough he was like their ring leader after his little brother Georgie died Henry took a break until summer hit.

Being the only girl in the club was Beverly Marsh, Greta Bowie took to bullying her after Henry started a rumor that she slept with him.

In reality, Henry couldn’t get any head if he prostituted himself along Hollywood Boulevard. Henry bullied their whole club for various reasons Ben Hanscom’s was because he was the new kid and he had a bit of meat on his bones.

I never took part in any of my brother’s torments. I knew their harmful vengeance would cause the wrathful jaws of karma to bite him one day. Maybe even swallow himself and his goons he calls friends whole.

Next on the line was the only black kid in the group. Mike Hanlon was his name; he works down at his grandfather's farm delivering meat to the local shops.

My brother being the prejudice that he strived for would become a racist though he knew no better than to obey our father and his ways. Mike was a nice kid and really generous but he was still homeschooled on his family farm. Derry Maine might have been a small town but it was sure as hell lively.

Who would have thought a small town would be bustling with the latest gossip about some suburban wife named Cindy having an affair with someone else's husband. Sometime it felt like their needed to be a fourth wall break in the soap opera of Derry Maine. After Mike was the last loser Richie Tozier.

The Trashmouth as his friends called him is known for not having any filter and disregarding the kindergarten knowledge of “think before you speak”. Richie may have not been the best to keep calm in an emergency situation because humo could only get a man so far.

Yet he was the one you hoped for your brother to rag on the least. A small school chum crush as some may call it was developed over the years on the small Tozier boy with thick turtle shell lenses too wide for his small face. Richie always wore a tacky Hawaiian shirt with some pair of jean shorts.

He could pull off the “dad on vacation” look. Throughout the summer you found yourself adapting into the Losers club and becoming an ally for them. Against all odds Henry couldn’t care less.

That summer he sucked Patrick Hockestter's dick so hard he vanished. In other words a killer demonic clown older than Stanley was killing the kids. Some speculated that it was the games we played outside. Or the news preached about video game usage and how it was killing us. Turning our minds into mush.

“Babe we have to go,” Richie broke the silence “Tozier I told you not to flirt with me or call me babe,” You told him brushing off his arm from around you. In reality you did like that he flirted with you even the subtle humors remarks made you warm.

By the end of the summer Nightmare on Elm Street would be the least of your worries. As Pennywise the clown had clawed his way in between your friendships.

You sided with Richie knowing that going back in would be the death of all of you. The distance growing between you all was futile growing the vines thick covering fact from fiction.

Lines began to blur like a drunk in the rain. Stumbling months later your brother had created a nightmare of himself. Murdering your father in cold blood.

Knowing he was abusive towards Henry and beating him was a tell tale heart story for another day. At that time you were with the losers.

As Henry barged in you saw a gleam in his eyes he was gone. Splattered in blood that wasn’t his own with a knife your father kept for safety reasons. “Henry please,” you pleaded, backing into a corner that seemed like something out of a movie. Eventually Richie became your knight in shining armor.

Richie whacked Henry upside the head with a tin trash can lid. Mike was loading his gun ready to fire on Henry. Henry to a fall down to hell. Or somewhere you hoped the well did seem to have a never ending bottom. Children began to float after the war was over or put to a hult. Henry was gone or so you thought. You were now an orphan but you saved the day and made a great group of friends that wouldn’t remember you as they moved away.

Years passed Richie wasn’t one to remember those nightmarish days. Soon enough you got married and tried to live the picket fence lifestyle. Only struggling with the aspect that your husband was a famous comedian and you were an artist. Your paintings reselbid the days of your youth without triggering memories. Although familiar not to remember your nightmarish days as a teen in Derry Maine.