hope ur ok || richie angst book 👍

All My Words Fall Short.

Richie stirred awake, glancing up at his alarm. It was beeping loud throughout his ears, and he reached to slam it off. Falling out of bed, he slammed his fist into the alarm, which caused the machine to fall off of the bedside table and onto Richie's head, who lied on the floor now.

"Shit!" he yelped, wrapping his arms around his head. Richie closed his eyes again and tried not to fall asleep, for he had just became tired before the alarm went off.

He had hardly gotten any sleep, partly because it wasn't loud enough. Growing up with constant yelling and screaming during the night was traumatic, yet once it sunk in and he learned how to sleep through it, it was hard to sleep without it.

After a hot minute of lying on the ground, he pulled himself to his hands and knees and crawled his way over to his closet, snatching clothes and sliding them on tiredly.

He got ready lazily, going down to the kitchen to grab his bag and set off. There, he met his father, who sat in front of the refrigerator, slouched and tired. Wentworth eyed Richie, who was avoiding eye contact and just wanted to leave.

"I hope you have a fucking terrible day at school," Wentworth blurted out out of the blue.

"Damn. Who pissed in your coffee?" Richie mumbled. The fridge door slammed and Richie jumped, jerking his head to the sudden, loud noise. His father walked up to him and grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"Don't you fucking disrespect me. I'm your father. Treat me like it," he spat.

"I'm your son. Treat me like it," Richie mocked back, only to be punched in the face and thrown to the ground. Everything spun and he felt his eyes growing tired. Everything was blurry, and a loud ringing sounded in his ears to the point anything else was fuzzy.

"I will never refer to you as a son. You hear me?!" Wentworth screamed. When Richie didn't respond, his father scoffed, kicking the boy in the shin one time before rolling his eyes and leaving.

Richie closed his eyes for at least five minutes, having to force himself awake so that he would make it to school on time. He scrambled out the door, grabbed his bike and began to ride to school, crying a little on the way.

He dropped his bike in front of the school and heavily made his way to the front to find the Losers for yet another dreadful day at school. He found it hard to pick up his feet, even harder to pick up his head. Richie shuffled with his head hung low and his hands in his pockets.

"Rich!" someone called and Richie looked up, squinting from the sudden light. He watched as Bill fanned him over to the rest of the Losers and get back to talking to them as he waited. Richie sighed and walked over to them, not feeling up to being there.

Upon arrival, he walked up to Beverly and slowly wrapped his arms around her. She cocked an eyebrow and hugged him back.

"You okay, hon?" she asked genially, but he didn't answer. His eyes were closed and his face was buried into the girl's shoulder. Richie let most of his body weight be carried by Beverly, who stood, hugging him back in question.

"Uh? Richie, what's wrong?" Eddie asked, causing all of the Losers' attention to be on the exhausted boy.

Richie shook his head and held onto Beverly tighter. "You're scaring me, what happened?" she asked.

"Nothing," he mumbled quietly into her shoulder.

"No, it's not nothing. You're not normally like this," she argued lightly.

"I'm okay. I promise," he tried to convince.

Beverly shook her head and the Losers exchanged looks, no body daring to say anything.