Delusional. {IT 2017}

5.

Despite the turmoil in his personal life, Richie continued to put on a brave face and make jokes, especially at school. Around his friends.

Although surprisingly, Richie arrived at school the next morning, starting off the horrid Monday with a heavy chest but a desire to stay happy for his friends.

The Losers were incredibly shocked to see him walking their way, surprised he was even at school with that severe of a black eye and under his circumstances. Everyone had to have known by now.

"Hey, Losers," Richie said, walking up to the group.

"Uh— hey, Rich," Beverly spoke first. "You're here?"

"Yep! Here as here can be! I know, I'm surprised too, I really should be with Ms. K," Richie sighed fakely.

Beverly shared a glance with both Eddie and Bill, sucking in a breath and took notice that Richie didn't want to talk about it.

"You have that money with ya?" Beverly asked.

"Oh.. shit! Uh- no..?" Richie said.

"Richie!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I'll just avoid Bowers today! No problamo."

"You say that now, good luck," Stanley added as the group started their way towards the building.

"Aw, Stan's being nice!" Richie commented.

Being the close-knitted group they were, the Losers all took quick notice into Richie's behavior and grew more concerned. They knew very well that behind the laughter was excellently well hidden pain. If you weren't a member of the Losers Club.

And of course, since Henry and Richie did go to the same school together, they ran into each other at a point. Henry squinted his eyes and slammed Richie's back into the locker, holding the boy by the shoulders.

"Ya got my money, faggot?"

"Uh.. I—"

"It's a yes or fucking no answer, Tozier."

"Fucking no."

Henry threw his fist sharply at Richie's face, his head flying to the side.

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT IT?!"

"I DON'T HAVE IT, FUCKING KILL ME THEN! Exactly. You're scared because if you kill me your dad will bea—"

Henry threw non-stop punches at Richie's face, seven in a row before a muffled voice yelled in the distance.

"GET OFF OF HIM!" screamed one.

"Let him go!" yelled another.

With one more yelp, Richie was sent back to the ground, coughing and holding himself up. He glared up at Henry, who was being taken away by the principal himself.

"Loser," a sharp whisper rang in Richie's ear, making him jump and look around.

"Richie! Richie?! Are you okay?!" Beverly chanted, her voice distant though she was right in front of him. The echoey noise of ringing overtook the majority of Richie's hearing.

"G-G-Get the nurse," Bill instructed to someone, who did so.

"I'm fine," Richie whispered, trying to brush Bill's hand off of his arm.

That afternoon after school, as the group gathered at their usual meeting spot in the clubhouse, they couldn't help but notice Richie's seemingly unaffected demeanor. Even after Henry Bowers. Bill, the de facto leader of the group, was of course the first to speak up about it and address the elephant in the room.

"Hey, uh, Ri-Rich, we've all noticed how y-y-you've been acting all day.." Bill started, unknowing of how to bring it up though his voice filled with concern. "But uh.. we all know about your dad and your situation and w-we just wanted to know if you truly are o-o-okay?"

Richie, caught off-guard by the directness of the question, paused for a moment. His usual sarcastic smile faded, revealing a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" he replied, his voice slightly wavering. "Just.. trying to keep things light, you know?"

The Losers exchanged glances, sensing that Richie might not be entirely truthful. Though, they understood the way he was, someone who put up a facade to protect themselves from the pain they were going through. They decided to respect Richie's boundaries and not push further, at least for now.

Eddie, the cautious and observant one of the group, spoke up. "Alright, Rich, just remember we're here for you if you wanna talk about it."

"Yeah okay, thanks, topic change!" Richie exclaimed, trying to brush their sympathy from his shoulders.

"Ehh.." Ben subsided, "do you guys wanna play cards?"

"Sure!" Beverly said, adjusting on the floor into a more comfortable position.

Ben brought out a stack of evenly put together cards that held together by a band. He took the stretchy rubber off and placed it to the side, handing out seven cards to each player.

As the game played on, the round was only halfway through as a loud whisper began crippling through the air. Richie looked up, nobody seeming to hear it. Nobody but him.

Richie internally freaked out, breaking into a sweat and slight pant. What the hell was that? Why was he the only would who could hear it?

He tried his best to brush it off, playing a card based only on the colors he could see, due to his blurry vision, which caused him inability to see numbers.

"That's a draw two, idiot," Eddie scolded playfully.

"What? Oh, okay, let's uh, let's see here," Richie choked out, reaching for the cards and pulling two. He put down the same card as before and immediately was yanked back into his thoughts once his turn was over.

Eddie glanced over at Richie and rubbed his shoulder, having the slight feeling he knew why Richie was acting the way he was, just hoping it wasn't crushing his mood.

Seemingly quickly, to Richie, his turn was up again, Eddie having to shake him a bit to snap him out of his thoughts.

"What?" Richie asked. "Sorry."

"Rich, are you okay? You've been zoned out this entire game," Beverly asked.

Richie fully snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes darting around nervously. "Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Just lost in my own world, you know?"

"Oh come on, Richie. Y-You can tell us, you kn-know that. Is it about..?" Bill pushed. Richie hesitated, his mind racing. He knew better than to tell them. It was probably just his imagination anyway.

"Nah, it's really nothing. Just tired, I guess," Richie brushed off.

"You sure? You seem kinda scared. Are you sick?" Eddie pressured further.

Richie forced a smile, trying to hide his fear. "Scared? Pssh, nah, you guys are just imagining things! I'm fine, really."

As the conversation continued, Richie's mind drifted back to the voice he heard earlier. It was a whisper, a sinister presence that sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't shake off the feeling that it wasn't just his imagination.

That night, Richie lied in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was filled with eerie silence, broken only by the distant sound of crickets.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Richie whispered as he begged. No response. Richie's heart raced, his palms sweaty. He couldn't escape the feeling that he was being watched, even in the safety of his own room.

He felt insane. His chest was heavy, huffing slightly. Not only that, he felt the need to scream. Was he going crazy? Once and for all? All he could read from this situation was that the Losers would not know as long as he had something to do about it.