hard times// eddie + richie // IT

stan's aftermath

crash!

my head hit the green tile floor of my bathroom. i vaguely remember being asleep. i walk to my bedroom and check the calendar. (put another x on the calendar, summer's on its deathbed..) june 30th. it's been almost a month since i had gone to the arcade with richie! the house downstairs was completely quiet. i couldn't even hear my mother humming from wherever she was in the house.
the silence was eerie.
my house was never silent. my mother said her biggest fear was always complete silence, so there was always some sort of sound in the house. i never really understood that fear until now. maybe she went out? or what if something horrible awaits me downstairs? i crept down the stairs, quiet and slow. no dead bodies or blood on the walls. that's a good sign. i walked past the giant fish tank in the hallway.
i stopped to tap the glass. i never wanted fish. it was. bird i wanted, but my parents never wanted to have to take care of it or hear it squawk. the door was open, wide. no mother.
richie and eddie stood on the sidewalk outside my house. from what i could tell, they seemed upset about something. i peeked out of the door. if he was paying attention, richie could have spotted me. he was obviously preoccupied.
"you know what, eddie?" richie asked, a break in his voice. eddie shook his head quickly.
"i'm tired of you doing this shit, richie!" eddie exclaimed. richie looked taken aback.
"thi-this shit, eddie? i'm the one constantly holding you up when you're dying or whatever!" eddie glared at richie.
"holding me up? who nursed you back to health when your dad beat the shit out if you?" richie clenched his fists.
"you drugged me!" richie screamed.
"i thought we were over this! i was just trying to help!" eddie yelled, his voice wavering. richie rolled his eyes.
"maybe if you weren't such a hypochondriac we could do some shit! like normal people!"
"maybe if you weren't such a trashmouth we could talk to people without you getting punched in the face!"
both of the boys looked at each other. instead of love or sadness on their faces, i could only see hatred.
"y-you caused stan to jump. you know that." eddie pointed a shaking finger at richie. a single tear fell from richie's face.
"no, i didn't. you take that back! y-you-you-" eddie laughed.
"wow! what a surprise! the trashmouth can't even think of a comeback!" eddie mocked. another tear ran over richie's cheekbone and cascaded down his cheek.
"i'm sorry," richie whispered.
"well i'm not, richie." suddenly, richie's tears stopped.
"what?" richie asked, and from the door, i could feel his heart breaking.
"you heard me. i'm not sorry!" eddie yelled. his heart was obviously flaming. richie was now shaking.
"w-we are done!" richie cried. eddie's heart stopped flaming.
"what did you just say?" eddie asked.
"i'm done. i can't do this. i can't do us anymore," richie said, eerily quiet. eddie stood, completely silent.
"don't come find me. don't talk to me. don't come to my house anymore, because i don't care where you fucking go. i'm leaving your stuff in the yard. so, this is goodbye. it was not nice knowing you. adios!" richie finished, in tears. then, he sprinted off, leaving eddie on the sidewalk.
i had so many questions. why were they even fighting in front of my house anyway? eddie kneeled down. his shoulders shook with each sob. i decided to comfort him. i walked out of my door and kneeled down next to him.
"i took it too far," eddie sobbed.
"eddie, i saw everything," i told him.
"i'm a horrible person," eddie muttered.
"yeah. you kinda are," i agreed. eddie looked up from his hands.
"you're supposed to help me here!" he exclaimed. i shrugged.
"nothing makes richie tozier cry," i said. eddie sighed.
"i know. that's my problem."
"you might as well go get your stuff?" i suggested. eddie nodded.
"good idea." he stood up and walked away. from a distance, he waved. i gave a small wave back.
trouble in paradise i guess.
now, to figure out where my mom was.
before i could even get back into my house, bill's bike sped around the corner of my street.
i just can't catch a break today, can i?
his bike wheels screech against the sidewalk where eddie was just kneeling.
"what's u-u-up stan?" he asks.
"oh, nothing much." i tell him. something is off. i feel it, but i can't put my finger on it. it's a feeling.
"w-what are you doing o-outside?"
"i can't find my mom," i answer. bill's face hardens.

"she's not here."
"what does that even mean, bill?"
"she is not here." he hasn't stuttered once. something is VERY wrong.
"where is she?"
"not. here."
"if she's not here, can you take her to me?" bill looks at me. then, he points to my head.
"bill?"

i can hear it. the meticulous ticking of my mother's favorite clock.
tick.
tick.
tick.
i always hated that clock, but it brought noise to the house, like my mother wanted. the meticulous tick rings in my ears. bill's single finger feels cold against my head. i can feel so many cold spots, everywhere on my body. bill stand, completely silent, completely still. i try to talk, but i can't speak.
i can't breathe.
somehow, it feels like my lungs are filled with water. i'm drowning.
i heard nothing but the tick of the clock.
tick.
tick.
tick.