eddie
everything had been calm for the past few weeks.
well, the term 'calm' being used lightly.
nothing mortifying or terrible had happened since i'd fainted at the quarry, and everything had gone back to normal. with my friends at least.
i still felt, wrong. i still felt empty and sick and there was always that nagging feeling at the back of my head screaming you don't belong here.
i tried so hard to make it go away, to feel normal again, but the only thing that distracted me from my thoughts was cutting myself, and that wasn't the most normal of feelings either. i felt like a freak, like i was pretending to be someone i'm not infront of my friends but showing them how i really feel would make them leave. i was stuck, and i wasn't sure how to feel about that. i wasn't sure how to feel about anything anymore. richie included.
"you okay spaghetti man?"
i whipped my head to my left, seeing that richie had put down the comic he had been reading and was now looking at me with a soft and careful expression.
"yeah?"
it sounded like more of a question than anything else, and he noticed too.
"you seem, i don't know...sad?"
i scoffed, pushing my fringe back. i began blushing, i hated being confronted about things like this, it made me feel exposed and powerless.
"yeah? since when did you care anyway?"
i tried not to wince at my own icy words, not meaning for them to sound so venomous. i saw richie's eyebrows crease in confusion and hurt, taken aback.
you hurt him, you monster
"what's that supposed to mean?"
he asked almost defensively. i gulped. i hadn't meant to make him angry, and i knew it was a mistake as soon as i'd said it. i was such an idiot.
"n-nothing..."
i muttered, picking at my nails. i felt him lean closer, trying to look me in the eye. his tone became gentle, his features softening considerably.
"do you really not think i care about you?"
i shook my head instantly, the permanent nauseating feeling in my stomach growing stronger every second.
"n-no, i didn't mean it like that, i, i-"
"because if that's what you think, then you're wrong. really wrong."
i chewed my lip to stop myself from crying, hating that i was allowing my irritability and personal problems to interfere with my friendships. richie didn't deserve this.
"i just want to help you, ed's."
there was that word again
help.
why did everyone always insist on helping me? why did i come across as helpless and weak to anyone who met me? i didn't need help, i didn't. i could fight my own battles, i didn't need to rely on other people to get by. i was fine.
i hadn't even realised that i was harshly pinching the skin on the back of my left hand as my thoughts grew more indignant and overwhelming, my nails digging in and drawing blood.
"hey, stop it."
richie frowned and grabbed my hand, inspecting the marks i'd made. i felt my heart rate speed up as he sighed deeply, looking at my face.
