a corruption of the mind [r.t.]

9

— May 2nd, 1993 (3:00 pm)

     You woke up, pained and very sleepy. You were in your bed upstairs, in a shirt that was definitely not yours, but looked oddly familiar... Who did you know that wore polos? And just as you awoke, the memories came back. The candies, the flowers, the hugs, the kisses. The touching. The inserting. Your bubbly feeling in your stomach had almost burst, yet it felt wrong. Like it wasn't supposed to happen. That was what snapped you from the fake euphoria, but by then it was too late. It had gone, and left with a boy that you didn't like.

     The smell of pancakes and chocolate came to your nose, and how you wished that it wasn't Mr. Polo. There was so much explaining to do, and it was honestly too much. Once you got down the stairs, your regretful thoughts became reality. He stood in front of the stove, a plate of pancakes on the dining table, and a soft tune coming from his lips. He had a few scratch marks on his back, belonging to you. The bubble came back, but this time it was bigger than ever, and not in a good way. You felt about ready to jump off your balcony, but the moment was gone. Now you were left with the reality in front of you, and there was no other choice but to face it.

     "E-Eddie...?" He turned around, a smile as big as Bugs Bunny in duck season, but it only made that bubble grow. What were you gonna do??? What could you do... It was already done, and saying something would only make it worse. Besides, it was not good for your mental health, the best thing right now would have been a blunt, but without Richie-

Richie.

Richie...!

     You let this guy touch you, wanting to feel what Richie made you feel, only to realize that no one but him would make you feel like that. What were you going to say to him?? This was gonna break his heart, but if your momma taught you anything, it was that honesty is the best policy. As long as you told Richie the truth, he would understand and, hopefully, forgive you. It would be difficult, but if it would be better than hiding it, then you were going to do this. Besides, he was the only thing going for you, so it was a good shot at seeing if this imaginary God allowed you happiness. For once. Please. Please. Please.

     "Listen Ed, what we did last night was not right," and, just how his skill came, it dropped, "I just don't feel the same way as you do. My heart is with someone else, and although I appreciate everything you did, it actually dug my grave. The fact that I did this is the equivalent of me harming myself. He doesn't deserve someone as disgusting as me, and I will tell him what I did. I love him, and I just stepped all over him. Nothing can change what I did, but I can change what happens next. So please, just leave before anything else happens."

     "But [Name]-"

     "PLEASE, JUST LEAVE!" He picked up his stuff, heading straight to the door, head hanging low. Now you just needed to finish what you started. Time to find Richie.

— (5:30 pm)

     His house smelled of alcohol and weed, making your nose scrunch in disgust. It wasn't his fault that it smelled this way, it was his drunk Mom who acted like such a hobo. Her life was alcohol, and she depended on it in order to try and make a border around her and her husband. The whole town knew that she would have loved to have him dead, but so did he. That's why he was always at work, and why she spent her time in her basement with a bottle of brandy and her tears.

     You made your way up the stairs, cautious of what you might step on. Who knew anymore, last time you saw a needle on the ground. Around the many bottles, you finally made it to the "KEEP OUT" sign he put up back in seventh grade, making you smile. He was always like this, tough on the outside, but a cutie on the inside. His whole home reminded you of the nights you would crawl in through his window, and tell him how lonely you felt in your home. Then he would cuddle you, tell you it's okay and that he was here for you. His warm hands touching your cold ones, making you smile and scoot closer. That's how you wanted him. Close.

     You were about to open the door when the voice of a girl squealed on the other side, causing an instant shatter in your heart. Whoever it was on the other side seemed happy, her voice teasing Richie, but making your insides churn. Her voice told him to stop, but keep going, and it only made you want to hear more. See how far he would go with this. Just open the door a little more so you could see. It was a feeling like no other, like your subconscious was asking for one more reason. One more, and you would be set. Please. As the door inched a bit more open, you allowed yourself a breath before peeking one eye in to see what you wished you didn't. His hands were running up and down a girl's back, Beverly Marsh, and lulling her to sleep. She sat on his lap, smiling at his sweet actions, and running her dirty hands underneath his shirt. He didn't seem to care less, seemingly drunk and emotionless. It made you reassured for a few seconds until you saw him taking off his shirt at last.

     If it weren't for your body moving on its own, then you probably would have seen more than you bargained for. It was decided, your fate, like a road. Once the cement was laid, it was there to stay. Now all you had to do was take it, follow the road, and keep going until it ended. The Gods had made their final verdict, and it was to rip all happiness from such a dirty, walking sin like you. How could you think you deserved happiness??? It was like thinking that a pig could fly. What a stupid idea, but it was over now. You knew what you had to do. It was simple, really. Now it was only a matter of when.