Streddie: All I Need Is To Fix This Thing

Chapter 2

 CHAPTER 2

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They didn't know what had been going on. That was what Richie told himself when he thought about his friends. They didn't understand. And Richie guessed they didn't want to since they had never stopped by to see him. Richie's family had been abusing him, and Bowers roughed him up every time his parents sent him out to buy booze. His dad said it built his character, and he needed that. After a particularly rough day with his family, and seeing Eddie at the corner store when his mother and father sent him out, Richie really just wanted to have a peaceful night's sleep. He had been having nightmares a couple of times a week, and when he didn't have any it was because he stayed up all night, his record being 48 hours before he passed out after a particularly rough beating from his father. When Richie woke up the next morning he was surprised. There had been no nightmares, no nighttime crisis. His dad hadn't even barged into his room to beat him for sleeping. He stretched his arms up and attempted to open his mouth wide to yawn like he always used to after he woke up. That moment that he attempted to open his mouth was the moment he realized that last night hadn't been as peaceful as he had thought. His hand flew up to his mouth, his eyes going wide when he realized that there was something unnatural about the way it rested shut. There were stitches. That was why he couldn't open his mouth even the slightest bit. He shivered as he whipped his head around frantically and saw a note next to him written in what he hoped was just red ink. "Richie, Richie, I would apologize except I'm just doing everybody a favor. That thread is impossible to remove... unless somebody were to cut it off for you. I wish you the best of luck. You're going to need it." Richie knew that there was only one thing that could have done this so easily while he slept. The idea of that thing brought chills to his spine, which made him never want to sleep again.

Richie bolted down the stairs, accidentally running into his dad, frantically trying to apologize even though his mouth wouldn't open. His blood ran cold when his dad spoke. "Finally, somebody decided to shut you up. I hope it was that Bowers kid." Then his father walked off, and Richie stood dumbfounded until he ran to his room. He stayed there for the next week. Right until he got a call from Bev.

Bev had called Richie early that morning, hoping he was awake to tell him that she wanted him to come to the Loser's meeting at Ben's house that day. The truth was Bev hadn't needed to hope Richie was awake. Richie hadn't been able to properly sleep since his mouth had been sewn. If he was being honest he hadn't slept well for a long time before that either. When Richie first got that call he hadn't wanted to go because, well, the Losers club hated him, and there was no way he could face Stan after just leaving like that. Nevertheless, Richie found himself pulling himself up and off his bed, and into his bathroom, stripping, and jumping into the freezing shower as he waited for it to reach steaming temperatures. He thought hard while he was waiting for the water to heat up in that shower, and he felt like he owed it to his friends to show up, even if it was only so that they could stop worrying he had died in a ditch somewhere weeks ago.

After Richie got out of the shower he stared at himself in the mirror. He knew he was a mess, and he felt horrible about everything that had happened because of him. Even though Richie hadn't asked for his parents to abuse him he felt that it was his fault. He knew he talked too much and he was too annoying. He knew that he was too much for his parents to handle with everything they were doing in their busy lives. He was just an obstacle for them, something that was in the way. He tried to shake the voice in his head away. The one that was constantly telling him that he was worthless. The one that told him he needed to shut the hell up for once in his life. He tried to ignore it and he threw some clothes on hoping the others wouldn't notice how they hung off of Richie's frame, how they were baggy where they didn't use to be. Richie hadn't eaten well in a long time, as his parents said, he was already too greedy, and he didn't need to hog all of what little food they had left.

Richie shook his head to clear the thoughts and ran down the stairs. He ignored his parents voices yelling after him, asking him where the hell he was going, and who did he think he was. He tried to run fast enough to block the voices out of his head. He ran hard enough that he didn't remember when he had gotten to Ben's house, but he could remember that he hadn't run that hard in a long time. He staggered outside for a couple of seconds, arms hugging his ribs as he tried to breathe in as much air as he could through the little airway his nose allowed. The heavy breathing just served as a reminder that he couldn't breathe through his mouth since Pennywise decided to do them all a favor, and allow everybody some peace and quiet. Richie banished that thought from his head.

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Finished updating chapter two, have fun reading. :-)