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[ Trigger Warning: child abuse ]

Christmas day.

Richie woke up to the smell of delicious, mouth-watering turkey and mashed potatoes. He immediately sprung out of his bed, throwing on a random shirt over his lean frame.

That smells fucking delicious.

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, Richie walked down the hallway and into the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, mom." Richie said, and Maggie turned around from where she cut some veggies. To her right was a small wine glass, and her face looked tired but at least she wasn't as intoxicated as she usually was. After all, Christmas was important to her and she was happy to be celebrating with her family (which was her sister and her kids, and Richie's grandpa and grandma).

Maggie's usual mellow lips turned into a half smile. "Morning, Richard. Merry Christmas to you, too."

"Where's the asshole?"

"Don't call your father that."

"Sorry," Richie apologized. "Where's dad?"

Maggie sighed, putting her knife down. Richie noticed something as soon as he saw her hand. Her wedding ring was gone. "He won't be joining us for dinner."

"...Why?" Richie wanted to know what had happened. Because if his asshole of a dad left, that would be the best damn Christmas gift ever.

Maggie shook her head. "Just because. Go wash up, we're having guests."

Richie blinked. "We are?"

"Yes, Richie. Now go."

"Who?"

"Your relatives, Richie." Maggie spat, getting easily irritated. Sometimes Richie's questions were too much to handle, especially since Wentworth had left at two in the morning telling Maggie her and Richie are fucking horrible to be living with. Now Maggie was on her own. She didn't know if that was good or not.

But of course, Richie was going to be eighteen soon. Off to college and starting a family, probably with his new girlfriend Beverly she's heard of.

Richie nodded. "Okay. Merry Christmas, mom." He said again before heading back down the hallway and into his room. He scratched his neck, peering out of his fogged up window. Outside, the snow was nearly ten inches deep, and snowflakes spread in the streets, glistening like pearls. Winter was beautiful, apart from the fucking cold weather that it brought with it.

Richie then looked at the floor of his room, deciding he should at least clean it up a bit in case any of his little cousins decide to come in and accidentally find condoms or something.

Eddie woke up, startled by the sound of something hard against the wall, and Frank's shouts.

The small boy wrestled with his blanket just to fall off his bed and onto the floor, his heart racing and feeling like it'll break out of his chest.

"Shit," Eddie muttered, sitting up and rubbing his head. He felt drowsy and weak, taking steps of lassitude out of his bedroom to peer into the parlor, where Frank's shouts came from. Immediately, he winced from another loud insult towards his mother. It was obvious he'd already had a few beers.

"Lord, are you really fucking stupid, Sonia?! You couldn't pick up one pecan pie?!"

"They were all out, Frank!"

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