one.

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I sat in the dirty second story windowsill of my rickety old house. I took a drag from the lit cigarette tangled loosely in between my fingers.

A strong yet tasteful scent of nicotine and fire buzzed throughout the room.

The pale streetlights streamed down on the dark, rainy, night street, creating a scene on the pavement under me.

I sat in pure silence. It wasn't a bad feeling. It was a feeling of bliss. It was a feeling of being content with myself.

A loud ringing sound of the phone pierced through the peaceful silence of the air, interrupting my bliss and contentness.

I took a final drag of the cigarette before pushing the dark ash down in the white window frame and throwing the remainder of it out the window.

I trudged from my spot on the windowsill and found myself stumbling to the yellow phone placed on my beside table, along with other useless clutter.

"Hello?" My tired voice croaked to the person on the line.

"R-Richie?" A tiny voice squeaked.

The corners of my mouth turned up into a small and soft smile. Of course Eddie Kaspbrak was calling me at close to three in the morning on a school night.

"Eds? It's close to three in the morning. What the hell are you doing up?" I teased.

"Well I can't sleep. L-Like at all. I've tried and I can't, so I called you" Eddie explained. He had a little tone of exhaustion laced in his tone but none of us cared to address it.

I smirked a bit. "Well I'm honoured that you called me"

"Actually I called Bill first but Mr. Denbrough just yelled at me for calling at three in the morning"

My smile faltered. "Oh" I said, letting out a half-hearted chuckle.

"Richie, I'm just kidding silly. Of course you were my first choice. You're my best friend" He giggled. I loved it when he giggled. He sounds like a six year old girl, but in a beautiful way.

I felt my face light up with excitement. "You're my best friend too Eds"

Suddenly my throat felt raw. It felt like a cat was slowly clawing at me.

I felt the metallic taste of blood touch the back of my tongue.

My breath was starting to get hard to catch. I was panting and breathing like a dog.

What was happening?

"U-Uh I'll be right back Eddie" I rushed out, placing the receiver to the table.

I could hear his muffled protests exclaimed from the phone, yet I still ran out of my room and down the hall to my bathroom.

My eyes led up to my reflection in the mirror. My face was slowly getting red.

I pulled took my thick lensed glasses off my face and put them on the toilet seat and started to itch at my neck.

My neck turned a crimson red colour from all the desperate scratching.

"H-Help" I wheezed to no one in particular before coughing as hard as I could into the sink.

I squeezed my eyes shut and kept coughing. My throat stung, like someone was stabbing me repeatedly and I couldn't stop it.

I wheezed and gasped until it all stopped. I slowly let my eyes open.

When I looked in the sink there was a horrible sight of a concoction of blood and white and light pink flower petals.

Oh shit. Oh god. Oh no. I was not coughing up flower petals right now. This is just a dream. This is just a dream right?

I did not have what I thought I had.

I did not have that bullshit one sided love disease because I don't love anyone.

I took a shaky breath and turned on the tap, letting the water stream out, washing the petals down the sink.

Quickly splashing some water on my face and turning off the tap, I turned on my heel and sped back to my room.

I picked the receiver back up. "S-Sorry. I had to deal with something"

"You okay Rich?"

I nodded and took a deep breath. "Yes yes. I'm uh- fine"

"You don't sound too good. You sure you're okay? I can come over and take care of you if you ne-"

"Eds. I'm fine. I promise. I just didn't feel too good. Don't worry about me" I spat out.

"Okay. Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you" He whispered faintly.

"You didn't Eddie. I'm okay. I'm not mad" I said sympathetically.

I felt like hell. First I'm coughing up flower petals and then I'm making my best friend upset and scared.

"Okay"

"C-Could we talk about something else?" I suggested.

"Mhm. Of course we can. How about we talk about your birthday? It's soon you know?" I could practically hear his smile through the phone.

I hated my birthday. I just hated birthdays in general. Pitiful parties with some horrible made cake and pathetic presents because you don't have a particular interest.

I sighed. "Of course it is. I forget how old I'm even turning"

"Fifteen Rich. You're turning fifteen" He told with a small chuckle.

"Fifteen. Is that right?" I hummed.

"Fifteen. Yes sir" He agreed.

I laughed a bit and laid in my bed, preparing myself for another night of no sleep because I'm up dreaming about something that wont happen any time soon or maybe even ever.

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐒 (REDDIE.)Where stories live. Discover now