Can you maybe do one where Richie is being abused by his parents and I dunno eddie finds out and tries to help him? Or is that too fucked up? obviously you don't have to do it f you don't want
Fresh bruises on pale skin.
Water leaking from his eyes.
“Don’t cry like a little bitch.”
The ghosts of hands still placed on his skin.
The next morning when he left for school, he pulled out a sweat shirt. Hoop up. No one needs to know. No one needs to see. He ran into a pole. That’s it. That why he still had glass in the cuts on his forehead. It was a pole.
Eddie didn’t notice the boy. He wondered where he was. Hoping he’d find him at lunch. He sat in the usual spot. A table near the back of the room.
Richie sat down and kept his head low. He ate quickly. Tried to ignore the feeling of chocolate brown eyes filled with worry boring holes in his head.
“Rich?” Eddie asked. None of the others were there yet.
“Yeah?” Richie responded not looking up.
“Are you okay?”
Eddie reached over and pushed his hood down. Richie froze. Curls fell out of their place and poked out in places like always. He looked up slowly. Traces of pain and marks of violence painted his skin. Except he didn’t smell like oils or pastels. He smelled like whiskey and reruns of bad eighties soap operas.
“Richie!” Eddie said with worry. “What the fuck?”
“I ran into a pole.”
“Yeah because poles are shaped like hands.” Eddie reached over and lightly dragged a thumb against his cheek. Still soft. “Who did this? Henry?”
Richie shook his head.
Richie shook his head again.
He nodded and looked down at the food. It was the only meal he was ever served. No one ever taught him to cook and he could never use the kitchen without his mother telling him to fuck off.
He picked up a fry and stuffed it solemnly into his face.
Eddie didn’t know what to do. So he asked what he could do.
“Nothing” Richie replied. “There’s not really anything to do except wait until I get into college and leave this fucking town.”