~REDDIE ONESHOTS~

I Mean It

trigger warning: abuse

"Where have you been? I know you're seeing other people, you bastard! Don't even try to deny it!" "So are you, you excuse for a wife!" "You're the whole reason this family has fallen apart!"

Richie sat staring out of his room's window as he listened to his parents argue and took a swig of Jack Daniel's whiskey from a glass he'd snatched from their house's extensive collection in their not-so-hidden cabinet. Not like they would notice anyways. 

He gulped down the strong liquid, hoping it would wash away all of his worries and discomfort. All it did, though, was cause Richie to slip further into his sadness as memories resurfaced. Memories of when his family was well off and loving up until it became dysfunctional and abusive.

He flinched at every object he heard being thrown downstairs. He was surprised there were still any breakable items left in the house.  He sighed, running his hands through his hair as he bounced his leg rapidly. He couldn't stand this anymore. He abruptly pushed himself off his bed, unable to withhold anymore anger.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Richie demanded as he ran down the stairs. He looked around his living room, seeing shards of glass on the floor, lamps overturned, bottles littering the tables, and lastly his distraught dark-haired mother and father. His parents stopped for a moment, reminded that their son was home. Richie could have sworn he saw them soften for a moment, slightly lowering their glass bottles.

However, that moment was short lived. Scowls returned to his parents' faces. "You, Richard... you're the reason this family is broken!" His mother screeched, pointing a finger at him madly.

"Me? Oh, you should see your fucking selves. Ever since you cheated, it's done nothing but ruin everything we had!" Richie screamed, his eyes watering. After his mother had slept with one of their neighbors, eight-year-old Richie found out and told his father, who was enraged. His parents did not divorce for money's sake but coped with alcohol and infidelity, leaving Richie to deal with it on his own.

"God, how did we raise such a disrespectful disgrace of a son?!" His father yelled. 

"Bullshit! I've been taking care of myself since I was eight! EIGHT FUCKING YEARS OLD. My childhood was shit! I still hate coming home. It's you two that can't handle yourselves like adults and even fucking parents!" Richie vented.

His parents glared at him, fuming. "Agghhhh!" Mrs. Tozier screamed, raising her beer bottle and throwing it in her son's direction. Richie ducked, the bottle missing him by a hair as it smashed into the wall behind him, leaving behind dripping beer and glass shards. Richie faced his parents in disbelief, who were breathing heavily. Richie let a tear fall but wiped his face quickly.

"Clean it up," his father said. Richie stood his ground. "I said, CLEAN IT UP!" Mr. Tozier ordered.

"No." Richie gulped. Mr. Tozier stepped forward and pinned Richie against the wall. 

"What did you just say?" Mr. Tozier slapped his cheek harshly. Richie winced and blinked back tears, trying not to show fear. "You'll learn respect," he spat. 

He raised his grip from Richie's shirt closer to his neck. "Tell me you're sorry," his father ordered as he squeezed. Richie gasped, running out of air as his father gripped his throat.

He suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline course through his body, using all his might to rip his father's hand off of him. "Fuck off!" he screamed before gasping for air, pushing his father away.

 "I can't wait for the day I can move out of this hellhole!" Richie shouted, grabbing his whiskey and he rushed out and slamming the door.

Richie began sobbing the second he left his house, pedaling recklessly all the way to the Barrens and not looking back. He couldn't let anyone to see him like this. He threw down his bike and sat on the rough ground, crying into his knees hugged against his chest and downing more of the drink. He didn't want to ever face his parents again, though he knew that wasn't realistic.