Richie woke up and it was just like any other day . There was another mess in the living room, broken bottles all around his feet . His parents must've been fighting again , but this time it didn't wake him in his sleep . That's how his life was . He didn't know what was worse , hearing his parents scream at each other or having them scream at him . Whenever they were angry , he wanted nothing more than to hide and cower in the corner , but couldn't .

Richie preferred it when they neglected and ignored him . He was loud because of this, desperate for attention and love , in the background screaming " EVERYBODY , LOOK AT ME ! " But no one did . They never did .

Richie never told his best friends about the abuse and neglect at home . How could he ? He was the jokester of the group . He couldn't admit how depressed he was , how he was fading away . He used to be on fire , but now he was fading away just like that . And they couldn't see it because he was such a good liar .

So Richie began to distance himself from the group . His depression and anxiety made conversation harder , so he went quiet . He didn't think they'd mind anyway . He didn't think they asked about him anymore , didn't truly care about anything he thought about .

' It was better this way ' Richie thought to himself as he sat at the edge of the cliff of the quarry . He flew too closely to the sun , and now he was melting from his wings . Maybe his friends didn't really care about him . Maybe they'd be happier without him in their lives . He started crying , unaware that you were behind him and watched him unravel before your eyes .