𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲

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-𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙚𝙞𝙗𝙤𝙡𝙩

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-𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙚𝙞𝙗𝙤𝙡𝙩

𝗶𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗮 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸, one lonely week since the losers broke up and Ashley had never felt more alone.

Ashley spent most of her days in her room, painting. Although it was hard to create art when all your inspiration is gone, and her inspiration was her friends.

She thought about calling them, meeting up with Bev or Bill again, but decided against it. Maybe they didn't want to see her like she did them.

It was a hot day, Ashley had rode her bike down to the pharmacy to pick up some of her mothers medication for her, when the bell rang as the door was opened, fast steps approaching her.

Being spun around by the shoulders wasn't what Ash expected to be greeted with when she saw Bill, surprisingly Richie was with him.

"Ashley-" Bill breathed a sigh of relief, his face softening at the sight of her.

"What? Richie, why are-" Ashley opened her mouth to ask a plethora of questions.

"It has B-Bev." Bill stuttered out sombrely, interrupting the short girl with a worried frown.

"What?" Ash whispered as her heart dropped to her stomach, her knees feeling weak.

"It got Beverly."

The now reunited losers all rode their bikes down Neibolt street, sharing nervous glances. Whilst Ashely was happy to be back around her favourite people again, her stomach was sore with worry for Beverly. Who knows if she's even alive in there.

Ashley jumped off her bike, dumping it on the side of the road with the other losers'— besides Stan, who kicked his bike stand up.

"Guys, spikes." Bill took off his backpack, crouching down to take a few discarded fence spikes.

Ashley nervously took a spike from the dry grass, her sweaty hands making some residue stick to her palms.

She looked down at the spike, staring at its pointed end. She didn't think she could use it if the circumstances needed her to, but that thought was quickly overpowered by her frustration and anger. Fuck yes she'd stab this clown.

The shattering of glass made the losers turn to the house with concern and confusion, staring at Richie with a broken beer bottle in his hand, only the neck remained. Richie tossed the failed weapon away into the overgrown grass with an embarrassed sigh.

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 03 ⏰

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