through the dark; vic criss

One.

One.

Isabelle's leg bounced in time to the ticking of the clock on the wall of her history classroom. Her teacher was droning on about something or other. It would have been much more interesting if it weren't the last day of school. Henry Bowers, sat two seats behind her, was murmuring to Patrick Hockstetter. She could hear him. He was probably going to trip the boy sitting in front of him on the way out of class. He was always like that. Isabelle wouldn't really know, though, considering she'd only just moved to Derry. Admittedly, before she knew Henry's name, she'd just called him and his two friends Mullet and his Morons. Not to their faces, obviously.

The bell suddenly sounded, interrupting Isabelle's thoughts. The class stood almost in unison, the sound of chair-legs scraping against the floor and backpacks jangling. Isabelle jumped as she felt something brush against her leg. It was the boy who sat behind her and in front of Henry. She'd been right. Patrick and Henry laughed as they walked past the boy on the floor. Isabelle rolled her brown eyes at them and knelt next to the boy, gently gripping his hand and helping him to stand. He was a little shorter than Isabelle, with red hair that hung in his face and made him look boyish and cute.

"Thanks," he said, a little bit breathless, "I'm Corey,"

"No problem, Corey, they're jerks. I'm Isabelle,"

"Have a great summer, Isabelle,"

"You too," Isabelle grinned at him before turning away and exiting the classroom with her peers. She would have spoken to him some more if she hadn't been in a rush to meet with her older sister. Speaking of which, Haley was leaning against Isabelle's locker. When she caught sight of Isabelle, she straightened up and held out her hand. Isabelle took it and they walked down the hall together, pace increasing as they passed the Bowers gang. Isabelle was grateful that they didn't seem to notice her and Haley. She couldn't be bothered to deal with dumbasses, and Haley was known not to take any shit from anyone.

Across the street from the high school was their eldest sister, Charlotte, waiting in her car. Her light brown hair, much like Haley's, was braided messily. She'd probably done in the morning before her jog. She had one arm hanging out the window and the other flicking through the pages of a magazine.

Haley was the first to open the door, grabbing Charlotte's attention. Charlotte put her magazine on the dashboard as Haley climbed in the passenger seat. Before Isabelle could get in, something caught her eye. A group of younger kids, probably around thirteen or fourteen, were being bugged by the Bowers gang. Two of them were on the ground, Henry bringing his face close to one of the ones left standing. Isabelle tore her eyes away, climbing in the backseat before Charlotte could scold her.

As they drove towards home, Haley spoke.

"His name's Bill Denbrough,"

"What?"

"The kid Henry was bothering. He's Bill Denbrough. Henry hasn't been so bad to him this year because his little brother went missing. Did you see the lady standing with the police? Her daughter's missing too. I forget her name,"

That was Haley, always knowing almost too much about everything.

"How do you know all this?" Charlotte asked absently. At this point she didn't really have to think about the question; she was so used to asking it.

"I have friends," she turned her head to look at Isabelle. "Issy, do you?"

Reluctantly, Isabelle shook her head. "I don't fit in – you know that,"

Haley sighed and turnedback to the front. "A shame. I hear they throw some great parties,"

625 words.

tHE CHAPTERS GET A LITTLE LONGER I SWEAR