CHAPTER 1
oooi.
SCHOOLS OUT!
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THE LAST BELL rang through the ears of students.They all scattered out their seats, practically yelling through the halls, filled with jittery kids. They all screamed for the thought of summer, for the time they would spend with their friends. But, it was peculiar. For me, that is. I didn't have the urge to get up at my seat. The pastel yellow chair I sat at. I watched as the last kid stumbled through the doorway, leaving all the work they ever learned so quickly.
My fingers fumbled with the tape in my hands, sliding the object in my walkman. Pushing the small strand of hair behind my ear, I headed out the room I got used to. Till next year, at least. Walking through the sea of kids, their voices boomed through the walls, bouncing off the lockers roughly.
I placed the headphones around my neck, heading to the door that led the way out. My eyes caught those of Henry Bower's, chills running down my spine as I met the gaze of the older boy. I couldn't even stand the small smirk on his lips as I quickly looked to the floor. Adding a pace to my step, I could feel the hard glare towards my back as I walked past the boy and his friends.
Aggressively pushing the door, I was met with the bright sun staring down at me. Walking down the steps, I headed to the right. It wasn't until my bag was viscously grabbed from behind, my feet stumbling backwards as I fell straight on my back. I could hear the snickers of the obvious bully who seemed to take amusement of 'pushing' me around.
My face hardened as I saw the face of Henry, my fist curled with the adrenaline of anger that ran through me. Oh, please. It's not like you'll do anything anyway.
"Well if it isn't the same little bastard." Henry's word struck hard as his friends laughed, a frown upon my face as I felt the stinging in my palms. "Just can't get away, can you?"
"If you'd stop following me we wouldn't have this problem," I spat back, my voice barely over a whisper. I didn't even pay attention to the kids around us, questioning why nobody stopped to help. They were just bystanders. They weren't intended to help, but to just watch.
"Finally standing up for yourself, huh, little squirt?" Henry seemed to eye me down like a hawk with its helpless prey. All I was able to do was just watch as he broke me down in defeat. You can't get out of this one, Monet. Not this time. Henry came closer with a swift movement, the smell of sweat and dirt fixating in my nose.
If it wasn't for the manners I grew up with, I would've gagged in his face. But even with a boy like him, I never was able to. "Summers gonna be real fun. Yeah, I know it. You won't even hesitate to even think about coming out of your house."
My mouth formed to speak, to spit the words out so harshly. I wanted to say the words that jabbed in my mind. But nothing came out. I held my tongue, looking to the ground as I pursed my lips.
"Nothing to say now, huh? Say something. I dare you. Anything that comes out of your mouth, I won't hesitate to hurt you."
"Hey, asshole!"
A voice was heard from behind Henry, catching the attention of the small circle to look up at a group of boys. I slowly sat up, Henry's full attention now on the one who spoke. "This isn't any of your concern. Turn around before I beat your ass up."
"Oh, please. Save the bullshit for your mom." The one who spoke had dark rimmed glasses, his lens making his eyes look like bugs. I could feel the giggle behind my throat, but right now wasn't the best time.
"Go fu-" Henry's voice was cut short, a man with a cops suit slowly take two steps to us. His hardening glare towards Henry made the boy stop in his tracks. Hesitant, he took a step back. He mumbled something to the boys, giving me his infamous glare as his friends and him walked away.
My throat was scratchy, my eyes brimming with the familiar wet tears. But I quickly blinked them away, wiping the one strand that seemed to fall down with no intention. One of the boys grabbed my headphones from the floor, handing it to me as I shyly took it. I dust the small powder of dirt from my skirt, pushing a hair behind my ear.
Awkwardly crossing my arms, I let out a small sigh. "T-thanks, you know. For-"
"No problem, doll. Anything for you," the boy with rimmed glasses states, swiftly nodding his head up. My brows scrunched up in confusion, ready to already leave the uncomfortable situation.
"You're M-M-Monet right?"
I knew who this boy was. I always did. Ever since the second grade. Ever since the one day I've gotten to talk to him, everything seemed to freeze within the time I had with him. Even if it was a mere question on the math homework. The very easy, now doable question. I quickly snapped my head, nodding.
"I really should get going. Thank you, again." I didn't even take one more glance to the ones who helped me, but just abruptly turned around. With my feet walking into a faster pace, I didn't even take the look back as it dug into the back of mind, bugging me to look around. Way to be awkward, Monet. As I pressed the 'play' button on my Walkman, the voice of the Jackson 5 releasing the tension I held.
As I thought of the ways I would spend my summer, nothing seemed to crowd my mind. To say the least, nothing came to mind. Another summer with just Frankenstein and my camera. Not to add, but my father too. Nothing bothered me that I spent every moment with the only friend I had. And I wasn't even talking about that best friend almost anyone would have at school, or the park. My dad was my best friend, and that was all I needed. As long as I never left his side, I was pleased with the lifestyle I had.
The feeling of wanting get home was neutral. I always looked forward to walk into the comfort of my own house, to feel welcomed by the objects or the bed that awaited me all day. With the thought of knowing that I won't be waking up any time early, a skip was added to my step, practically jogging towards the few things that I enjoyed, and knew appreciated me.
...
HAPPINESS. THE SMALL spark that plugged within the brain that could make you feel this way. It was something that was like dopamine to my brain. The one thing that I craved actually wasn't something to gain, though many may think different. But to me, one thing could light the spark so easily. It wasn't anything big, yet small. It wasn't the food I was given, or the things that were bought, but it was true. The true feeling that was felt when with the one loved you.
The one who brought a smile to your face, or the one that made the small giggles erupt from your throat. That was something that was held dearest to spot in my heart, that I have made room for. The TV's volume was no match to the laughs and words spoken at the small wooden table. Frankenstein's fluffy tail moved back and forth, watching with doe eyes with amusement towards what was going on with the moment I had with my father.
"He was simply just.. playing around. He can't help it. The famous Len Tucker isn't something he can't get away from." I picked up the plate of meatloaf, heading to the kitchen as I dumped the small stray of food left into Frankenstein's bowl.
"That's no excuse. I will admit, something about me is... likable. But you don't see the ladies around the street on their knees making up scenarios as to why they want to see me."
Scoffing at the remark of my father, I put the dish into the sink. "Yeah, okay dad. Please enlightenment me on this when I actually see this with my own eyes." rolling up the black long sleeves I had on, I started to water the small sponge. My father was soon to my side, putting his hands in as he took the tableware away from me.
"Dad-"
"It's my turn tonight, anyway. Go keep your furry rat out of my room though." He held a slight hint of playfulness to his voice, giving me a sly smirk as I nudged his arm.
"He doesn't like being called that." I dried my hands on my skirt, rubbing my small animal from the ground as he finished the leftovers in his bowl. "Don't forget! You need to dry the dishes with the blue rag. It's to the right of the soap." I practically skipped to my room, earning a few 'words' from the small cat that was held in my arms. Closing the door behind me, I was met with pink overload. My walls screamed with the random pictures I've taken over the months.
"Sorry for the bumpy ride, Frankie." I set the poor cat onto my bed, sitting down as my hand ran through the mess of fur it had. Earning a few 'purrs', I quickly grabbed the Polaroid on my desk, catching the precious moment. With just one click, the picture was taken. I grabbed the photo that slid out, slightly shaking the picture as I waited for the ink to dry. Quickly fading, the picture slowly came to life. With dark shadows behind, Frankie stood out within the flash.
Smiling, I set it down on my desk. The furniture was littered with tapes of music, as well as books filled with poetry. Next to it, was my fathers record player. Knowing with the obsession I held with my Walkman, he decided to lay it on my desk as a surprise. Smiling at the past memory, I proceeded to take another picture. With one came two, which then led to more than three. With now photos scattered around my desk with the content of my room, I sat at my chair.
I decided to actually look at the photos, taking in the scene as I was only there mere seconds ago. My eyes trained to the first, from Frankie, and then to the record player. Leading to the pictures of books and frilly curtains, I laughed at the taste I had. With my eyes scanning the white borders and pictures, one had seemed to distance themselves from the pile. Looking closer, the picture was no where visible at all. Just a blank space.
Scrunching my brows, I gave the picture a bit more time to dry up. I think back to the other photos I've taken, wondering what this one would be. As I gave it time, minutes seemed to passed by as I realized it wasn't changing at all. I must've took a picture while not even noticing. That had to be it. There would be no reason for me to waste such a pricy paper for a photo like this. Deciding there was no use, I leaned over to my trash can dropping it as it landed face up.
One glance. One glance was all it took. And if I was able to turn back the few seconds, I would scream. Yell at myself for looking. Force myself to look away. But that's not what happened. It was everything of the opposite. With just a quick was all it took for me to double-take. Slowly peering over, the photo was no longer pitch black. Instead, two very small dots were shown. Red dots. Slowly reaching over, I take the photo in hand once again.
But as the picture slowly began to process, those two unreadable dots became two bloodshot eyes. Something was off with just the two. Only a few seconds pass, the eyes making my blood run cold. The photo wasn't right. It was wrong, really wrong. My blood ran cold as more began to appear from the photo. This wasn't it. As I watched it slowly form, more and more forms were visible. From a frilly outfit, its ruffles dirtied and smudged, a face was shown. My hand slightly shook, my eyes widening to the smile that stared back.
It wasn't any happy smile, or welcoming, that is. Instead, it held fright. It was... murderous? Bone chilling as it was, my eyes scanned its every feature. From the white colored face, to the red lines that drawn from its eyebrows to down from its cheeks, which then led to the mouth. A freaky smile was held as it looked down, eyes darting into my own. It was almost.. alive. I could feel the sudden pressure and presence of something around me. My heart suddenly had a faster pace.
With each beat that continuously hit against my rib cage, I could feel the fright within me rise. My eyes never left the picture as the clown smiled, a red ballon slowly popping up to his side. With the short intake of breath, I closed my eyes. Breath, Monet. Breath. Just turn around, and everything will be fine. Opening my eyes, I decided to do the worst. Slowly turning around, I took an abrupt turn. With the sound of ringing, no sight was to be seen. Just the room I was in. Frankie was still propped against my bed, body slowly shifting up and down as he slept the night away.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I took one more glance to the unknown picture. Hesitant, I ripped the picture into two, leading it into several more pieces. Crushing it together, I threw each bit into the trash. A pinch of relief was let off my shoulder, sighing out as I stared into the trash can one last time. Turning around, I could feel the energy rise up as I was abruptly taken back. Backing up into my chair, my heart paced again as a small rag doll was placed in front of my door. Its button eyes burned into me as I felt the uneasy tension rise. What the hell?
"Oh, Monet. Why won't you play with me?"
My body stood stiff, not able to process the words it just spoke. It's voice was soft and delicate, something that wasn't meant to be uneasy. "Oh, please play with me. I haven't had the feeling in so long. Don't you love me, Monet?"
I slowly backed away from the chair, each chilling step I took towards my wall. "I-I-I don't know what you are. I don't know how you got here. But-"
"Why are you walking away? Please don't leave me. Not again." The voice of the doll was saddening, its posture not moving. But the feeling of wanting to get away from here never disappeared.
"I won't let you." The puppet's voice had changed. This time, it wasn't the same delicate tone. It was changed. Something dark. It's voice wasn't soft, but raspy. Now at a lower range, I now knew that it mean nothing around being good. My breath quickened as I was now against my wall, the air thickening as it became harder and harder to breath.
"Come play with me, Monet. Come play."
Its voice was now over from before. It was.. playful. But no in anyway of being welcoming. It was something different from before. A whacky tone added to the unusual words. With now silence in the air, I now knew it was my chance. Opening my mouth, I proceeded to scream. I yell within the layers of my mind as I begged for my father to hear. But it was all taken back. A hand was clasped to my mouth as I was turned around.
I kicked. My screams were muffled, and the energy I held was all taken out onto the one who held me. With a smile on his face, there stood the clown from before. The on win the picture I wish I just never looked at. Everything ran cold as its bone shrilling laugh filled my ears. I could feel the hot tears spring from my eyes as I worried for the life I so shortly lived. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. Who is this physco?
The clown began to mimic the whimpers I made, pouting his lips together as his eyes dropped. I watched in fear as it did the same as I did, before laughing and smiling the cruel smirk it held. "Don't cry, Monet. Everything will be fine. Maybe."
His hand left my mouth as I was brutally pushed to the ground, backing up towards the door. "What do you want from me! Who are you?" My voice croaked as strands of hair stuck to my face, the clown laughing as he smacked his palm on his knee.
"Kinda hurts, but I'll let that slide. I'm Pennywise! The dancing clown. Wanna see a trick?" His movements were swift, making dancing moves as I watched in confusion. I opened my mouth once more, this time a loud yell escaping my lips as I cried out for my father.
"Oh, daddy. Daddy, daddy please, help me!" Pennywise mimicked the yell I did, running up to my face as his was very close to mine. He smiled down to me, a small laugh escaping his red lips as his body moved up and down. With no words spoken, his laugh became louder and louder. As mouth became wider and wider, I could see the forming of new teeth. Sharper and longer they had gotten, a cry escaping my lips as I shut my eyes for the worst. This was it. This was how I was going to die.
"Monet? What's going on in there? Is the furry rat chewing up your pictures?"
My eyes snapped open, a knock on my door as the room was empty. My heart was the only thing heard within my ears as my eyes stopped the droplets. No clown was to be seen. No sign of the rag doll either. Nothing was left. I snapped my eyes to Frankie, the helpless cat still sleeping through it all. Was it just a daydream? No, no. It felt more than that.
"Open the door, Monet."
My fathers voice brought me back, quickly wiping away the stray tears left on my cheeks off. Straightening my hair, I open the door with a smile on my face. "W-what's up?"
"I thought I heard screaming. Anything wrong?"
I furiously shake my head, wrapping my arms around my chest. "Your hearing's giving up on you, dad. Face it."
He walked into my room, looking around before back at me. "Hun, are you alright?"
No, I'm not. I was almost eaten by a killer clown. "Never been better. In fact, I would feel even more better if I were able to sleep." I grab his arm, leading him out the doorway as I slightly shut the door, resting against the small peak that was left open.
"Monet, I'm serious. I-"
"Goodnight, dad. Love you!"
I quickly shut my door, resting against it as I close my eyes. With the sudden scene from not only minute ago began to play again and again within my mind like a record player. Repeating itself over and over. The clown was in my memory. No way was it ever going to get out. But, with everything happening so quickly, I didn't know what to believe. With no hesitation, I didn't even think about walking anywhere near the trash can that held the ripped up photo.
Taking Frankie into my lap, I petted the companion in comfort. One thing to say was that I was nowhere close to sleeping tonight. Let alone, shutting the light off.
Hello everyone!
A new book, cause why not? I couldn't help the sudden urge of making this book after I saw the movie.
Not only was it humorous and scary, but enjoyable to watch. Because I'm nearly now obsessed with it, here it is! My new 'It' book!
Sorry for such a long chapter, it's just when I had the idea, it just kept flowing and flowing. Please leave comments as to what you think. Should the chapters be longer? Should they be shorter?
How do you like Monet? Pretty relatable or nah? This was such a more action pact chapter that I thought it was, but OH WHALE.
ANYWHO, hoped you guys enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to comment and vote!