Same clothes as the last chapter :)
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The soft clicking of a bike wheel still turning filled my ears.
"Bill, you can't go in there!" Bev yelled. She shook her head, flailing her arms to make her point.
There was a moment of staring at the tall boy in front of the door. It was just silence. The birds weren't chirping. The only noises there were was our breathing.
"Look, you don't have to come with me. But what happens when another Georgie goes missing? Or another Betty Ripsom, or Edward Corcran? Or one of us? Are you just going to pretend it isn't happening like everybody else? Because I can't. Everyday, I go home, and see that Georgie isn't home. I see his clothes, his toys, his stupid stuffed animals, but he isn't. So walking into this house... it's easier than walking into my own."
He turned away, bringing his hands up to his eyes. I could only step forward, wrapping my arms around the boy.
"Wow..." Richie said. For once, his voice was quiet.
"What?" A curious Ben asked.
"He didn't stutter once," Richie continued, looking at the ground.
I let my arms fall from around his body, listening to everybody's collective sighs. Only a moment passes before everybody follows him into the rickety old house, careful of loose boards on the stairs and their hands getting splinters. Until Stan spoke up,
"Wait! Um, shouldn't we have someone... keep watch?"
He quite obviously didn't want to go inside. I couldn't blame him, but I wanted to find Georgie just as much as the stutter himself.
"Who wants to s-s-stay here?" Bill asked, turning to face us. Everybody raised their hands, save for Bev and myself.
"Fuck," Richie mumbled out.
"Let's draw s-straws," Bill said, beginning to look around on the ground.
"I don't know if you've noticed, Einstein, but we aren't exactly in the Kaspbrak's kitchen. Where will we find any fucking straws?" Richie said, his tone sounding very matter-of-factly.
"We'll use these," Bill said, holding up a cluster of sticks. He began to walk to each one of us, letting us take a stick. When he finally got to me. He still his the size of the wood, until I let it fall into my opens. It was one of the longer ones. Furrowing my brows, I snapped it in half, letting the dry-rotted bark crumbled to my feet.
"What was that for?" Stan asked me. I turned towards him, opening my mouth to speak.
"I'm going in whether the stick likes it or not."
"Are you sure?"
"Whatever lives in here took Bill's little brother. It took Edward Corcran, and Betty Ripsom. It took the people of this town to the grave. I'm not letting that happen to someone I love," I said, my tone sharp and threatening.
"So yes, yes I am."
I let myself follow Eddie, Bill and Richie into the house. The floorboards creaked under our footsteps. I followed close to Eddie, who was something on my mind. Why was the asthmatic, hypochondriac of our close circle in this dusty house.
"I can't believe I pulled the short stick. You're lucky we're not measuring dicks," Richie said. I could tell he was trying to be funny, but not a single laugh escaped anybody's lips, not even his.
"Does it look like I have a dick, dumbass," I retorted quietly, looking cautiously around what I assumed to be the kitchen.
"I can smell it," Eddie mumbled, keeping his inhaler close to his mouth.
"Don't breath through your mouth," Richie said.
"Why not?"
"Because then you're eating it," Richie said. Finally, he let a little laugh escape his lips while my brother gagged. He stood to the side, respecting our space if he would really vomit.
"Really, Rich?" I nodded sarcastically, making my way over to Eddie. He had stopped gagging now, but he still looked a little disgusted.
Richie had broken away from the group. Everyone heard a rustling noise from afar, but when we turned to see what it was, it was a panicked jokester. His fingers ran through his hair at rapid speed, his expression falling from a usual smirk to open mouth and furrowed brows.
"What's w-wrong, R-R-Richie?" Bill asked. The boy turned the paper around for us to see. There was a picture of him right on the poster. It copied his features exactly, right down to the shirt he wore right now.
"It says I'm missing," He said, waving the thing around. I tried to read it, but I couldn't with him flailing.
"But you're not-" I started.
"Police department! City of Derry! That's my shirt! That's my hair!"
I looked around frantically, trying to find any way to calm him down. But there was no way that something dirty and disgusting, which are the only things in this house, would make him feel any better. So I did the only logical thing I could thing of, which was shake him by the shoulders a little bit. I'm sure Eddie would've done it, but he seemed to scared to deal with him right now.
"That's my name! That's my age! That's the date!" He continued. I gave up, backing away from him. He would have pushed me away anyway.
"Richie, it's not real!" Bill shouted, but wasn't really heard over the boys cries.
"It says it! Am I missing? Am I going to go missing?" Richie yelled, frantically waving the paper around. I wished Eddie would do something. If he did it, it would work, because the two had a hard for each other.
"Richie, listen to me!" Bill said sternly, grabbing Rich by the shoulder and shaking him. "You're not missing! IT's just playing tricks on you!"
Richie softened his stiff posture. He put his hands down. The paper fluttered to the grayed floor, slipping over all the dust. His lips were in a straight line, not smirking like he normally was. I was about to say something to him and Bill, but another voice echoed from somewhere upstairs before I could muster out any words.
"Hello?"
A wave of realization hit me. That was Betty Ripsom's voice. She sounded like she would cry. Her voice cracked again when she said,
"Someone help me! Please!"
I backed up, instantly regretting the trek through weeds and overgrown grass to get to the front door.
"What was that?"
I felt Bill clasp his hand over mine. It felt so nice, but had little effect in making feel better as we began to walk up the steps. We hadn't even reached the top when I saw a mess of curly hair and a dirty face. But as we got closer to the top, I saw that it was only her upper half. I shrunk backwards, shutting my eyes at the sight of blood and black sludge pooling from the middle of her waist. None of us saw anything behind her, no rope, no string, but she was pulled back to wherever she came from. I jumped back, knocking into someone along the way.
"Are you okay?"
I had bumped Richie, who had placed his hand on my shoulders. My lip quivered and I could feel a sudden wave of nausea flood over me, but I nodded my head, looking at the three doors in front of us. There was nothing else in the room except for a mattress that looked like it hadn't been used in years. It was covered in layers of soot and soil, cracked dry mud and dust.
I turned my head around, wanting to see the face of my brother, but I didn't. He wasn't behind us like a moment ago.
"Eddie? Guys, where'd he go?" I asked, whipping my head around to face them. But a wall I'm certain wasn't there before had made it's way to stop me. Though I couldn't see them, I could hear them crying for Eddie on the other side.
"Guys?"
I turned around once more, this time nearly running face first into a door. It was white, covered in bloody hand prints. More black sludge pooled into the room from the crack under the door. It bubbled as if it were boiling, making little splashes every time it popped.
"Guys? Where are you?" I yelled. I had begun to throw fists at the door. I had tried before, but it wouldn't budge. It didn't matter whether I pushed or pulled, it wouldn't open. The sludge pouring from under the door made its way to soak my feet. The soles of my Converse were stained a deep grey.
I waited until my fists were bloodied as I stopped throwing sideways punches to the door the wouldn't open to turn around. I screwed my eyes shut, wishing to turn around to see the faces of Bill and Richie. I just wanted to find my brother. I wanted to get out of this house. But of course, the wall was still there, along with the clown.
Pennywise stood there in all of his disgusting glory. His ruffled collar was crusty dry with drool, but wetted again with the masses pouring from his red painted lips, which curled up into a wicked smile. His teeth shone in the light from the single lightbulb that lit the room from above, sticking out of his mouth like razors. The eyes IT portrayed glowed highlighter yellow, then cobalt blue, then finally blank. I could only stare as his mouth opened wide, looking like a peeled-open shoe, revealing three white lights.
I felt myself being lifted off the sludgy floor. I could feel my wrists tighten in place so I couldn't move my hands. My fingers curled up into fists. My legs buckled, like I was trying to touch my toes without bending my knees. I felt lightheaded, like I was about to pass out. But instead of being physically harmed like I expected to, I was being punched in the heart with my mothers actions.
There was a girl, about fifteen or so. She had long brown hair that was tatted and unkempt, covering her face that was covered in dirt. Her cheeks were dripping with brown water as rain and tears streaked her face clean. The clothes that she wore on her frail body were torn apart, nearly to shreds. Her feet bore no shoes, only socks that were stretched over so you could see her toes through the old blue fabric.
The lady wearily stepped up the porch stairs of a pale green house. The door was painted white with a small blue wreath. The front yard was doused with daffodils and dandelions. The grass was green, spewing clovers of all sizes through the dirt. That was my house. That was my yard. That was my shed filled with my moms gardening tools and my pool toys. That was my whole world right there.
She rang the doorbell, setting something wrapped in a quilt on the faded brown welcome mat. Then, realization hit me. That little baby wrapped up in the quilt was me. That was the quilt that Sonia Kaspbrak claimed she bought me when she found out she had twins. That was the quilt that Eddie always grabbed from my bedroom when we watched a movie. That was the quilt that I snuggled into after my first encounter with IT.
I now saw her run away, wiping her face with the long sleeve of her ratty shirt. Though the moment was silent, I could hear in my mind the sound of rain splashing in pavement puddles and the sobs of my real mother as she hurled herself out of my life forever.
My now mother opened the door, looking around the porch when she saw that nobody stood there. But she looked down by her feet when a tiny cry let out from my cold body. I had reached a little arm up to reach for her. The face she made was so shocked yet so confused at the same time.
But she took me in.
She raised me with her son. The son that I had come to love as my own brother. The son that I joked around with. The son I crawled into bed beside when the storms outside or the nightmares in my head woke me up. The son named Eddie.
I was dropped to the floor, which had now cleared of black sludge and blood. It was just a hard floor that shot pain through my leg. I gripped the handle on the door in an attempt to stand up, only to fall to the floor again. IT made me weak. IT made me feel this way. He's trying to kill me.
"Don't you see? You can't even trust your own mother."
I let out a battle cry as my fists boomed against the door once again.
"Shut up! You're not real!" I said, my voice rising to a scream. It was only them that the door flew open, revealing Richie and Bill. But still no Eddie.
"H-holy shit! Are you a-alr-alright?" Bill questioned. I could feel the floor below me creak as he crouched in front of me. I nodded best I could, letting the feeling of relief wash over me. But it drained, filling with panic all over again.
"Where's Eddie?" I croaked out, gripping onto his arm as we made our way down the hall. Just then, a scream erupted from down the stairs. I knew instantly that it was my brother, but I didn't quite have the strength yet to lunge down the old wooden steps to help him.
"Billy, we gotta help him!" I let myself yell. He did his best to keep me on my feet as we whisked away down the stairs behind Richie. We ended up in the kitchen, which was now covered in broken glass, crumpled cans, table legs and an off white table cloth somewhere in the corner.
"Eddie!"
The same clown I saw in that mystery room loomed over him. I assumed he came from the open refrigerator beside them, which stunk of mold and mildew. Eddie crouched against one of the lower cabinets, whimpering. He held his right arm close to his chest.
As soon as it noticed, the clown turned around to face us. His dingy-gloved hand was still pressed against my brothers face, muffling his cries for help.
"This isn't real enough for you, Billy? I'm not real enough? I was real enough for Georgie!" It cackled. IT's voice was raspy like he needed air as it turned the rest of its body, lunging at us from across the room. I continued to cling to Bill, not moving a muscle. I needed to face my fear.
It happened when he was just a foot away. Beverly stood behind the creature, looking scared and shocked and confused all at the same time. The sound of a screech rang through the dusted-over room, the clown disappearing into the room that us three came through, leaving a deep slice on Ben's stomach.
"Don't let him get away!" Bill cried, turning to chase him. But I pulled more than I was already, practically forcing him to stay put.
"What about Eddie?" I whimpered, tears already coming to my eyes. I could see him shouting at Richie, who said that he was going to snap his arm back into place. That's when the crack seemed to echo in the room. It made me sick, shutting my eyes tight as if that would help get rid of the sound.
-
I watched with blurry vision as Eddie and I were shoved into the back seat of our mothers car. She didn't even bother to shut the door, giving us the ears to hear the words she and our friends shared.
"You did this!" She cried. "You know how delicate they are!"
I let my cries ring from inside of the car. I didn't want to cry, but I couldn't help myself. I couldn't even hear most of their words over my own sobs.
"No! You're all monsters! My children are done with you!" My mom yelled at them, attempting to get her car key from the mess of her key chain. But she threw them down in frustration. Beverly, being the nice girl she is, tried to help her. But my mom pushed her away, nearly sending her to the ground.
"I've heard all about you! I don't want a dirty girl like you around my kids," she hissed. Though I wanted to so badly, I couldn't bring myself to talk down to her. I know how she'd act. She'd get all upset, like she lost someone dear. It wouldn't be pretty.
Finally, after she slammed the door, she started the car. We had got to moving only a couple of miles an hour when I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the drivers side door.
"[Y-n], what're you-"
I didn't hear the rest of his words. I jumped right out of the car, almost falling to the pavement. The car stopped, a frantic Eddie looking out of the back seat, his expression hinting that he might cry. My mother was about to begin yelling again, but I stopped her.
"Save it, Mom. I'm done. I'm not going home with an adult who believes the rumors spread about a thirteen year old girl. I'm not going home with someone who will just tell her kids to stop talking to their friends!" I cried, backing towards the group of kids behind me.
(Hey! Sorry for no updates, I was kinda busy. I'm redoing my bedroom at my house and have been helping construct a closet. It's fun, but also time consuming. I also have had like, zero inspo for this the last few days. Once again, sorry for the slow updates. Also, I want to clarify that more Bill x Reader will be present. It will just be later in the book. Also, some Bev x Reader, because I've been feeling hella gay these past.... forevers. Hope you don't mind that! Love ya'll!)