Look What I Found!

Ch. 2

Richie Tozier was regretting ever driving from California to New York. He should have just taken a plane. But after being in the deadlights, floating up and up... He just couldn't set foot on another plane.

But it's almost been a year since Stan and Eddie passed away. Murdered. He had to visit their graves. Stan was the first; Patty was already there. How she knew he would be there was beyond him. But they both loved Stan, and in return, they loved each other.

When they showed up, she didn't question why strangers were claiming to be her late husband's best friends. She didn't ask where they'd been. She just silently let them grieve with her. And she most certainly didn't question when Richie finally told her everything that had happened. Instead, she claimed she believed him.

They helped one another through a lot of grief they endured. They both lost the love of their life, and Patty fit in perfectly with the Losers Club. It would have made Stan happy that his wife got along great with all of them.

It took a lot of courage to leave his home and come down to New York. Scratch that. It took a lot of courage to leave his house at all. None of the Losers went to Eddie's funeral, not like they did Stan's either. Myra refused to let the people that did this to her husband set foot there.

And he honestly couldn't blame her. They did this to him. He did this to him. If only he had pulled him out of the way. And for fucks sake! He saw it in the deadlights, so why didn't he react?

His thoughts were getting too much, and he couldn't see where he was going in this storm. If he doesn't pull over soon, he might see Stan and Eddie sooner than he thought... But that wouldn't be so bad.

Where even was he anyway? His phone died a good mile back and was still charging, but he's positive it said he was in Indiana. Which part? He had no idea. He even had to turn the radio down to see through the storm. And yes, that makes perfect sense. But in all honesty, he was on a 2-way road, trees on each side of him and in front of him. The place also gave him major Derry vibes, which was never good.

He squinted at the blackness in front of him before a blurry outline came into view. He noticed it was a sign, but he couldn't see what it said. He hoped he was going the right way and getting out of this Derry wannabe place. But before he even passed it, a blur shot out of the woods. He swerved the car, but not far enough; For the thing that jumped in front of him was hit with the side of the vehicle.

Richie lost control, fishtailing it for a solid 30 seconds before coming to an abrupt halt. In the end, he had managed to turn his car back around, for he was on the other side of the sign, which he could barely read, said, 'Welcome to Hawkins.' The population status scratched out over time.

With his lights on, he could make out a black lump on the ground, not moving. He hopped out of his car, the rain instantly soaking into his jacket, while he ran to the unknown object.

"Please don't be a person. Please don't be a person. Please don't be a-GOD DAMN IT!"

The person on the ground wore nothing but a loose t-shirt and a pair of jeans. A backpack was discarded near him with its contents spilled out. Taking a closer look, he saw that they were clothes and what appeared to be a few personal items.

Shit, did he hit a homeless person?

He picked up the items, placing them in the bag before slinging them over his shoulder. He gently squatted down, his knees protesting to the position, and shook the person. As he expected, he got no response. He scooped the person up; a pool of blood forming around his head like a halo. He realized how tiny they were and what he could see, how young they were.