We'll Always Be Losers, No Matter What (IT Rewrite)

Georgie's Disappearance

On October 30, 1987, in Derry, Maine, Georgie Denbrough was seated in his bedroom, experiencing a profound sense of ennui as he gazed listlessly out of the window, which afforded a view of the small cul-de-sac neighborhood. Subsequently, he resolved to ascertain the activities of his elder brother, William (or Bill) Denbrough, under the premise that Bill could infuse any given day with the exhilaration akin to that of a day at the fair.

Bill reclined in bed, idly scribbling on his hand out of sheer ennui. Rainy days ranked as his least preferred, for they signified being confined indoors with his family, devoid of outdoor activities. "Billy?" Georgie asked, startling the shit out of Bill. "Wuh-what i-is it-it, Georgie?" Bill groaned, covering the blanket over his head. "What's wrong, are you sick?" Georgie asked. "Yeah! I-I'm s-sick, real-really sick," said Bill, fake coughing and getting a tissue from his nightstand. "Should I tell mom?" Georgie asked, concerned. "Nuh-no, sh-she's also suh-sick, and Duh-Dad doesn't cu-come b-back un-until six," said Bill. Georgie looked at Bill, with a glare that showed that he didn't believe that lie, but he shrugged it off. "Billy, I'm bored," groaned Georgie, jumping onto Bill's bed. "Hey, guh-get yo-your rear e-end o-off me!" Bill shouted (not angrily) while tickling Georgie. "Billy! Stop!" Georgie squealed, laughing. "Any-anyway, I kn-know, Georgie. Th-There's nuh-nothing t-to do," said Bill, landing back onto his pillow. "Not TV," fumed Georgie. "Georgie, wuh-we do-don't ha-have one," said Bill. "I know, but I sometimes wish we did," said Georgie, wishfully. "How-how ab-about wuh-we m-make y-you a bo-boat t-to suh-sail outside?" Bill suggested. "Yes!" Georgie exclaimed. "Al-alright, ju-just g-get the p-p-paraffin," said Bill, getting a Newspaper to make the boat. "Where is it?" Georgie asked. "In-In the base-basement o-on a sh-shelf. Wh-while you-your at it-it, buh-bring a kn-knife, a bo-bowl, an-and a puh-pack of-of muh-muh-matches," said Bill. "Ok," nodded Georgie, running to the basement.

The atmosphere in the Denbrough household was unsettlingly quiet, with no signs of usual activity. Despite the eerie silence, Georgie remained unfazed. When he approached the basement door, a wave of cold air hit him, and the darkness and chill inside the basement gave it a frightening aura. Despite the intimidating environment, Georgie surprisingly did not feel afraid, defying the typical reaction of someone his age. "Simply grab the supplies and get out. I don't want to make Billy wait." Georgie thought. With this in mind, he proceeded to descend the uneven basement stairs. The creaking noise emitted by the steps resembled that of an aging vehicle endeavoring to avert a breakdown amidst bustling thoroughfares, eliciting a shiver from Georgie. The basement was dimly lit and unwelcoming, with cobwebs creating the eerie illusion of a face with a sinister smile and unnaturally sharp fangs. 'Just my mind playing with me,' thought Georgie. Georgie opted to systematically search each shelf, as Bill had not specified a particular location for the supplies. It was imperative to exercise caution to prevent accidental damage to the aging and precarious basement structure. Georgie located the appropriate shelf and quickly collected the items while anxiously surveying the basement, sensing a presence watching him. When he noticed the absence of anything around him, he hastened up the stairs, only to be stopped in his tracks by a voice calling out to him. "I implore you, George 'Elmer' Denbrough, do not abandon me. I need help," cried out a voice with such intensity and horror that it deeply unsettled Georgie. Georgie refrained from halting and forcefully shut the door, apprehensive that the individual associated with the voice would pursue him.

Bill felt uncomfortable letting Georgie go outside by himself in the rain without any adult supervision. Bill considered the situation and concluded that it would be acceptable for him to monitor Georgie through your window. Furthermore, given the current weather conditions, Mrs. Garland will likely be positioned on her porch and will be able to keep an eye on Georgie, alleviating any concerns. Georgie ran into Bill's room, slamming the door and hiding under the covers. "G-Georgie, wh-what i-is wrong?" Bill snapped, upset that Georgie had scared the shit out of Bill. "There was someone in the basement," shivered Georgie. "Sure there was," mumbled Bill, grabbing the covers from Georgie. Georgie expressed displeasure when Bill took the comfort away and provided Bill with the resources to begin. Bill utilized a small pocket knife to unseal the box of paraffin and subsequently used it to carve a small cube. He then positioned the cube inside a bowl and ignited a match on top, resulting in a series of pleasing sounds. Georgie and Bill observed in a tranquil silence. When Georgie inquired about the necessity of their actions, Bill explained, "We must waterproof the boat to prevent it from getting wet." Georgie found Bill's explanation satisfactory, but found it weird that Bill didn't stutter. The cube within the bowl had nearly completely melted, presenting an unattractive appearance, yet emitting a surprisingly pleasant aroma. Bill inserted his pinkie into the bowl, causing steam to emerge as the Paraffin cube emitted a startling hiss. "It-It's hot," said Bill, wiping his pinkie with a cold towel. "Can I try?" asked Georgie, innocently. "Fuh-fine, just duh-don't guh-get the duh-duh-desk dirt-dirty," said Bill. Georgie carefully dipped his index finger into the bowl, feeling the warmth of the paraffin wax against his skin. Like a gentle embrace, the sensation was comforting as he began spreading the melted wax onto the delicate model paper boat. The soft glow of the warm wax illuminated the intricate details of the boat, creating a mesmerizing scene in the dimly lit room. "Geor-Georgie, not so-so fu-fucking muh-much, yo-you do-don't want t-to sin-sink on it-its fuh-first voyage, duh-do yo-you?!" Bill exclaimed, pulling the boat away from Georgie. "Sorry, Billy," mused Georgie. "It-It's OK, ju-just t-take it-it easy," said Bill, returning the boat to Georgie. Bill allowed Georgie to complete the paraffin application on the boat and beamed with pride as the task came to a close. "Duh-Damn," said Bill, smiling. "Thank you for helping me make the boat, Billy," said Georgie, pulling Bill into a warm hug. "Tuh-Technically, I 'sh-shaped' th-the boat, bu-but you-you're wel-welcome Georgie," said Bill. "I wish you could come with me," pleaded Georgie. "I-I kn-know," mused Bill, getting the boat and writing 'S.S Georgie'. "Th-There, now sh-she's re-ready," said Bill, handing Georgie the boat. "She?" said Georgie, confused. "Ye-yeah, yo-you call buh-boats 'she'," said Bill. Georgie nodded in agreement and dashed out of Bill's room to fetch his rain gear. Bill gazed at the doorway, contemplating whether to caution Georgie against going outside, but ultimately dismissed the idea. He reasoned that he'd rather contend with a soggy Georgie than a complaining one.

Georgie, clad in a bright yellow raincoat and vibrant green rainboots, excitedly stepped outside. With a mischievous grin, he carefully positioned a small boat on the edge of the street and took off running. His laughter echoed through the air as he reveled in the sheer joy of the moment. However, his excitement turned to despair as he tripped over a 'Caution: Construction!' sign, sending the boat careening into a storm drain. Despite peering into the drain in hopes of spotting the boat, it seemed that all hope was lost as it disappeared into the dark, swirling depths below. "'Holy macaroni!' Georgie exclaimed as he was taken aback by the sight of something staring right back at him. The creature staring back at him had horrifying bright yellow eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness, emitting an eerie, sour glow. Georgie's heart raced as he prayed that the source of the eyes was just an innocent animal. He braced himself to sprint home when the voice spoke, in a bone-chilling tone: "Hello, Georgie." At first, Georgie was confused, he didn't know that animals could speak the same language as humans, but that seemed impossible. That sounded too fantastical to be real, that some sort only happens in Cartoons (not that Georgie watched Cartoons much). As Georgie got a closer look, he soon realized that what he was seeing was not an animal. It looked like a clown, maybe a mixture of Ronald McDonald and Bozo, but the clown was one Georgie had never seen before. The clown had a bundle of red balloons in his hands, with Georgie's boat in his right hand. "Do you want your boat back, Georgie?" The clown asked. "Yes, please," said Georgie. The clown gave Georgie a toothy grin and nodded in approval. "That's good! How 'bout a balloon as well?" asked The clown. "Yeah!" Georgie exclaimed, about to reach in to get his boat before hesitating and pulling his hand back. "I'm not allowed to talk to strangers," mused Georgie. "I'm no stranger, I'm Pennywise, The Dancing Clown! Everyone knows me! Now you do as well!" The clown exclaimed. "I guess so, but how did you get down here?" asked Georgie. "I went away with the storm, as well as the circus! Do you like the circus, Georgie?" Pennywise asked. "Yeah," said Georgie, shyly. "The circus is down here, do you smell it, Georgie?" Pennywise asked. "I do!" Georgie exclaimed. The smell was a sweet candy smell with a hint of vanilla and cake, which reminded Georgie of the kitchen when his Mom was baking cakes for Georgie on his birthdays. "Smells like Heaven, doesn't it?" Pennywise asked, sweetly. "Yep," giggled Georgie. "Do you want your boat back? I only repeat twice because you seem unwilling," said Pennywise. "Yes," said Georgie, trying not to lose his patience with the 'sweet' clown. "And a Balloon too?" asked Pennywise. "Do they float?" asked Georgie. "Oh yes, they do, now, here's your boat back," said Pennywise, handing Georgie the boat. Georgie reached for the boat, only for Pennywise's face to change. His mouth widened huge, showing sharp fangs, showing a bright light that hypnotized Georgie. "We all float down here, Georgie Denbrough, you'll float too!" snarled Pennywise, now using an angry little girl's tone. Georgie snapped out of Pennywise's trance and tried to escape, only to have his arm bitten off. Blood sprayed all over Georgie and Pennywise, with Pennywise grinning widely and licked it off, with passion. "No!" Georgie shouted, trying to crawl away from the storm drain. Blood splid all over the street, looking like blood had rained from the sky. "I don't think so, Georgie. I need a friend and I've decided that you are perfect!" shrieked Pennywise (with that little girl tone), grabbing Georgie by the leg. "Billy!" screamed Georgie. "He can't hear you~" snickered Pennywise. Just then, Mrs. Kinyla came out of her house to let her dog do their business when she spotted Georgie on the street. Georgie let out a scream so desperate that you could mistake Georgie for a banshee. Just then, Georgie was pulled into the storm drain, never to be seen again, just as Mrs. Kinyla put her attention back to the street, and saw nothing but blood. She shrugged it off, went back inside her house, and alerted The Denbroughs. That their younger son was gone. Disappeared into fucking thin air.