Love Bites from Hell (IT Fanfic)

Little Town, Big Dreams

The bus ride to the town was less than pleasant; crowded by a pale, overweight man in cargo shorts. My legs ached from the five hour bus ride, thighs tense and knees begging to be cracked. To distract myself from the revolting man next to me, I plugged my headphones into my Walkman, playing some soft music to calm me down. After a long moment of silence that made minutes feel like days, I faintly heard the man next to me speak, "So what brings you to Derry?"
I paused and blinked, staring at the man oddly. He frowned a bit, "Well? It's rude to ignore somebody." I grimaced, "Well, I lived here as a child, I'm visiting relatives."
He grunted and rolled his eyes, "Im only here for the festival that's coming up, so that's all I'm here for."
I hummed in faux interest, letting my eyes wander back to the scenery out of the window. A big, wooden sign popped into view shortly. 'WELCOME TO DERRY' painted boldly on the old wood, a large cutout of a lumberjack stood beside it, large axe resting on his shoulder and his hand covering his eyes, as if surveying the setting sun. I smiled fondly, loving the old cutout of Paul Bunyan from a young age.

This year was the Boswell family reunion, most of my relatives, young and old, flew from around the world to visit. With a loud squeal, the old greyhound bus I boarded stopped at the Derry station, allowing all passengers to leave at the old building. Only a few others left the bus with me, grabbing their bags as quickly as they could. I had just turned 16 when my dad finally agreed to let me go to the reunion alone this year, so I made my way to my aunts house. Aunt Roselyn was a hefty woman, her round, chubby face always had a grin plastered to it; the only time it fell was during her allergy seasons. She stood on the porch, her yellow sundress complimenting her dark complexion. Her short and curly obsidian curls hanging loosely around her face, making her seem chubbier than she was. Once she saw me, her eyes lit up and her jaw dropped. "Ramona, my darling!" She ran her way over to me, pulling me into a tight embrace. Her accent was so thick, most people weren't able to understand a lick of what she said, but since I grew up around her, I was used to it. My aunt Roselyn practically raised me from infancy, my mother died from childbirth, and my dad always had to work. My skin was lighter than hers, my hair longer with faint hints of a deep grey hidden in the black. I hugged her back tightly, "It's good to see you too, aunt Roselyn." I smiled, patting her back once she decided to loosen her grip on me. I pulled back and smiled while she spoke, "Young one, I must warn you not to go out past seven o'clock. It's is very dangerous."
"So like my childhood?" I retorted, snorting slightly when she gave me her infamous, unamused look. "I'm serious, not without a group of friends."
I rolled my eyes, what friends? I'm only staying over the summer, so there isn't much time to make new friends. All I know is that the old well house was my main point for exploration, I loved that place.

While aunt Roselyn prepared dinner, I went right to work tinkering with her old bike, a bit too tall for me to ride it, but that wouldn't stop me. I fixed the old, chipped pedals and re-ran all the rusted chains, making it at least somewhat rideable. My only light source was an old flashlight she had in her basement, the old bulb barely illuminating the grass and bike before me. Although it wasn't quite seven o'clock, it was getting fairly dark; the sky clouding over and turning a dark grey. With a quiet huff of annoyance, I gathered up the tools and cans I had sprawled about, I placed them back in the old shed in the corner of her yard. I slowly rolled the old decrepit bike to its resting place in the wooden fixture, turning on my heels to leave when something caught my eye. An old golden pendent dangled from a hook, slightly dusty with a picture of a child in it. I didn't recognize the child, but I figured I would ask my aunt about it, so I grasped it within my fist. I ran my fingers over the engravings made in the precious metal, smiling a bit as I traced the simple flower design. I hurried from the creepy shed to the back door, swinging the screen open to step into the kitchen. My aunt had just finished setting the plates down. Three. There were three plates. I looked up at aunt Roselyn in confusion and slight irritability, "Who else is here?"
"Your cousin Monika!" I groaned, shoulders slumping in defeat. Monika was my second cousin once removed, she's only 10 and way too hyperactive for her own good, god forbid aunt Roselyn give her anything sugary or carbonated. As if on cue, Monika bounced down the stairs with all the energy of a spider monkey. Her black pigtails puffy as always? Wearing a pink and white striped sundress with white sandals. The ten year old smiled up at me, her two front teeth missing while I tried to smile that didn't make me look like a psychopath.

"Mona!" She screeched, latching on to my pants with her small fists, bouncing up and down excitedly. The kid was annoying, but I wouldn't tell aunt Roselyn that, it would break her heart. So looks like I'm stuck with this little demon until her time here runs out. Picking the kid up, I sat her in the third chair, sitting her beside aunt Roselyn while I sat on the other side of my aunt. After saying grace, I pulled out the pendent and set it tenderly on the table, catching aunt Roselyn's attention. Her happy demeanor fell as she glanced at me, "Where did you find it?"
"In the shed, while I was putting the bike away." I looked down awkwardly, poking at my food before she spoke up, "Why did you grab it?"
"Well..." I thought for a moment, "The kid in it, I don't know who it is, and I wanted to learn more about Derry."
Aunt Roselyn frowned a bit, "Are you sure you want to ask questions you aren't sure the answer of?" I was perplexed why she would ask that, of course I want to ask. I nodded silently before she continued, "His name is Richard Lombard, your uncle. He went missing in Derry a few years ago. He was only sixteen."
I looked a bit confused, "But aunty...." I paused, "you're only forty-three..."
"Yes, he went missing when we were both about your age." She continued quietly, "They still haven't found where he is, nor what had happened to him."