GHOST - IT [1]

THIRTEEN.

Downtown was hectic. Kids and adults alike bustled around, most wearing costumes that fit the theme of the parade. One of the band marchers, a man with a large tuba, had been abruptly stopped because Richie decided it was his place to try the tuba for himself. He blew into it and danced around wildly. Jaime would have felt embarrassed if it wasn't for every adult in this damn town being cursed. She shifted her attention to Bill, Beverly, Mike, Ben, and Stan all gathered around another missing child poster. Eddie had gone to get ice cream cones.

Edward Corcoran. That was the name of yet another missing kid. He was only twelve years old, uncomfortably close to the ages of the Losers. His picture, smiling and vibrant, brought a pain to Jaime's chest. For Edward and all of his loved ones, life had changed in just the blink of an eye. He was no longer smiling, he was plastered on a brick wall for the whole town to glance at and ignore.

"They say they found his chewed up hand near the sewers." Stan said. Jaime gulped.

"He asked to borrow a pencil once." Ben said solemnly.

Bill walked forward and peeled up the poster of Edward. Underneath was none other than Betty Ripsom's missing poster. Jaime wanted to hurl at the fact that everyone was just replacing sign after sign, not even bothering to leave previous ones up and visible. This town had to be filled with pansies if they wanted to just hold up a shield. No, you don't do that. You don't get approached by a demon and hold up a shield, hoping to whatever God out there that it's enough to hold you off. You fight. You claim what was once yours.

"It's like she's been f...forgotten about." He stuttered.

"Because Corcoran is missing." Jaime said. "And soon, Corcoran will be forgotten as well."

Stan stared at the poster longingly. "Is it ever going to end?"

Jaime happened to glance over and see Richie and the tuba dude having a tug-of-war with said brass instrument. She sighed and attempted to ignore the childish scene.

"Hey, what're you guys talking about?" Eddie asked, emerging from the corner holding two vanilla ice cream cones. Richie rushed forward at the sight of ice cream and took one of the cones.

"What they always talk about." He licked his cone noisily.

"Murder, mystery, the crippling fear of the unknown." Jaime said.

Ben ignored that. "I do think it will end." He said to Stan. "For a little while, at least."

Beverly turned to face him. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

Jaime turned too. What did Ben mean by that? For a little while? What kind of demonic child-napping creature only reappears every few years?

"When I was going over all of my Derry research," he began, "I charted out all of the big, pivotal events. The Iron Works explosion in 1908, the Bradley Gang in 1935, the Black Spot in 1962...and now, innocent kids disappearing...I realized, this kind of stuff only happens every 27 years."

Despite being outside in the early summer afternoon, a cold chill ran down Jaime's spine. Eddie and Richie no longer were interested in their ice cream, and Beverly was dangerously engrossed in what Ben had to say. Everyone else shifted uncomfortably, trying to make sense of it all. A person couldn't be the cause of this, not one person...not for a repetitive crime dating back nearly a hundred years ago. Jaime trembled at the thought of a certain shape-shifting clown having something to do with this.

-

That's the conclusion the confused group came to. There was something evil hanging over the town of Derry, and no one had paid any mind to it until now. Although the possibility of a clown being the cause of so many horrific historical events was equivalent to the possibility of Richie going a full day without making a 'your mom' joke, it seemed like the most rational out of all the other possibilities. Jaime didn't know you could stoop to such an irrational level, but here she was, sitting in a circle at the Derry Central Park with her friends and discussing the very issue at hand.

"So, it comes out to eat kids for a year and then it just...hibernates?" Richie asked, disbelief evident on his scrunched up face. He sat on his bike cushion, while Jaime sat beside him on the grass and twirled a blade of grass between her fingers.

"Cicadas." Stan said randomly. Everyone looked up at him, sitting atop the same bench Mike, Beverly, and Ben were on. "They come out every...seventeen years if I remember." Jaime nodded in agreement, remembering that one science lesson Mr. Weavers taught. Cicadas lived underground for a couple decades, then emerge and find a tree to shed their exoskeleton.

Mike shook his head. "I don't know. My grandpa says Derry is cursed. He thinks all of the bad things that happen in this town are because of one thing. Some...evil thing."

"But it can't be one thing." Stan said.

"That's impossible. Nothing can conserve that much power and energy." Jaime joined in.

"Right. And we all saw something different."

Mike shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe so. Or maybe it knows what scares us most, so that's what we see."

A broken link connected in Jaime's brain at those words. That's why she saw a childhood cat, young Richie, and her older brother didn't believe her when she tried to explain her dilemma. Those were her fears; death, resentment, and abandonment. Her unwavering fear of rejection played some twisted part in the whole thing- but not enough to actually be a target.

"I saw a Lepur." Eddie spoke up. "He was a walking infection."

"But you didn't. None of this is real. Not Eddie's Lepur, not Bill seeing Georgie, not the woman I saw-"

"Is she hot?" Richie blurted.

Stan stared at Richie incredulously. "No, Richie! She isn't hot!" He swallowed hard. "Anyway, and whatever Jaime saw isn't real either."

"What d-d-did you see?" Bill asked her. Seven pairs of eyes landed on the sheepish girl. She caught eye contact with each one, but one she couldn't make eye contact with, was Richie. He couldn't know he was the structure behind her biggest fears.

"I..." She trailed off, brushing an ant off of her leg. "I saw death." She muttered. "Then I saw the clown."

That was enough of an answer, as no one questioned her. It still formed a sick pit in her stomach to know she was lying to her friends.

"None of this makes any sense!" Stan exclaimed. "They're just...bad dreams."

"I know the difference between a bad dream and real life. It wasn't a bad dream, what I saw. I was awake." Mike stated firmly. Jaime's jaw drooped.

"You saw something? What was it?" She asked.

"That burned house on Harris avenue...I was inside of it. While it was burning. I was rescued, but...my parents were trapped in the next room. Pounding on the door, trying to get to me and save me. It was just...too hot. When the firemen found them, the skin on their hands had melted down to the bone." He appeared as if he were fighting tears, but he was winning in the fight against his tear duct. "We're all afraid of something."

"Got that right." Richie said. Jaime looked up.

"Why, Rich? What are you afraid of?" Eddie asked. She knew the answer. The whole source behind her famous phrase she created in first grade.

Richie glanced over his shoulder. A circus-themed clown was on the park stage, preparing for the parade. "Fucking clowns."

A/N: cannot wait to publish fourteen. AND! i bought the book of IT the other day! although i'm excited to read it, i won't for awhile because 1, i don't want facts from the book to intervene with this fanfic (cuz this fanfiction is based SOLELY on the 2017 movie) and 2, i'm in the middle of Christine, another Stephen King book. my dad just recently bought me the book (as he's a huge King fan as well) and i'm LOVING it so far. OK I'LL SHUT UP NOW SORRY but thanks again for reading loves!!