Love Bites from Hell (IT Fanfic)

The Lost Ones are Weeping

I stood on the old wooden planks of the porch, the flyer held tightly in my fist as I punched the old paneling along the side of the house. Aunt Roselyn looked up with her swollen eyes and spoke softly, "Ramona, who would've done this?"
I stared down at my sneakers, the once vibrant blue now smudged with dirt and grass clippings, "I don't know aunt Roselyn, but whoever or whatever it is, I won't let it get away with this."
She looked a bit confused before the sound of police sirens quickly approaching my home. Officer Bowers came bounding out of his car only to stop and stare at me, suspicion written all over his face. I could already tell what he was going to ask me. "Ramona," He spoke heatedly, "Where is Monika?"

"I don't know." I growled, my hands trembling with anger and frustration, I love my little cousin, why would they think I hid her somewhere? How could they think I would harm her in any way? Aunt Roselyn stopped officer Bowers before he could as another question, "Mr. Bowers, Ramona has nothing to do with this. She left this morning with her friends and Monika was playing in the backyard when she.... was taken.." She had to place her hand over her mouth to stifle a whimper of a sob. I gently placed my hand on her back before a sudden thought ran through my mind, my head pounding heavily due to the events of the morning. All of this before it was even eleven o'clock. "The Neibolt house." I whispered, "Check the Neibolt house."

"That old place?" The second officer asked, "Nobody's been in that old dump in years!"
I let out a harsh growl and grabbed the collar of his uniform, pulling him down to be eye level with me, my breath hot against his face, "You check that god damn house, and you bring my little cousin back. Do you understand me?"
He nodded frantically, shaking in his boots causing the losers club to chuckle at how the grown man was afraid of a teen girl. Officer Bowers narrowed his eyes in my direction, "How would you know to check the old Neibolt house?"
"Because I know that Monika liked the old house, she wanted to go exploring in it when I first got here. But she was too small and much too clumsy to even go in there."

The second officer simply grabbed his keys off of his belt and jogged to his squad car, climbing in the drivers seat without a moments hesitation. I looked at aunt Roselyn and gently hugged her, trying to console her from the terrifying events of the morning. She let out small sniffle before she went back inside, all of the group dispersing and leaving to their homes. Bill stayed behind for a moment as he hugged me, "I'm so sorry about Monika." He frowned and pulled away to grab his bike, and I knew the look on his face. It was one of despair and terror. Had he seen what I had? Maybe I wasn't so crazy after all.

I didn't want to go into the now emptier house, I couldn't stand not seeing the gap toothed smile of my little cousin, it just didn't feel right. After sitting on the porch for what seemed like hours, I heard the sound of a cars engine chugging slowly along the road. I let my eyes land on the old car, of course it was Henry, I rolled my eyes. The car pulled into my driveway, the two teens getting out without their usual snarky attitude. Patrick looked sullen, his hair still slicked back, but his eyes cast downwards towards the gravel as he walked. Henry had a sympathetic look on his features, his eyes showing a hint of remorse as he walked closer.

    I was never very fond of these two, but at this point, who else could I turn to? They walked a bit closer, sitting down on the porch beside my trembling form, Patrick wrapping his jacket around me to shield me from the chilly autumn air. I grasped onto the jacket, pulling it tighter around my body as I let my tears fall freely. The salty liquid ran down my cheeks in long, wet streaks that cascaded down my tan skin and onto the jeans I wore. Henry wrapped one arm around me while Patrick placed his hand on my knee, neither said a word, but it was clear we were all communicating. As time passed, I wiped my tears away with the sleeves of Patrick's jacket, my form still wracking with barely obtained sobs of remorse.