It: New Kid on the Block

Chapter 17: Sickness

"Shit!" I yelled, seeing my vomit all over the nice carpet. "What the hell, Sara!" I heard Richie yell, coming down the hall to see me still vomiting. "Shit, Sara. Are you okay?" he said. He began holding my hair back and trying to move me to the bathroom, but I couldn't move. There was this gut wrenching pain that prevented me from moving. Any time I felt better or tried to speak, more vomit. Tried to move, more vomit. Finally, it passed, and all that was left was the reeking smell of all the vomit. "Down the hall to your left is the bathroom," he sighed. "I'll try to clean this up." "No I-" "Sara, it's fine. Go take care of yourself while I figure out how the fuck Im supposed to clean this up."

I went to the bathroom and threw up a bunch more (I was having so much fun!!) Finally I was able to was my face off, and go back out where Richie was trying to clean out the vomit. "Carpet bombs." I said. He looked at me funny, which made me laugh. "The carpet cleaning bomb things. Put them on the spot with some water and it'll be clean by morning." I said. He did, and the smell went away almost instantly. "What kind of fuckery is this?"

I walked back into his room. I lie down on the bed and it felt so amazing. "Would you like to tell me what happened. "In the dream. I saw caskets. Two of them. Eddie and Stan." I said. "Who else was there?" he asked. "You, Bill and Bev. Ben and Mike weren't there. Bev told you they were with me. I was dead." I replied. He sunk down next to me, and could feel him slightly shaking. "This isn't real though, right? It's just a dream." 

"Yes, Rich. It's just a dream. I'm not goin  anywhere soon, Eddie's too cautious, and whoever thinks they're going to kill Stan has a different issue." I said. He laughed a bit, and I could feel him and grab my hand tightly. "Promise me. You're not leaving." "Promise."

I lied on the bed and stared at the ceiling as Richie fell back to sleep. Was it a dream though? Everything else was real, how can i be sure this wasn't. Was I really going to die? 

I finally drifted back into sleep. Everytime my eyes closed they'd flutter back open in terror. Not of the nightmares, but of getting sick. 

Eventually, I forgot and fell into a deep sleep. And for the first time in weeks, not one nightmare stopped me.