"One day, I'm gonna save your ass and you're probably gonna wanna make out with me."
Lizzy was getting really sick of being hit on by Richie Tozier, but then again a weird annoying horny preteen boy was nothing compared to a shape shifting inter dim...
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It had certainly been a while since Lizzy had last set foot on Derry soil, 22 years to be exact.
Timidly looking out of the car window as her cab driver passed by the countless streets she'd played on as a child, Lizzy examined each house individually slowly remembering the faces of each old classmate that lived in them.
Dropping her bags off at a motel, she figured that she owed it to visit her childhood abode.
Derry appeared to have not changed one bit, as if it was still stuck in the 80s with her childhood memories, waiting for her to come back and rejuvenate life into it. The thought of even being back scared Lizzy a bit, her brief struggle to find air evidently proving this.
Why the fuck did she come back?
Because of some stupid childhood promise? She'd grown up, there was no point in picking at almost healed wounds just in case there was room for the slightest bit of closure. What was she expecting to gain from returning? A relationship with her sister that had been strained since she left? A trip down memory lane for the hell of it? Lizzy could admit she'd had some delusional ideas in the past but this just took the cake. Derry was like a Disney character, within the context of their story they're fine but when you place them into the real world - problems start arising.
Betty had been phoning her nonstop, she'd been researching the obscure town and found out about all the missing child cases during the 80s, all around when Liz was a kid. The girl had been concernedly bombarding her with question after question, like "Has this got something to do with your twin sister?" and "Will I ever see you alive again?"
It got so bad that Lizzy just decided to mute her contact, as well as all of the other LA crew that were trying to get ahold of her. This was something she had to do alone. She had to right the wrongs she'd made as a kid. A stupid, naive kid who was too innocent to realise what really went on in the world.
West Broadway.
The street sign came into view and Lizzy's petite figure snapped into place as if she was wearing a back brace. It was exactly how she remembered it. The whimsical houses of Derry's richest lined up in two adjacent rows. She noticed the light blue hue of the Keene-Bowie household, sparking back the thought of Greta. Lizzy wasn't even sure if the girl's parents would still live there. Sure, Keene Pharmacy still existed - she'd drove past it earlier but their marriage was on the rocks as it is and Liz could bet that the what happened to their daughter only propelled it's destruction further. Despite all the trouble Greta had caused her over the years, Liz Dwyer could only think about the girl shrouded in pity, not hatred. Greta wasn't evil, she was just a bitch. She didn't deserve to be stuck here.
But there was no time to think about her anymore, not when the cab parked outside 34 West Broadway. Her childhood home.
It stood untouched by the 27 years that had passed, apart from the withered tree swing that lay limp like an old noose. Deteriorating after not being used since Frankie's disappearance.
