Two

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• Stanley •

It was the first day of school. My father woke me up at about four AM. I hopped out of bed, got dressed, washed my face, and "did" my hair- although there wasn't much to be done about it.

   I finished up at about five, giving me two hours to sit around and do nothing.

   So I sat in the kitchen with my parents, my mom making breakfast and my dad reading the newspaper- which nobody bought anymore- with the TV on. They always told me TV would rot my brain, so they kept it on the news channel and hid the remote. Unsurprisingly.

   "Last night! Georgie Denbrough of Derry Elementary went missing. It's suspected that he was murdered, although there's not a lot of solid evidence to go by. With two mourning parents and older bother, Georgie will be greatly missed. Parents, keep your children safe! Now, an interview with his family members..."

   "First, Bill Denbrough in Derry Middle School." The reporter turned to the side, holding his microphone to a boy about my age, possibly younger, with auburn hair and eyes rimmed with tears.

   Some questions were asked along the lines of "How does Georgie's disappearance impact your family?" and "What's your advice for the parents watching right now?" The boy replied to each question with a brief answer and a sharp stutter. I rested my cheek in the palm of my hand, watching closely. The boy... "Bill," was kind of...

   Cute?

   "A little boy went missing, hm?" my father asked, setting the newspaper down. "Do you know his older brother? Bill?"

   I didn't, but the balding reporter guy said he went to the middle school, so I only shrugged. Today I'd be starting sixth grade... Bill could be an eighth grader, for all I knew.

  "We should do something nice for him."

   My stomach churned at the thought of my parents doing anything even slightly related to Bill. It was the first day of school- I wasn't even on the bus yet- and they were already on their way to embarrass me.

   "I want you to befriend Bill first, if you can. Then maybe we'll visit his family with a nice bundt cake."

   My mother smiled at that idea, setting our plates down in front of us. She made my favorite- biscuits and gravy, with sausage. I smiled back at her briefly and started to eat.

   I was okay with the idea of befriending Bill, but I didn't want to visit them with a bundt cake- it was unnecessary. However, I knew that my parents were set on that. And once their mind was made, there was no changing it.

"kiss me" • stenbroughWhere stories live. Discover now