Your Truth Lies Down Here: Volume 1 [1990 Pennywise Fan-fiction]

Blue

"plastic blue invitations in my room. I've been waiting here for you. Reservations made for two. Sunlight fading........

...... Black tongues speak faster than the car can crash, you'll provide the rumor, and I'll provide the wrath. Reflections carving every face in two, casting shadows in the pale shade of blue......"

"Are you down there?" I asked with a hush voice, to ensure I wouldn't disturb my grandparents in their slumber.

I waited a few moments, but to my dismay there was no answer to my call. What did I expect? I probably belonged in a mental facility at this point.

I sighed and sat down, leaned up against the tub wall. I sat, hugging my knees to my chest and leaning my head down. Closing my eyes, I huffed dissatisfied with my questions that have been left with no solid answer.

My mind wandered to the horrid dream I had previously awoken from. I remember him saying something about hiding behind lies or some bull.

"Oblivious to your eyes, you live behind lies. As hunger swells, you'll find in time that all your ties will soon unwind. I'll be there to watch you fall, and ensure you end. Them. Aaaaallll."

It had suddenly come back to me, and my eyes widened at the accuracy of the chant. But what does it mean. All this does is confuse me. Is it even relevent whatsoever?

I'm starting to feel like I'm making a bigger deal out of his than I should be. I mean, it's all just in my mind, right?

I groaned, setting my head back on my knees.

"What's wrong with me..."

"Heya, Silver!" A low raspy, but friendly sounding voice in front of me. Right in front of me.

I knew now that this wasn't just me. I wearily looked up, ready to finally see the face of the voice who haunted my dreams.

But no-one was there.

"BOO!"
I screamed and practically flew across the room toward the door, now facing the bathtub. Through wide eyes, I could see the clown from my dreams with the same red fluffy hair, blue bloodshot eyes, yellow based old americana clown attire. All the same. Even the paper thin blood colored smile. And he just stood there, in the bathtub with a smile that read smart-ass all over it. I would've laughed at his smile, because of how adorable it looked. But, only if the situation wasn't so terrifying.

"Did I scare you?" He leaned forward just a bit; same smile and eyes staring at me intently. The look in his eyes read malice, but I didn't bother reading into it, looking around the room in attempt to find an escape plan if needed. And a weapon if absolutely necessary.

He seemed to draw back at my lack of response.

"Aww, why so shy? I only bite........hard." I looked up at him in disbelief. What did he mean?

Panic started to set in as he took his first step out toward me. His almost adorable smiling face had turned into that of a dangerous scowl, as if he was ready to pounce on me like prey at any given moment. It was enough to scare, so much that I'd barely notice the sharp teeth protruding from his gums to replace the dulled ones.

"What the fuck?" I breath, reaching for the door handle.

But it wouldn't budge. I yanked and jerked at the door relentlessly, the clown only drawing closer at each failed attempt to escape. "Grandma!" I screamed, crying at this point. How the fuck were they not awake yet!?

I am young and I am not ready to die. Anger finally set in as turned around, whipping my chest to fuel the impact of my fist on his face in a flurry as I let out a cry full of anxious endorphens. Somehow, one way or another life finds a way. He stumbled back, holding his face, but seemed to quickly gain his bearing. Too quickly to call it normal.

He glared at me, fist clenched in place at his sides before smirking maliciously

"Oh, Silver. You don't know what you've just done." He seemed to growl through clenched teeth with every word, as I winced knowing that I surely haven't done much damage. But I managed to possibly fuck up my future with my impulsive action.

But how? I'm pretty sure that that hit would have knocked an average person out. It sure as hell felt like it, at least.

He inched closer, dangerously. Oh God why a do I have to be put in this situation! I whimpered, desperately trying again to open the door, but of course, to no avail.
"Please, don't!" I begged, cowering against the door. There's nothing I can do now. His head was tilted downward, eyes squinting and staring up at me, retaining the scowl he had before.
His hand raised to grab my throat harshly, and lifted me up from the floor. I gagged and vigourously clawed at his gloved hand constricting my windpipe. The pressure of the blood in my face, started to burn due to lack of oxygen.
I made incoherant sounds, attempting to reason with the psychotic clown, but failing to even speak in general. This though just caused him to laugh at my distress, degrading at my hope of living after this encounter. I was to die now. I could feel my life slipping away, I felt exhausted, worn out. But not the kind where you want sleep. It was so painful, I had just wanted to die already. My lungs burned and ached as my thrashing and clawing began to grow into weak patting at his hand, before ceasing altogether.

I had died.

(A/N: I really do find that smile adorable for some reason. AND NO; the story is not over because she's dead, you'll see.😂)