sometimes the monsters live inside us too.
[summary inside]
it2017 | eddie kaspbrak x oc
i do not own the 'it' franchise. i only take
credibility for my origin...
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' ʀᴇᴅᴇᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs '↙︎ (edited)
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BEFORE SHE MOVED TO DERRY, Verity's life had been simple. Simple yet chaotic in its own way. She didn't have many friends, if any at all, but she had become used to that. Once, it bothered her that she sat alone at lunch. Once, she mused about sitting at those lunch tables cluttered with chatting girls. Once, she would've gone out of her own way to get them to talk to her, and once-once, she would've changed herself to talk to them. But what would it be worth if they would just stare blankly at her as she talked? What would it be worth if they would never truly care about her? She'd still feel alone. Being able to say she had friends wouldn't change the aching loneliness.
So, she learned to get through it. She learned to ignore the few remarks she'd hear about herself. Oh, yeah, she's weird. I feel bad for her. She has no friends. She's a freaky feminist. Why were her classmates so appalled at the fight for equal rights? She felt bad for them. Oh, she really, really did. But she learned to handle being alone. She learned to make her own time by herself entertaining at the very least. She began to sketch, because it was the only thing to keep her from leaping into that wavering noise-the heavy, loud void that ensured her doom.
Her parents never understood. They never understood that it wasn't being timid or shy or anti-social that kept her from having friends. It was those friends that she would've made, who'd drive her mad. She explained that to them, and they appeared baffled. Perhaps her own parents believed she was crazy, too. That was worse. Worse than the looks of strangers and her classmates. Worse than all of it. It was so, so, so much worse that her own parents believed it was her-that she was the issue.
Her brother-he was the troublemaker. He was the one who'd come home late sometimes or the one who sought trouble at school, but he had friends, and he didn't receive strange looks, so Verity-she was the real problem. So, they moved. They moved to a town where Verity's parents hoped she'd make friends. And she had. She made friends, but all of them whom received their own odd titles and frivolous looks from the people of Derry. She'd done what her parents wanted her to, done what she couldn't do back at their previous town, but it still wasn't good enough, because her friends were losers, and it made her an automatic loser, too.
But she loved her friends. She loved each and every one of them. Loved each and every erratic personality. She was the lucky 8. And she'd wear that title with pride and power.
"Can you stop breathing so loud?" She hissed at her brother. He sat next to her on the couch in the living room. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her face scrunched with irritation.
