loser (stenbrough)

Three

my idea was good. it wasn't some elaborate twelve-step plan, but it was good. what made it so good? well, it would save my ass.

i'd text my dad.   

yep. that was it. i was going to text my dad and ask him to stand outside for no specific reason- and if henry bowers and his little hoodlums were around, planning on skinning me alive, well, they'd have to do it another day. i wasn't worrying about excuses for my dad to come out, no, not yet. if my dad thought i was a little weird, that was fine. that was just fine.

me: hey dad

me: can you do me a favor and come outside

the only way this would fail is if he didn't come out, but he wasn't one to nap at 3 pm, so i knew it would work.

now my only obstacle was the distance between here and my front yard.

i made my way closer to david hartwell's backyard, not too sure if he'd appreciate a high schooler hiding in the woods behind his house, but that wasn't important. what was important was that i didn't see bowers. or, even better, bowers didn't see me.

the coast was clear. i pulled my phone back out and checked it- nothing from my dad, but i had something from stanley, and a message from beverly. i knew i didn't have time to respond to either of them, or to sit around and wait for my dad to answer, so i checked behind me once more and walked between david hartwell's house, and the house beside his, to get to the sidewalk.

i chewed my bottom lip, stopping and craning my head to see if henry's gang had infested my street yet. my house looked safe, yet still no father outside, so i stepped onto the sidewalk and started walking home, making the dumb mistake of not looking the other way.

i was choking.

something- well, someone- had grabbed hold of my throat, and i could only come to assume that it was henry himself, if not patrick hockstetter or belch huggins. my arms flew up to start prying and scratching the ever living hell out of whoever's hands had been clenched around my neck as i made an ugly, throaty noise.

"teach you to fuckin' rat on us, you little bitch. stuttering ass bitch. you think you're smart, huh? do ya? fuckin' DO YA!?" henry bowers screamed, his hot breath smelling like something between bile and rotten eggs. he was in front of me, right in front of my face, screaming, while someone choked me from behind.

my mouth hung open as i gasped and struggled for air, were they going to kill me? seriously kill me?

"tell anyone it was us and you'll have another thing comin', big b-b-bill!" henry laughed, starting to celebrate with the rest of his gang. fat, hot tears spilled down my cheeks and down my neck, as henry continued sneering at me.

my legs fell numb from underneath me; the only thing that was still keeping me upright was this guy's hands around my neck. someone had pushed me into the grass, but it was too late.

derry had turned black all of a sudden.