"The last good time always comes, and when you see the darkness creeping toward you, you hold what was bright and good. You hold for dear life."
⚠️VIOLENCE, GORE, IT SPOILERS, CURSING⚠️
⚠️IT and it's characters belong to Stephen King⚠️
"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win." -Stephen King
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❌ This chapter contains topics relating to and revolving around abuse. ❌
Bill had offered to walk me home after what happened at Ben's, and I gratefully expected. Normally, I probably would have said no, because I don't like being a nuisance, but something felt... Off in my head.
An awfully painful feeling of nostalgia. A suffocating feeling that I'd rather be distracted from.
Bill and I were walking our bikes along the sidewalk. It was late in the day. The sun was setting. I was currently spacing out when I noticed that Bill was looking at me.
"Huh-Hu-Hey, are yuh-yu-you okay?" Bill asked.
I looked up, mildly surprised by the sudden question. "Yes? I think."
"Y-You th-th-thu-think?" Bill pried.
"It's nothing, it's just that I..." I shook my head. "No, I'm okay. I'll tell you later, promise." I flashed him a smile.
Bill held out his pinky finger. "Pr-Promise?" I couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh. I would have never pegged Bill as the type to still make pinky promises.
"Promise, Bill." I clasped my free pinky around Bill's. The setting sun's light shown on his face as he smiled kindly at me, illuminating his eyes. I felt a blush rise on my face and I pulled my pinky away. We soon arrived at my house.
"H-Huh-Here w-we a-are." Bill gestured to my father's house. I nodded.
"Yeah.. Home sweet home." I mumbled dejectedly. How I wished to run to my mom's house, but alas, I knew that wasn't the way the world worked. "Bye, Bill." I offered a slight smile, and waved.
"S-Suh-See you, Marie." He hopped on his bike and rode past me. My eyes followed him until he turned the corner, out of my view.
I entered the dimly lit house. There are seven days in a week. My mom gets me Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. My father gets the rest.
I walked upstairs, being as quiet as possible. But it wasn't quiet enough. A tall figure stood in the archway to the foyer. "Mary, what did we say?" My father's voice was calm, but unstable. "You're tracking mud all over the floors I just cleaned."
"I'm Suh....Sorry, papa..." I mumbled, staring at my feet. I forgot to take my shoes off at the door. I just forgot.
"Sorry, hm? Where have you been all day? It's almost curfew." He interrogated.
