❝ 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪'𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴
𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ❞
or in which verity summers returns to derry after twenty-seven years, and finds that nothing is the same
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vi. memory lane
WALKING THE STREETS OF DERRY ALONE, without the company of her fellow Losers, Verity found, was rather like facing a battle without armour. The support they provided, no matter how small, was a comfort; as though nothing could touch her when they stood united. So, some of that childhood magic still remained, she thought. That whimsical belief that so many children harboured; the concrete certainty that no matter how bad things got, you could always leave the situation as easily as waking from a nightmare. A beautiful blessing and a secret curse - the fatal hubris of youth.
She navigated though the streets, taken aback at how crowded it was. The small town was a hive of activity; the townsfolk preparing for the annual Canal Days Festival in a flurry of brightly-coloured banners and balloons. She stifled a laugh, thinking back to a similar festival from the past. Richie had stolen a tuba from one of the members of the marching band, she recalled; he had grappled with the pissed-off band member as his friends looked on, bemused.
Mike had told them that they had no choice but to split up; just like they had done in the summer of '89, when the Losers club had fallen victim to the horrors of their first encounter with the Neibolt house. Ironically, that part of the summer had been the hardest - Verity had only just found a group to belong to, only to lose them again.
Now, as she wandered the streets as an adult, along those well-worn tracks she had once haunted, she was spellbound by the utter determination they had possessed as kids. They had never been asked to defeat the clown, after all. So what had been their motivation, exactly? That same naivety, driven by innocence, the certainty that good would triumph over evil. After all, if it always happened in the tales and stories of their younger years, why shouldn't it work for them?
She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. What sort of token was she even looking for, anyway? Before the group had parted ways, none of the others had really known where they were meant to go, either. It was only now, as Verity looked up to realise where she was, that she understood.
A decently sized, Victorian-style house stood in front of her, eerily unchanged since the last time she had seen it. Everything about the dwelling was familiar; from the paneled wooden exterior to the cosy front porch where she had sat during her childhood - the former Summers household.
Verity blinked, lips parting slightly. Even in her distracted state, her feet had led her to the place she had grown up in, the place she had called home for so many years of her life. Dazedly, she noticed the For Sale sign on the front lawn, the sight sending a pang through her stomach. Of course, she thought distantly. We moved away when I was in high-school... God, it had killed me to leave, how I-
