Go Along with IT//Stan Uris fanfic (It 2017)

Church

     Before I left school, I looked at the announcement board:
Remember the Curfew: Be home by 7pm

      That curfew is bullshit. There isn't a pause in kidnapping. What kidnapper goes "it's seven pm. Time to kidnap some kids." It's useless. The police just don't know how to handle the situation, so they think a curfew is the answer. If the curfew did work, Betty wouldn't have disappeared. 

       The police also didn't enforce this rule as much, but they highly recommend that kids are always in a group or with an adult. This rule is kinda looked over, but it is probably the most effective of the two.

       I crossed the street so I was across the school, and I stayed on Jackson street. The giggles of kids disappeared behind me as I walked farther away from the school. The overall walk was probably fifteen minutes. I passed by the baptist church right across the school; I passed a few houses as well. They weren't the nice, big houses that were on West Broadway, but they were still decent looking compared to some houses on the other side of town. A few cars passed by on the road, and on both sidewalks were grownups or kids strolling around. It was really anything interesting.

      The most exciting thing that happened was that I was pulled over by a police car. I was minding my own business when a car just pulled on next to me. I looked over and the officer in the passenger seat rolled down his window and stuck his arm out.

         "Where are you headed to little lady?" I pointed down the road.

         "I'm headed to the church. My mom and dad couldn't pick me up, and I forgot my bike, so I have to walk." The officer nodded and put on his glasses.

          "Alright then. Be safe."

           "Yes officer." But he didn't pull off. He just looked at me.

           "And don't go anywhere that is dangerous. That Ripsom girl was rumored to be down in the barrens when she disappeared..." the mention of Betty made me tense up a bit, and the officer continued.

           "And the first kid, the little Denbrough kid, was last seen alone in the rain. And just the other day we got a call about this kid. Apparently he had ran away from home." I could hear my heart pound in my ears.

           "Yes officer. I'll be safe, I promise". He seemed accomplished scaring the shit out of me. He rolled up his window and I watched as they drove off.

           I happened to recognize both of those names. Little Denbrough was referring to Bill Denbrough's little brother. Betty of course was the one she was closest with.

        I arrived at the church probably five minutes after the police talked to me, my mother was sitting on the steps of the church, fanning herself. I sat up when she saw me.

         "Lucille, where were you? You're late!" She ran up to me an took my bag from me.

          "Sorry mom, but to be able to get here, I have to walk, and unfortunately that takes time. And the police also pulled to over..." my mom's eyes widened.

          "The police? Lucille Yancey? What did you do to make the police pull over?" She had her arms crossed, my backpack straps hanging from one of her forearms.

          "I did nothing. They were just reminding me of the curfew and the missing kids and shit..." my mom's eyes widened even more.

          "Lucille you know how we feel about cursing." I felt my face grow hot. "Get inside. The pianist doesn't have much time today, so you'll have to do what you can.

         "Wait, so I won't have to stay the entire time?" I felt my spirits lift again, only to be brought back down when she shook her head.

        "No, the pianist won't have to stay the entire time. She is going to get you used to the music, then you are going to spend the rest of day, until we go home rehearsing. It has to be perfect."  My mom nudged me into the church. It was rather empty. My dad was off in the side of the church talking to a few guys, and the pianist, a younger woman, was shuffling her sheet music. "Go ahead," my mom whispered in my ear. "Better get used to performing now. The church is filling up more than even ever since the disappearances started. You are going to sing to give them hope and to ease their minds." I nodded and headed over to the paining. The woman, probably just out of college, looked up and smiled.

         "Hello," I waved nervously and she smiled.

          "Hi, I'm Wilma. I didn't realize I'd be working with someone so young." I gave a little giggle and sat down on the bench next to her.

          "I could say the exact same thing." She smiled a turned the sheet music in her binder until it opened to the desired song.
          "Let's get started then."

      By the time I finished the Wilma, my voice already felt raspy. She worked me rather hard, but I was able to learn all the songs. My mom was folding pamphlets for the mass on Sunday, and my dad was talking to the priests. My parents really were church-a-holics.

       Ever since I was little, religion was something I knew a lot about. My parents would tell me to pray every night or else God episode do something bad to me. And I believed it. One night I forgot to pray, and the next day my fish died. That doesn't sound bad, but as a kid that was traumatizing. There was another time that I was invited to go with Betty to the community pool, but I wasn't allowed to because it was Sunday. On Sundays, my parents always trap me inside my house. Sunday was a day you devoted to God. I wasn't allowed to have any time for myself, only to God. Another time, I wasn't allowed to go to a function at the Baptist church across the school because they weren't as devoted. Said it was a way to make me lose faith in bible or something.

       Basically, my parents of church crazy. But I never really minded because I was used to it. I did get annoying sometimes, like how they signed me up to sing at almost every mass over the entire summer without my consent, but I knew better than to argue.

         "Sweetie, I'm not hearing any singing." I snapped out of my thoughts and looked over at the pews to see my mother still folding pamphlets.

          "Sorry, mom. I was just taking a break."
          "We'll break time is over. You sound lovely, and I'd hate for you to lose it because you weren't practicing." I nodded and flipped the sheet music in the binder back to the first song. I then began to sing.

        We got home probably around 5:30, and my mom still had to make dinner. I ran upstairs and empty out all my school stuff. I sorted through things I would need and stuff that could be burned, thrown out, shredded, etc. Then I took off my makeup and my very uncomfortable clothes and got into some shorts and a t-shirt.

        The rest of the night was short. I ate dinner, my parents put on the TV and watched a few films, and I stayed up in my room listening to music. I went to bed that night with a bottle of water in my bedside.