"I have to go,too," I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper. "My mom's waiting for me." It was only half the truth.
I went around the circle, giving each of my friends a tight hug, saving Ben for last. I tried desperately to keep the tears from...
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•°Corinne's POV°•
We sat in a loose circle in the field by the quarry, the late summer sun warming our skin. The silence between us was different now—not the terrified quiet of before, but something heavier, filled with a shared experience that words could never fully capture. The boys were quiet, but their curious glances at Beverly and me said everything.
"I can only remember parts," Beverly began, her voice soft and distant. "I thought I was dead." She looked over at me, her eyes asking me to confirm the surreal memory. "Well,that's how it felt, anyway," I added, lacing my fingers through Ben's. "We both saw all of us, back in the cistern, together." The images flashed behind my eyes—not as a dream, but as a premonition.
"But we were older," Beverly continued, drawing everyone's attention. "Like our parents' ages."
"W-what were we all doing there?" Bill asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity and concern.
"I just remember how we felt," Beverly said, her gaze dropping to the grass between her feet. "How scared we were. I don't think I can ever forget that."
A somber silence fell over the group. Her words echoed my own feelings perfectly. I laid my head on Ben's shoulder, seeking comfort in his solid presence as we all digested the grim omen.
After a long moment, Bill picked up a shard of glass from the ground. He stood up, and the look on his face—a mix of grim resolution and desperate hope—told me he’d come to a decision.
"Swear it," he said, his voice strong and clear, without a stutter. "S-swear if it isn't dead, if it ever comes back, we'll come back, too."
We all looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between us. The promise was immense, a chain tying us to this town and to each other forever.
Beverly was the first to rise, her face set with determination. Richie followed her lead, then Mike, Stanley, Eddie, Ben, and finally, me. We formed a circle around Bill.
He went first. He pressed the glass into his palm and made a quick, sharp cut. He didn't make a sound, but the pain was clear in his clenched jaw. Richie winced audibly as the glass bit into his own hand. Eddie looked away,squeezing his eyes shut as if not seeing it would make it hurt less. Mike's cut was swift,but I saw him flinch. Stanley's face was a transparent mask of pain. Ben only sucked in a quick breath,a slight pull at his features betraying the sting. I held my hand out,my eyes closing on their own. I felt the sharp, burning slice and the warm trickle of blood down my wrist. A scar for a promise. A forever reminder. Beverly was last.Her face was a calm, stoic mask. She showed no reaction at all.
Bill stood in the center of our circle, his bleeding hand held out. One by one, we joined hands, completing the circle and the pact. Our blood mingled—a promise sealed in pain and friendship.
"I gotta go," Stanley said suddenly, breaking the silence. He looked directly at Bill. "I hate you," he told the Denbrough boy. They stared at each other for a tense second before a laugh broke from both of them—a release of all the built-up fear and tension. It was a laugh of understanding.
"I'll see you later," Stanley said, his voice lighter, as he turned and walked away.
I knew it was my time, too. A decision I’d made alone weighed heavily on my heart. "I have to go,too," I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper. "My mom's waiting for me." It was only half the truth.
I went around the circle, giving each of my friends a tight hug, saving Ben for last. I tried desperately to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes.
"Do you want me to walk with you?" Ben asked, his sweet, concerned face looking down at me.
I only shook my head, forcing a smile that felt like it might break me. "No, I'll be okay," I promised him, my voice trembling.
I pulled him into one last, long hug, memorizing the feel of his arms around me, the smell of his shirt, the steady beat of his heart. I never wanted to let go. But I had to.
Pulling away, I stood on my toes and kissed him, pouring every ounce of my feeling into it. A chorus of playful protests and whistles rose from the others, but I blocked it all out. There was only him.
As I walked away, I didn't look back. I couldn't. If I saw his face, I would never have the strength to leave. The tears I’d been holding back finally fell, streaming down my face in a silent waterfall.
I had chosen to leave without telling anyone the whole truth. But as I walked away from the quarry, from my friends, and from Ben, I knew I wasn't just leaving Derry.
