The Derry Curse | Bill Denbrough x OC

Summer of '89

Echoing throughout the building, a school bell signalled the start of summer vacation. Students rushed out of their classrooms, meeting up with friends and emptying their lockers. Four students, in particular, walked in a line together, discussing one of their other friends, currently missing.

"So, there's this church full of Jews, right?, And Stan has to take this super Jewy test." A brunette boy, the shortest of the group said. He wore a salmon polo, beige khaki shorts and a black fanny pack around his waist.

"But how's it work?" Another much taller boy asked, grinning. This boy was the tallest in the group, with short brown hair, a plain white t-shirt with green, ¾ length sleeves and light denim jeans.

The first boy shuddered, "They slice the tip of his dick off."

"But then Stan will have nothing left!" Cried the third and final boy. He too, had brown hair, a little longer and slightly wavy, thick-rimmed, coke bottle glasses, a brown shirt with colourful stripes across the middle and similar jeans to his friend.

"Yeah, I'm gonna call bullshit on that Eds'. If that was true, no man would ever be Jewish." The only girl laughed, earning murmurs of agreement from the three boys. She had long brown hair and full bangs that covered her forehead, dressed in floral white jeans and a lilac t-shirt.

"Wait up, you guys!" A new voice shouted. Another tall boy slipped in between the shortest and tallest boys in the group. He had sandy blonde, curly hair and wore a pale blue button-up and beige pants.

"Hey Stan, what happens at the Bar Mitzvah, anyways? Ed says they slice the tip of your d-d-dick off." asked the tallest boy, struggling to keep a straight face.

Adjusting his glasses, the other boy grinned, "Yeah, and I think the Rabbi's gonna pull down your pants, turn to the crowd and say, 'Where's the beef?'"

Simply rolling his eyes, the blonde boy, Stan, calmly spoke, "At the Bar Mitzvah, I read from the Torah, and then I make a speech, and suddenly, I become a man."

"I can think of funner ways to become a man."

"More fun, you mean." the girl corrected her trash-mouthed friend.

"Oh, shit."

Leaning up against some lockers, a group of four older boys glared at passing students. They were notorious around Derry; school bullies and future convicts. Patrick Hockstetter, a tall, lanky boy with long dark hair and considered the most unhinged of the group, grinned and licked his lips as the five friends walked past.

"Think they'll sign my yearbook? 'Dear Richie, sorry for taking a hot, steaming dump in your backpack last March. Have a good summer."

Outside, students flooded the area, some talking with friends, others heading straight home, the town's curfew looming over them.

Standing by some trashcans, the group of 5 gleefully emptied their backpacks, cementing the start of summer vacation.

"Best feeling ever."

"Yeah? Try tickling your pickle for the first time." Richie grinned, nudging his curly-haired friend.

Ignoring the trash-mouth, Eddie pulled on his backpack, "Hey, what do you guys wanna do tomorrow?"

"I start my training," Richie answered, shrugging on his backpack as well.

"What training?"

"Streetfighter."

"Is that how you wanna spend your summer? Inside of an arcade?"

"Bests spending it inside your mother, oooh," the trashmouth raised his hand hoping for a high-five only to have it shoved down by his female friend, "What if we go to the Quarry?"

Murmurs of agreement followed her words but the idea was quickly shot down by a stuttering voice, "Guys, we have the B-b-barrens."

"Right."

Looking off to the side, a frantic woman standing by some officers caught the smallest boy's attention, "Betty Ripsom's mom."

The other four followed his line of sight, "Is she really expecting to see her come out of that school?" Stan asked.

The girl shrugged, "I don't know. As if Betty Ripsom's been hiding in Home Ec. for the last few weeks."

"You think they'll actually find her?"

"Sure. In a ditch, all decomposed, covered in worms and maggots, smelling like Eddie's mom's underwear."

Said-boy groaned, shivering slightly, "Shut up, that's fricking disgusting."

"She's not dead. She's m-m-missing."

"Sorry, Bill. She's missing."

Readjusting their backpacks, the 5 moved away from the trashcans, planning to collect their bikes, completely missing the school bullies coming up behind them.

"You know the Barrens aren't that bad. Who doesn't love splashing about in shitty water?" Richie jested before one of the newcomers grabbed his backpack, pulling him backward into Stan, knocking them over like bowling pins.

Kneeling by the blonde, Patrick grinned, picking up Stan's Kippah. "Nice frisbee flamer." He cackled before standing and throwing the cloth into a passing bus window. "Fucking losers."

Sending a quick slap to the girl's butt and snickering at her yelp, Patrick rejoined his friends.

Another boy shoulder-checked Bill, muttering a quick, "Losers." under his breath, and finally, the stuttering brunette snapped.

"You s-s-suck, Bowers!"

Silence followed as the group of bullies stopped, turning to face the boy.

"You su su su say something, Bu Bu Bu Billy?" Bowers mocked, grinning with his friends as he took threatening steps towards Bill, stopping toe to toe with him.

"You got a free ride this year 'cause of your little brother. Rides over Denbrough."

A crackling in the distance led Bowers to look up past Bill, making eye contact with one of the officers by Mrs Ripsom. He shifted uncomfortably before glaring down at the boy again.

"This summer's gonna be a hurt train for you and your faggot friends." he sneered before licking his palm and smearing it down the brunette's face before walking off toward a blue Trans AM, driving away.

"I wish he'd go missing." Richie sighed, still dusting off his pants.

"He's probably the one doing it," Eddie replied sarcastically, glaring at the retreating vehicle.

Grabbing their bikes and splitting up, the group of 5 went their separate ways home, Bill and Eva being the last to part, living on the same street.

"Bye, Bill."

"See you t-t-tomorrow, Eva."

Dropping her bike in the driveway, the brunette pulled out her keys, unlocked the door and was met with silence. Carelessly throwing her keys on the kitchen counter, a note pinned to the fridge caught her attention.

'Nicole, there are leftovers in the fridge and money on the counter. I'll be working late again tonight, so don't wait up. - Love Mom'

Sighing, Nicole threw the note away, "Typical."