STUTTER CLUB ▸ DENBROUGH

s i x .

bill stopped on his tracks, his eyes growing wide as we both thought about what just happened.

"s-say something el-else." he asked.

i couldn't. a panic attack came and the tears came along, my hands covering my face as i shivered.

"shhh, it-it's okay. you'll b-be f-fine." bill said and held me. i was shaking, trembling.

my body was not okay and i wasn't either. "should we g-go to the nurs-nursery?"

i shook my head, that was not happening.

"n-no, im-i'm fin-fi-fine."

"you're stupidly st-stuttering!" bill screamed.

"it's ju-jus-just p-ps-ptsd! i-i bet i'll be g-great tuh-tomorrow!"

he let go and looked at me in the eyes. i wasn't sure what to think or what to do — ptsd happens all the time. people get confused with words, or have awful nightmares, insomnia, sometimes even hallucinations. i was okay.

"cas, you're no-not f-fine! we're both a stu-stutter—"

"stuttering m-mess."

bill got serious. i caught his thought.

"we'll-we'll do it. the club. we're g-going to cre-create the stutter club. and i'll take you to nursery r-right now."

|-/

this is getting extremely cheesy i'm sorry??? we'll get prepared bc chapter seven brings an awful character in it's most famous form.

does anyone want a balloon?