GHOST - IT [1]

TWENTY FIVE.

Only two days later, the group of eight sat desolately in the woods surrounding Derry, all in a circle. Jaime, Beverly, Bill, Mike, Stan, Ben, and Eddie sat on stray wood logs, while Richie sat on the ground in front of Jaime, his back pressed against the log she sat on. She had her elbows on his shoulders and her arms draped over his front body. The hot, scorching mid-August sun melted into their skin, bringing sweat to everyone's hairline.

Stan hadn't recovered that much mentally, but his face was now bandaged to prevent his wounds from infecting. Richie had a bandaid on his chin, and other than everyone sporting a few purple bruises and some scratches, they were okay. There was this subtle peace that fell upon the group of eight, something that ceased the anxiety in their stomachs and the determination in their veins.

Bowers was reported missing, and his dad turned up dead. According to Jaime's father, he had a large knife wound just below his ear and had bled out in his living room chair. It wasn't assumed that Bowers murdered his father, though the kids all had a sneaking suspicion that he was the culprit. All of them kept their lips sealed about the well house incident, though Jaime had told her brother the moment she got home. Her brother was momentarily very angry, not at her but at the clown, and wanted to see for sure if it was gone. She wouldn't let him go there, but he still assumed his sisters safety was in jeopardy, so he decided to sleep in a sleeping bag on her bedroom floor at night for the next week. That made Jaime feel much more protected, though a part of her knew it was dead. It was gone, only existing as a scarring memory.

"I had a nightmare about it last night," Eddie spoke up, breaking the silence. "It-it was chasing me...and all I kept thinking was 'it's not over, it's not over'."

"But it is." Jaime reassured. "It's gone."

"I a-actually had my f-first real sleep l-last night si-since October. I f-finally felt like I-I had closure." Bill said from next to Jaime, playing with his fingers.

"I think we're safe." Mike looked between all of his friends. "My grandpa said it yesterday. Said Derry feels oddly at peace."

"I agree. For once I'm...not unhappy about living here." Jaime said with a hint of a smile. "And besides, I couldn't imagine life without you guys." She cocked her head and looked down at Richie, who squinted up at her with his face scrunched up.

Ben nodded. "I'm glad I moved here."

"I'm happy about a lot of things," Richie chimed in, "but mainly the fact that a demon clown isn't after our asses anymore."

"Really makes you realize how fragile life is." Beverly mumbled.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Stan spoke up.

Jaime shifted uncomfortably on the log, eyeing Stan guiltily. She still felt repentant for the incident in the sewers, when she made the impulsive decision to help Richie instead of Stan. He told her he didn't blame her, but Jaime wasn't sure how much truth there was to that. She also wasn't sure why she had resorted to Richie, but it was all said and done now. She wasn't going to dwell on the past, especially not now.

"W-what happened to you w-when you..." Bill trailed off, looking at Beverly with a soft, desirable gaze in his eyes. Jaime hadn't see him give anyone that look, ever.

She looked down. "I can only remember parts, but...I thought I was dead. I could see us back in the cistern, but we were much older. Our parents ages."

"W-what were we all doing there?" Bill asked.

"All I remember is how we felt. How scared we were. I don't think I can ever forget that."

Jaime pondered on whether Beverly's experience was a foreshadow to the future, or if it was a mere trick from that clown. The latter seemed far more likely, as it acted as if it would want and desire to keep them on edge. But Jaime wouldn't let her guard down that easily. She would spend the rest of her life thriving and living, not living in fear from a demonic clown. If it was a nod to her adult life, if that thing wasn't really dead, they would kill it. They would, without a doubt, return and destroy it for good.