CHAPTER TWELVE

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CHAPTER 12
ovii.
CONFRONTING YOUR FEARS

CONFRONTING YOUR FEARS

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I WAS NEVER able to erase the horrid memory, or the petrifying scene I was in. I couldn't stop the slight shaking in my hands as I only stared towards the ground. With my eyes glued to the cracks of the ground, little specks of grass seeping through, no other sound was heard except for the pounding hearts in the garage, a bright light beaming through the doors as our breaths heaved in and out.

My hands slowly turned over as I scanned the scrapes and scratches they anguished. Tracing them over with a light touch, all of them suddenly burning with fiery heat as I slowly closed my hands once again.

I already knew that bruises were bound to litter my body. Every muscle in me screamed in agony, soar from the recent events. But as I curled my fist into pain, shaking rapidly, a pair of hands had touched mine, slowly warming them as I met the eyes of Bill.

"Do th-they hurt?" Bill asked, worry hinting his tone as I shrugged my shoulders.

"They could be better," I whispered, a heavy sigh exhaling from behind me.

Eddie had made his way towards Bill's side, scrunching up his face as he began to unzip his fanny pack. "Your cuts can get infected and I wouldn't w-want you going to the ER for something-"

"Thanks, Eddie." I gave him a reassuring smile, slowly opening my hands to reveal the now oozed cuts and bruises. With slight blood trickling from my palms, I could already tell how disgusted or uncomfortable Eddie had felt.

With a shaky sigh, his hands slowly grabbed mine as he got out a small packets of Antiseptic Towelettes. Burning in the process, I watched Eddie's clammy hands lightly dot at each one, disinfecting any bacteria.

"So we can all agree that IT saw us? IT knows where we have been this whole time. IT's always known." Stan's face had been flushed, colorless to where his heart had dropped.

Everyone within the room had experienced something, and it had all scarred the ones here. No doubt I was going to have the image stapled into my mind for long. But I knew that dwelling into the past wasn't going to get me anywhere with killing this fucking clown. My hands stung as Eddie proceeded to clean my hands, peeling away the paper from each bandaid as one by one had attached to my skin.

"We nuh-need to go t-t-to the Neibolt House."

Everyone had now snapped their heads towards Bill, widening their eyes to his request. Go where that dreadful clown lives? I just need to breath for a second. "Bill-"

superstitious,      bill denbrough        Where stories live. Discover now