The Losers Club ~completed~

Chapter 2- The Standpipe

"So umm... what do you want to show me?" You ask watching Stan pace back and forth in front of the birdbath. "It was right here." He says in practically a whisper. "What was right here?" You ask, concern bubbling inside of you like food poisoning. "Y/n It!" Stan yells at you, his face flushed an angry maroon color. Your head starts to spin as the memories come flooding back. Your vision goes blurry as you stumble backwards trying to find the bench. "Y/n! Y/N!" Stan voice fades as you go into the blackness.

FLASHBACK- DERRY, MAINE 1956

You walk into your simple bedroom, placing your school bags on your desk. Finally schools out. This is years before you went to school with Beverly and the Losers but not years before you met them, this was 5th grade when you went to private school, John Paul Elementary 1st-8th in Bangor Maine.

"Mom? Can I go to the quarry with y/n?" You hear your sister, Gretchen, plead in the kitchen down the hall. "Honey, I'm not sure. Go ask your father I believe he's in the parlor." Your mom replies. Gretchen wanders down the hall past your open bedroom door. "Hey!" You say walking over to her. "I can get dad to let us go." You say winking.

Gretchen and you walk into the living room where your dad sits reading the news and smoking a cigar. "When did you get back?" He asks you as you walk over to him. "About 10 minutes ago..." you reply guiltily. "And you didn't give your good ole dad a kiss?" He asks faking a tear. "Oh boohoo..." He says as you bend down and give him a kiss on the cheek, the smoky smell overpowering his sweet colngue. "Hey, daddy?" Gretchen asks on cue. "Yes baby?" He replies watching her shift her weight from one foot to the other, her hands crossed sweetly across her middle. "Can me and y/n go swimming today?" She asks sugar coating her words as only a 5 year old could do. "Of course sugar plum. Be safe." He says looking at you.

You shuffle through your clothing looking for your modest one piece swimsuit, your favorite one. "Y/n?" You hear a voice ask. "Yes mom?" You call over your shoulder. "Listen. After that Denbrough kid got killed and Betty Ripsom went missing, I need you to keep a very close eye on Gretchen. Don't let her out of your sight. Also be home before 7:00 ok?" "Ok mom." You say rolling your eyes does she not trust me?

"You ready?" You say as you plop Gretchen into the basket on the front of your old bike. "Yup!" She replies cheerfully as you begin peddling, a little harder with the added weight but eventually you guys get moving. You bike down to the quarry, no one else was there, and take of your oversized t-shirt (it was your dads). "Let's go!" You yell stepping into the chilled water. Gretchen walks in after you, splashing underwater quickly after. She pops back up and splashes you in the face.

You splash around of what seemed like 2 minutes, when you realize it's almost 6:30. "Oh! Gretchen we gotta go!" You say walking over to the edge of the water. "Oh, cmon! Can't we at least have a competition?" You're very competitive so that sounds like music to your ears. "What kind of competition?" "How long we can hold our breath! I'll count to three and we'll go under. Whoever comes up first, loses!" You nod your head as Gretchen begins to count. "One," you bend down to get ready, "two," You close your eyes, "three!" You take a huge breath and go under. You grasp at some blades of lake plant as an attempt to stay under. You try to stop moving as to not use as much oxygen when your grip slips and you bob to the top, gasping for air.

You don't even bother to open your eyes, trying to wipe the water away from your lids. "Dang it, Gretchen you won." You say defeatedly. No response. No noise at all, besides annoying crickets in the distance. "Gretchen?" You say shakily, afraid to open your eyes. Maybe you think if I don't open my eyes, she won't be gone. As if doing a simple thing like that is too final, too permanent.

You panically whip your head around, looking at the edges of the woods for a sign of the giggling kindergartener. "GRETCHEN!?" You scream as you splash through the water, suddenly stepping on something odd feeling. You look down and see the decorative flower that adorned her swimsuit. You let out a hitching sob as you run to the edge of the water. "GRETCHEN QUIT JOKING AROUND! GRETCHEN!" You screech into the falling darkness. That's how you met It.