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Richie's POV

Waking up was the worst, my dreams were always better than the reality that I had spent my summer killing a fucking clown. Today was even worse, it was the first day of school.

Which meant I couldn't just sulk around my house and avoid the other losers. It wasn't just me, we were all avoiding each other. We all wanted to forget what had happened that day in the sewers. That whole week in fact.

I think we were all scared that seeing each others pinched faces would mean that it was true, and we had to except the fact that we were inches away from death.

Traumatic events don't always bring you closer to your friends.

But I had to get up now, I couldn't be late for school. So I regretfully tore back my covers and got up.

First task, blindly grasp for glasses. I was legally blind. Another shitty part of waking up was literally only seeing a blur of colors. I had to just hope my waving hand would touch a part of the glasses sitting on my bedside table and not knock them off.

Once my vision was repaired I continued getting ready for school. Usually I rode my bike with my friends to school at 7:15 every morning, but that meant seeing Bill and Stan and Eddie....and I was going to delay that for as long as possible.

So I left at 7.

And I felt scared, so scared. I was alone outside, exposed. I had been alone for the rest of the summer, but I was inside hiding. I was safe. This felt risky.

I swerved whenever I saw even just a flash of red.

Was I being a pussy? Hell yeah. But so the fuck what, no one was watching me anyway. I had no one to be brave for.

The school was practically empty save a few teachers. No one really wanted to go back to school, every other kid my age probably had the best fucking summer ever. I was stuck fighting a killer clown and almost dying.

"Richie,"

I flinched at the voice, it had sounded to much like pennywise. But it was just my English teacher, Mr. Johnson, with his scratchy smoker voice.

"Where are your friends?" he was concerned about me.

I was a loser. The nerd with a ragtag team of friends. We were all losers, and all the teachers were concerned about us at some point. We literally had targets on our backs, easily bullied by dipshits like Henry Bowers. Except now Bowers was arrested for killing his father.

I shrugged, "they'll be here soon probably."

Mr. Johnson smiled at me, like he was trying to comfort me or something. It just came off as creepy to me though, "my door is always open," he assured.

I gave him a tight lipped smile and nod.

"Thanks Mr. Johnson."

Then I sped away from him and found my locker. My palms were clammy from the exchange, I really had been lacking human contact.

I was merely putting my books into my locker when someone walked past me.

It was Bill. Bill fucking Denborough. Stuttering Bill. Bill who lost his brother Georgie to a cannibal clown. The cannibal clown that almost killed my friends and I in the sewers over the summer. The clown that nearly killed Stan and broke Eddie's arm.

Shit.

My breathing was out of control, I was gasping and leaning into my locker. My vision was so blurry it was like I wasn't wearing my glasses. I could hear my heart beating so fast. As fast as it had in the sewers or Bill's garage.

Or in the arcade.

Fuck.

This couldn't be happening to me.

Tears were stinging in my eyes and I tried to deny them passage.

Fuck.

It hurt so bad.

----

Woah..

That was more emotional than I intended...

I have a feeling this book is going to be a lot deeper than my last one...sorry?

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