"we're not kids anymore. some things are better better left in the past."
"you're right. but if we leave what happened in the past, we're doomed to repeat it"
{ a bill denbrough story }
[ based off of the 2019 movie "It Chapter Two" ]
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As I walked towards the back exit of the inn, I saw Richie leaving in a hurry. He carried a duffle bag in his hands as he uttered things under his breath.
"Where are you going Richie?" I asked
"Getting the fuck out of here" he answered, continuing to rush to his car.
"Are you serious?" I yelled. "This is a matter of life and death and you're just running away? Think about all the kids that we failed to save."
"That was twenty seven years ago!" Richie protested while putting his bags in his trunk then, slamming it shut. "We were kids! And guess what, we're not kids anymore! Some things are better left in the past."
"You're right" I admitted. "We're not kids anymore. But, you know who never got the chance to grow up? Betty Ripsom, Edward Corcoran, Georgie and countless other children. Who knows how many more will die if we don't end this." I took a deep breath. "If we leave what happened in the past, we're doomed to repeat it. If you leave, then you're a coward and Pennywise wins. But if you stay, we might defeat it and win."
Richie stood there for moment. He hesitated before he finally spoke. "I'm sorry. But, I don't think I can take that chance."
He got into his car and started the engine. "Screw you, you coward!" I yelled as he drove off.
I walked into the inn and headed to my room. Once I was in my room, I slammed my door shut in frustration. Inside my suitcase, was my book The Secret Garden. When I touched the book, a memory came back. But, it didn't happen in Derry. It happened ten years ago in New York.
We had just finished a performance of The Drowsy Chaperone on Broadway. I had just gotten back into my street clothes and was headed to the stage door when I was stopped.
"Hello?" A voice said. I turned around to see a tall man with, dark curly hair holding onto a book.
"Are you here for a backstage tour?" I asked.
"No" the man answered. "I'm actually here to see you."
"Me?"
He nodded. "I'm not sure if you remember me but we grew up together."
I stared at him for a moment, trying my best to regain any memory of him. Vague memories of him started to cross my mind.
"Stan?"
"So you do remember me." He smiled. "I was afraid I'd be too easy to forget."
