"Just By Chance." - Stanley Uris x Reader. (DISCONTINUED)

𝑷𝑬𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑫

You flipped open to the first page.

There were a few photos.

Mainly some of your mother when she seemed younger than she is now.
They were low-quality, but you could tell that it didn't matter to her. One in particular caught your eye.

It was labeled 'happy birthday, R.I.P.' with the picture being of your father and someone you hadn't seen before.

It was a woman.
She had pretty blue eyes and fiery hair that seemed a bit too long to fit in the photo frame. The two of them were smiling wildly, and the woman you didn't know had the brightest. It was warm, and welcoming, and it reminded you of someone.

And then it hit you.
Beverly.
This woman and Beverly had the same smile.

You examined the woman's looks, and realised something.

You had never seen Beverly's mother before.
You had never asked about it.
All this time you assumed she was just at work.
But what if Beverly's mother was the woman in this photo?

What if Beverly's mother was dead?

You looked at a few more photos.
There were a few of just your mother, and there were some without your mother. There were a few with people you remembered, and there were a few with people you didn't know at all.

You continued to flip through the book, skimming through the pages and taking a short look at each photo. They were all similar—the same things over and over again.

And then, about halfway through, you flipped to a page where you saw a familiar face that you recognise immediately.

It was a baby, but you knew which baby it was.
The baby was happy, and smiled at the camera.
The baby was you, and you were happy.

You weren't alone in the photo.
You saw the faint image of your mother holding you as you smiled wildly.
Your father wasn't in that photo.

You continued to look through the album. You saw pictures of you, when you were very tiny - and then you saw pictures of you when you were a bit bigger. You felt happy as you looked at the photos where your grin was bright and lit up the room.

You finally began to reach the end, and on the last page a single photo was present. It was larger than all of the others, and it seemed to have been put there for a big reason. You examined the photo carefully, trying not to leave out any details.

Your mother was in the photo. She was..young. Maybe about 17. She was standing in the middle of what seemed to be a fun fair, with lights and candy and rides all around her.

Someone else was there in the photo.

You didn't really know what it was, but it gave you the creeps.

It was..a clown-like figure. It was at least 7 feet tall and towered over your mother like a giant. The clown wore a standard entertainer outfit with a large collar and flimsy pom-poms on the front of the clothes. The clown had a massive grin on his—it's face, and was looking down at your mother with an almost ravenous glare. It had it's arm around her, and your mother smiled gleefully as the photo was taken.

It was.. abnormal, but-

Crash!

Something hit the ground outside of the room. You sat there for a moment, stiffening, and waiting for another noise.

Nothing.

You stood up carefully, closing the book quietly and tiptoeing your way to the door. You opened it gently and peered out of the room.

Nothing.

You signed in relief, and walked outside. You closed the door behind you—

—and screamed.

A demented form of the clown you had just seen before stood in front of you with wide eyes and a terrifyingly toothy grin.

You jumped backwards, feeling nothing but pure and utter fear. The clown began to slowly creep up towards you, and you fell onto the ground. You looked back at the clown as it's smile widened, teeth baring, and you sat there shaking. You tried to pull yourself upwards and managed to jump up, but your body trembled and it was hard for you to reach your door. You heard a maniacal laugh as you struggled to open your door with shaking hands— and when you finally got out of there, you slammed the door shut and ran for it.

Your body was in a complete state of shock. You felt tears streaming down your face uncontrollably as you ran down the corridor, whimpering with fear. You felt like screaming for help - you felt like running as fast as you could and never stopping. You felt nothing but pure and utter fear in that moment - and when you got down the stairs, you tripped - and fell onto the concrete with a thud. You tried to jump back up, but your body continued to shake - and you struggled to get a glimpse of the staircase.

After waiting a moment, you concluded that nobody had chased you - but still felt the need to run. So, you got up, and began to run as fast as you could down the street.

You ran past the nearby shops, the pharmacy, a few more apartment blocks, and finally, you reached the diner - and tumbled onto the ground as you reached the entrance. You sat up against the wall of the shop panting wildly as your fear slowly but surely began to fade. When everything calmed, you began to sob - and you buried your head in your knees. There were multiple adults that walked past you while you cried, but not once did they stop to help. They just passed by without a word, pretending as if you weren't even there.

So, you continued to cry your eyes out, your thoughts constantly going back to the state of mind where you saw the clown. The image of it's twisted face terrified you, and the sheer thought of going through something like that confused you even more.

When you heard footsteps approach you, you expected another adult to be passing by. But when you heard and "Oh, shit, (Y/n)!" And a soft hand on your arms, you looked up.

But this time, it wasn't Stanley like you'd expected it to be.

It was Richie.