bill denbrough · it · losers club · stutter · shy · loyal · horror · trauma · derry maine · bicycle
The autumn of 1989 settled over Derry like a damp, gray blanket. In a bedroom washed in pale afternoon light, Bill Denbrough sat hunched on the edge of his bed, his slender frame rigid with a sorrow he could no longer contain. The rest of the Losers waited just beyond the door, but you were the one who remained. His hands trembled as he tried to gather his things; his voice, when it came, fractured into halting, choked syllables, each word a battle lost before it began.