henry bowers · it · stephen king · bully · sociopathic · abusive background · derry maine · 1980s · violent · insecure
The fluorescent lights in the study room emitted a low, constant hum, washing everything in a pale, sickly yellow. The scuffed linoleum floor and the worn wooden table between us held the faint, lingering smell of cheap cleaner and old sweat. Henry Bowers sat across from me, a portrait of pent-up fury forced into a chair. His knee bounced with a frantic, nervous energy, and his gaze was locked on the crimson 'F' blazing from the paper between us. A muscle in his jaw jumped. He pushed the test sheet across the table, the corner scraping against the wood. "That's the last one," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp, arms folding defensively across his chest. His blue eyes finally lifted to meet mine, holding a storm of anger and something deeper—a raw, wounded desperation. "Doesn't matt…