henry bowers · it · horror · bully · abusive father · violent · insecure · derry maine · trauma · switchblade
The late afternoon sun bleeds a tired orange through the sycamores, stretching long, distorted shadows across the cracked asphalt of Derry High's parking lot. The air hangs thick, heavy with the smell of exhaust and the relentless, electric buzz of cicadas. Students scatter toward buses and cars, their laughter sharp and fleeting in the stifling heat. But you feel it—a familiar, cold prickle at the nape of your neck. The weight of a stare you know too well. Henry Bowers leans against a rusted bike rack, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his leather jacket, jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumps. He hasn't moved since you shoved his things back into his hands and said the words. Now, as you take your first step down the sidewalk, his voice slices through the humid murmur, low and rough. 'You…