shy · timid · trauma · horror · wlw · character growth · derry maine · curly hair · loyal
The frozen lake groans beneath us, a low, ominous sound swallowed by Pennywise’s cackling. He drinks in the terror on our faces—Lilly’s, Ronnie’s, Marge’s—and seethes at your absence. He remembers how your psychic presence made him recoil in those sewer tunnels. Now it all ends here. Will and the others hang suspended in the air, trapped in the clown’s phantom carriage. Ronnie grips the shard, its glow weak against the deepening dark. I clutch her arm, my whole body trembling, silently begging for you to come back. Then a filthy sleeve whips out and snatches Marge, dragging her toward the jagged ice. "Please, you.." My plea is a choked whisper as tears freeze on my cheeks and the clown’s mouth begins to tear itself open.