July 1989

If June was warm, July was piercing hot.

Derry was going through some kind of heatwave, at least it felt like it to us since we were only rating to find some ways to at least cool down. Plenty of trips to the ice cream parlor and going into the theater to see the noon movie seemed to get us by most of the time. Even with the addition to Mike Hanlon in our group, who seemed beyond glad to have new companions on his side.

He was a great kid to hang out and talk to, mostly following us on where we would go in our outings. He lived with his grandfather out on the Hanlon Farm was a bit away from town, but that didn't stop us riding our bike rides out in the earlier evenings. We dodged his grandfather most of the time, according to Mike he was stern on Mike and never wanted him to get involved with the kids of Derry. But we would go by his farm none the less, seeing the animals that would roam free among the tall green grass and the stillness of the area. I would get lost in it from time to time while Mike would show the chicks and baby goats to the group.

"How cute are they!" Beverly said in wonder as she was perching down to pet one of the goats.

"Cute and very friendly…" Eddie said in hesitance as one of them was sniffing at his shorts. He reluctantly was petting the goats head. It was a bit amusing to see, and with the sounds of the goats going around our feet and Mike explaining to Stanley where the horses usually like to run, I was liking to have some alone time. It was a soothing tight, nothing trying to scare me or make us confused, no adult judging us or Henry and his gang tormenting us.

Here, it was peaceful.

When we weren't sneaking around on the Hanlon farm, most days we would hide out in the Barrens under the trees. We even found a spot that was a bit away from the trails and known areas that others would use. In fact, it was a small little thicket that had massive green grass clearing hidden underneath the massive trees.

We all stood there along the edge of the green clearing, seeing that no one touched it as the sun was slowly going down and the evening bugs were slowly starting to chirp. Ben was the first one was stepped into the green clearing, a look of intrigue was on his face as he looked left and right.

"Hey guys," he said to us, sounding light and optimistic, "I have an idea."

"Should we be afraid, Haystack?" Richie asked in a joking manner. The rest of us chuckled as Ben then slowly turned on his foot to face us, an intriguing look was on his face.

"We can build a clubhouse here," He said, the small grin on his face as we were all silent for a moment, thinking about it as he was sounding so sure of the idea. A clubhouse out here in the Barrens? I had a smirk from the notion as the others were looking at each other.

"What here in the bumpfuck of nowhere?" Richie asked in amusement, but Beverly smacked his arm with her hand as she smiled.

"it's not a bad idea," She replied, all of us looking at her now as she was locking eyes with Ben. Ben looked at Beverly like she discovered the atom: praise and adoration written all over his face and within his eyes. She then looked at us as well," Think about it: we can have our own place to hide away from and to hang out that's not in town."

"Plus it'll g-g-get us away f-f-from Henry," Bill said in agreement, Beverly looking over at him now with her sweet smile. Stanley and I were quiet and thinking about it as we were standing next to Mike, who was almost thinking the same thing too. He was looking all over the ground and then walking over a bit to where Ben was. Both Mike and Ben were looking at the opening, and something clicked in MIke's head.

"We can totally do it," Mike said to Ben, both of them sharing a smile, "I have tools that we can use."

"So we're gonna build our very own clubhouse?" I asked, sounding optimistic about it on almost not convinced.

"No, Ben and I will build it, don't worry," Mike reassured me.

"Why can't we help?" Eddie asked, not in a hurtful manner but with curiosity.

"Since you can't hammer shit," Richie muttered.

"Better than you can drill," Beverly reported, Eddie was chuckling in a heap of lighter as we too giggled from her remark. Richie was still amused, though he rolled his eyes at her in almost annoyance.

"If you can't be a proper Trashmouth, then shut your trap," Stanley said agreement, in which I had to snort in laughter from how dry and yet amazing the delivery of his insult was to Richie.

We spent plenty of hours at the community pool, and although I had my almost near-death experience a week or so beforehand, I still wanted to go with the others. I wasn't cleared to do any more intense swimming as I did before, and even when the adults thought it was a pure accident, I was still a bit spooked by it. The others did understand, which made me feel beyond loved when we would go to the pool on a hot Sunday afternoon. The others would swim as I would sit on the side, watching them in amusement.

Stanley liked to on the side of the pool with me and watch most of the time when he wasn't swimming. I thought he was only doing this just to make me feel better about myself, almost sensing my insecurities about being back in the water, but he would tell me something different every time as sitting on the edge of the pool with me.

"I got tired of swimming,"

"I got some water up my nose."

"I can't stand Richie trying to rough house with me,"

Still, it was nice to have him sit with me and we would watch the others play and dunk each other. I still almost felt out of place every once in a while when they would swim from one end of the pool to the other without me, yet I felt a sense of peace knowing that I could see them from where I was.

My wound from the incident left a dent on my head and the bruise was turning light green and yellow intend of purple and blue that it was before. I could finally walk around without the gauze on my face, letting me feel the sense of normalcy once more with my friends. Though, at times, I could tell they were giving me hesitance looks when we would approach the pool or see if I was doing alright where I was.

"Don't worry, Milady! I shall save you from the horrors of the pool!" Richie said to me in his Knight impression while the group was getting their towels sprawled out on the chairs that were close by. It was the 1st day of July, and in true Loser Club fashion, we were going to go to the pool before it got insanely crowded.

"S-S-S-Save her from w-w-what?" Bill asked in amusement as he was taking off his shirt and throwing it on his chair and towel.

"Why the mortal terrors of the pool, Billiam!" Richie said in a triumphant voice, pointing to the couple people in the pool, "Including the massive whales out yonder on the horizon!'

"You're gonna get us kicked out one of these days, Richie," Ben advised him as he was walking over to the edge of the pool to touch it with his foot.

"Eh, not to worry, Haystack. I already got kicked out for being Eddie's Mom's bed last night—" Richie said, but hew as pushed hard into the pool by Eddie just to shut him up. A second later, Richie broke up through the water, spluttering a bit as he then glared at Eddie, or if he could see Eddie.

"Game on, Edwardo!" He said in a low tone. The rest were hopping into the pool, except for Beverly as she was laying out on her chair and placing her sunglasses on, almost like she did at the quarry on the rock. I did the same thing too, Beverly grinning at me as we both watched the boys play around in the pool.

"It's in those moments I'm glad I'm not a boy," She said to me as a comment as we were hearing the boys yelling at each other and horse playing in the water. She turned her head to look over at me, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," She said, having me look back at her and lean up a bit in my own chair.

"What is it?" I asked, seeing her look down briefly. Beverly was always for one not caring too much about others viewed her, not when she was with us and we didn't care. I admired that about her, and since she would try and be more around me than the other boys, I could tell she was trying to be my friend. So for that, I didn't mind her so much.

"Did you ever think of me as…." She stated but trailed off as I looked at her with a cock of my eyebrow.

"As what?" I asked, not getting where she was going. She was hesitant as if it was on the top of her tongue but she was afraid to even say it out loud.

"Slutty?" She asked in a lower tone, almost being embarrassed in saying that word out loud between the both of us. I gave her a shocked look as she was staring at me intently and hard to get my answer. That word didn't seem like something she would say about herself, and I was about o ask her why she would ask me that.

But then again, she had to have heard all the whispers that were going around about her at school, who her dad was, and how poor she was. As confident as she was and cool and calm she seemed on the tousled. I could tell the frackers underneath her exterior.

"I never thought of you like that," I answered, seeing her search my eyes as I pointed at her with my one hand, "I don't think you should think of yourself like that anyways. We don't."

"Really?" She asked, almost unconvinced as I nodded at her.

"Most of the girls who call you that don't know what else to talk about, especially Greta," I explained, seeing her give me a smaller reassuring grin as I even smiled, "And I bet you she was born that way: all talk and no bite."

Beverly chuckled, looking forward one more time as we were once again watching the boys in the pool. I even had to chuckle from how Stanley was splashing back at Bill and Richie as they were trying to gang upon him. He was holding his own ground for brief moments, laughing with the boys as they were splashing him hard.

I think I was lost for one tor two from watching them, and but I then looked back over at Beverly. She was staring at me wit hone of her smirks, those smirks that she knew something that I didn't know. Never the less, she smirked and looked away, having me almost ask her what she was smiling about. Maybe it was the fact that I feel a twinge fo warmth there in my stomach when I saw Stanley laughing with the boys.

That or it could have been when I looked a bit red in the cheeks.

The 4th of July was a big thing for Derry.

There were plenty of decorations in all the shops and stores, a parade was going through downtown Derry and fireworks were going to ensure right at dusk. The town was somehow swept into the celebrations of the 4th, and yet us Losers were thinking fo something else.

More Missing Children's posters.

Another set of posters sprung up around town, one of them, in particular, was giving me the creeps. It was Patrick, the infamous pyromaniac of Henry's gang. The last time I saw him was on the last day of school, right outside the school when I stood up to him and was so close to pushing him to the ground after what he did to Stanley. It was eerie to see his face on one of those posters as Mike and I were standing together and looking at the poster on the telephone pole.

The others were down a bit on the main boulevard near the ice cream store, I chose to hang behind with Mike while he needed to talk to the clerk at the butchers' shop about an order he was going to deliver tomorrow from his farm. Of course, there were glares and looks behind us as I stood with him, citizens were seeing an African American boy with a girl who has one arm. We looked like some kind of circus scene.

"Did you know him?" Mike asked me hesitantly as I was gazing at the poster. I shook my head slowly, feeling a gut feeling in how one of the bulls was one someone who was missing, and maybe at this time, would be lost forever. Not one lost child was found yet, at least to what we know.

"No," I replied simply, squeezing the handlebars on my bikes a bit from seeing his face on the paper. As hard as it was to see new faces on the Missing Child's posters almost every week, seeing Patrick's face on there was just as creepy. I had mixed feelings about it. and even though I didn't want to show it.

Mike and I rode our bikes down to meet the others at the ice cream store, seeing the parade already lining up and getting ready to march. I could see, as we were getting closer, Richie trying to play a baritone from one of the mating band players, but the band member finally pushed him off and walked away.

"What the fuck?" Richie has in a huff as Mike and I parked our bikes on the side of the building and he walked over to me in a huff, "Heya Robin, Heya Mike,"

"Heya, Richie," I replied to him, pointing to the marching band, "You're gonna join? Since when do you play an instrument?"

"I don't play, I blow," he retorted back humorously as we were approaching the others. I could see how the others were looking at another missing poster, one that was taped over Betty Ripsom's poster that seemed old and ancient compared to the new one. They seemed somber, Eddie walking up to too with two ice creams in his hands.

"What are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked when Richie walked and he handed him one of the ice creams.

"What they always talk about," Richie answered for him.

"I actually think it will end," Ben said to Bill, all of us looking over at him now and seeing Beverly cocked her head at him, not following as half of the group was clearly out of the loop with what was spoken and what we walked into.

"So I was going all over my Derry research, and I charted out all of the big events: The Ironworks Explosion of 1908, The Bradley Gang in '35, The Black Spot in '62 and now kids…" He stopped, trailing off a bit and not finishing the moment before he went on, "I realized, that all of this stuff seems to happen every—"

"27 years," Bill finished for him in a sudden tone of realization.

It made me beyond confused and a little terrified at the same time.

"Okay, so let me get this straight, it comes out for like a year and eats kids and then what, just goes into hibernation?" Eddie questioned.

"Maybe it's like…what do you call it…Cicadas. You know, the bugs that come out every 17 years?" Stanley asked.

We were all at one bench in the middle of the park in downtown Derry. After hearing this from Ben, we were dissecting whatever was going on that summer with the so-called clown that half of us has seen so far and trying to figure out how we were the only ones that could somehow see It and know if It's existence.

"My grandfather thinks this town is cursed. He said that all the bad things that happened in this town is because of one thing. An evil thing that feeds off the people in Derry," Mike explained as he was sitting right in the middle of the bench, Beverly and Ben on one side and Stanley on the other on the top part of the bench. Bill, Eddie, Richie and I were in front of the bench and we were all huddle together.

"But it can't be one thing," Stanley answered, "We all saw something different."

"Maybe. Or maybe It knows what scares us most and that's what we see," Mike said to us as we were all quiet, thinking about it and trying to see if what he was saying is true. Eddie then spoke up, sounding a bit uneasy himself.

"I saw a leper. He was like a walking infection," He explained, almost geeing a shallow breath. I could see him itching his way towards his fanny pack on his waist to get his inhaler.

"But you did, none of you did," Stanley said first to Eddie and then to the others. He was being his rational self, maybe not realizing that we were all probably re-hashing within ourselves what we went through. I stayed quiet, yet a part of me wanted to tell him that it was all real, "Because It isn't real. Not Eddie's Leper, or Bill seeing Georgie..or the woman I keep seeing." He trailed off at the lat it, almost sounding shunted when he spoke.

"Is she hot?" Richie asked though we were giving him death glares. Stanley most of all.

"No, Richie! She's not hot!" Her face is all messed up. None of this makes sense, they're like bad dreams."

"Stanley," I said to him calmly as the others were looking at me too, "If what happened to me at the pool was a bad dream, then that's messed up. But this," I paused, pointing to the barely-there bruise and the obvious scar that was evident, "This was real. I know what I saw and what I felt."

"I d-d-don't think Stanley is calling y-y-y-you a liar, Robin," Bill tried to reason with me, seeing how uneasy I looked as we were the seeing Mike talk again.

"I don't think so, Stanley. I know the difference between an and dream and real life, okay?" He said, his voice getting a bit more uneven as Eddie looked at him in worry.

"What did you see? You saw something?" Eddie questioned.

"Yes. Do you guys know that burnt down house on Harris Avenue? I was inside when it burned down. Before I was rescued, my mom and dad were trapped in the next room over from me. They were pushing and pounding on the door, trying to get to me. But it was too hot. when the firefighters found them…the skin on her hands melted to the bone," He slammed his eyes shut for a brief moment and we said nothing, but I knew we were all feeling the same feeling of grief and sadness for him. We never really knew what happened with his parents, and how he was telling us, yet we were still getting to know him, it was eerie and almost unsettling.

"We're all afraid of something," Mike ended, sounding true to what he was stating.

"You got that right," Richie said in agreement. No longer in his breezy easy state, but more in an uneasy nature. I looked to see him turn his head slightly behind us at the open amphitheater, seeing some of the spectators that were getting ready for the parade. One including a clown that was holding balloons.

"Why Rich? What are you afraid of?" I asked him carefully as he looked back at me briefly as he rearranged his glasses with his fingers. One work was said, and I saw how it almost made him want to vomit.

"Clowns."

Present Day

The Art Community Center seemed deserted, which made sense since everyone else was getting ready for the celebration in town. But I felt a little nostalgic standing in front of the small building. it looked exactly the same since I left, no remodeling or upkeep happened at all. It was a square building that only had a few rooms and an outside community garden attached to the back. Even the lettering on the marquee was the same with the upcoming dates and events being held.

I walked through the front doors, seeing the entryway that was littered with new and old art pieces along the walls and display cases. It was very much the same as it was when I was a little girl, skipping through the halls to find my dad finishing a class.

Speaking of which, I walked down the main hallway a bit, the door leading inside the main classroom that my dad would teach in was a dutch door and the top was already opened up. Poking my head inside, I saw the medium-sized room, one side was filled with scattered stools in front of easels, and on the other side a slightly bigger easel and stool. The walls were white and on the far wall there were massive windows that were floor to ceiling to look out in the community garden and the park that was right behind the art community center.

Carefully I opened the bottom half of the door and walked into the room, looking around at some of the art pieces were perched on the countertops that had the sinks and potter tools. Some of them, of course, were pretty mediocre and somewhat okay to look at, but it was still nice to see. I walked around the outer part of the room and looked at each easel and where the paints were stored.

It was weird coming back here as an adult, everyone seemed massively bigger when I was younger and seeing my dad at work. But now being the adult, it seemed smaller, and yet the same to me. There was one canvas that was left in the room on the teacher's easel, having me look in intrigue as I walked over to see if there was something on the top of the canvas.

Once I turned to see the front, I saw what seemed to be a scene of a park. Green grass along the bottom, what seems to be a bench along a dirt path and blue sky with puffy clouds dancing across it. It was a nice picture, bright colors along with the brush strokes and good detail within the blades of grass.

But it almost squeaked on one corner of the room, out from my line of vision. I paused, thinking that I was the only one there in the room. For one it was so soft that I really heard it, and yet it was so distinct and pristine in the sound that it made me freeze up.

The squeaking of a balloon.

I slowly moved my head away from where it was in front of the canvas, thinking that there was going to be some kind of trap waiting for me, and with all that happened within the last whole day I was here, I wasn't going to be surprised anywho. But I was on pins and needles, ever since the incident at the restaurant, even getting the phone call from Mike when I was back in Georgia. Things were fragile in my head now, not knowing what is real and what is not real. It once again made me think of Stanley and his logical way of thinking. Ever since I saw him in the host pail and came back here to Derry for the both of us, I would only try to think like Stanley. What would Stanley do?

There was one single red balloon in the middle of the art class, right smack dab in the middle of the open space with nothing around it. It was floating right in the middle of the room, nothing touching it or holding it down to the ground, but it was bobbing up and down like it was buey in the ocean. I didn't want to move, but I could have sworn I felt a sudden chill going through me. It reminded me of the balloons in the pool, a vibrant red that reminded me of blood.

Lots of blood.

Slowly the balloon was twisting and rotating in the air, having me see something written on the side of the balloon in jagged black writing. I slowly, without even thinking about it, walked over to the balloon, every step felt likely feet were filled with lead. I was trying to make some kind of mantra in my head to keep myself in reality.

"This isn't real….this isn't real…." I was saying it to myself, over and over as I was getting closer and closer. If only the others were here if only Stanley was here. If only this wasn't real. But as the balloon was turning more and more, I could see more of the writing that was etched on the surface, almost like it was written in pen.

Finally, as I was right in front of the ballon, the writing was shown in front of me and I wasn't able to breathe properly. In jagged back writing, I saw:

Welcome Home Robin

As soon as I saw it, the balloon popped right in front of my face. It was just like when I was a kid: the sound of the balloons that were out in the pool. But this one was so close that I once again had to slam my eyes shut. But once the pop happened, I felt wetness all over my face like I was doused in water. I was shocked, opening my eyes slowly and reaching up carefully yo touch my face. I pulled away, seeing that it was blood.

My face was covered in blood.

I was starting to hyperventilate since this was now messing with my head even more. This had to be real, I heard the blast and I felt the wind from the pop, and the blood hitting my face all over making me feel soaked. I didn't know what to do, right up until I saw someone at the door into the classroom poking their head in and looking downright confused.

"I heard some noise in here," She said, having me look at her in shock since she looked so calm, "Everything okay?"

At first I wanted to yell at her that I was covered in blood. But I then remembered, this happened before. In Beverly's bathroom with her father all those years ago and in the restaurant with the hostess last night. For some reason this was a normal reality, us seeing something horrific to us and yet everyone else can't see It. It occurred to me that it was It, the clown Itself was trying to make me look crazy in front of the rest of Derry. It was trying to have others turn a blind eye, and I slowly shook my head and placed my hand down at my side.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you," I said to her as calm as I could, though I sounded shaky and a bit emotional. Right then I walked quickly right out of the room, past the woman who was giving me an odd look and sped down the hall without looking back twice. I even looked past a display case at my reflection, seeing the splatter of blood on my face and neck as I passed. It was getting to be a bit much as I was still on the hunt for my token. Maybe the clown was trying to not have me find my token, trying to stop me in my tracks and get me afraid again.

Once I made it outside and I shook myself off a bit, almost as if it would help, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes again. I had to get back into the right frame of mind in how I was going to keep going and not go crazy. It wasn't real…. It wasn't real….

As soon as I felt like I was somewhat back to normal with my state of mind, I had to reach up on my face to see if it was still there. But I felt dry skin, nothing red or wet against my cheeks or on my chin. It felt like I was back to normal, having em quickly grab my phone and hold it right in front of my face to see my reflection.

No blood.

I was shocked, but not as shock s I was a second later when I saw a Caller ID pop up on my phone and I answered it with a questioning look.

"Richie?"