I try my best to stay calm, but it's a losing battle.
As soon as the show is over I find a perfect time to escape. Quietly but quickly I rush back to the make up room I started in. As soon as I'm out of sight I begin tearing at the costume. Pulling it off as fast as I can. My breathing has become ragged from the effort and anxiety coming in at waves.
The shirt catches on my head, pulling at the wig harshly causing me to nearly yelp in pain before it comes free. Breathing deep the fresh air of freedom I notice something in my peripheral vision, turning towards it I can't stop the scream and sudden reflex as I lash out and punch the form in front of me.
All I see is white and red face paint before I hear a shattering crunch lead by a sharp pain in the hand I just sent flying. Another, less frightened and now more pained, scream leaves my lips as I pull my fist back and away from where it landed.
I see first that what I'm looking at is no longer single but multiple now. Shattered images stare back at me as I slowly begin to realizes my own image is staring back at me. In my hurry I had forgotten I was wearing red and white makeup , now smeared from my fight to get free of the offending clothing.
I let out a long relieved sigh before hissing from the growing ache to a sharp pain in my hand. With a look down at it I can see blood pooling where small shards have found their home in my skin. I feel light headed as I'm sure all color has drained from me. With no wish to stick around and continue to let myself be the only one noticing my sanity slipping away, I hurriedly wrap my hand in a spare towel before rushing to dress and leave.
Trying hard not to get blood on my clothing g as I dress quickly. As I make to open the door to run, it opens, causing me to jump.
The manager from earlier enters holding a plate with a slice of red velvet birthday cake upon it.
"Hey Bobby, the girl wanted me to make sure you got a slice."
He looks at me perplexed as I take the plate with my free hand, warbling from my shaken nerves.
"Your not looking to good. Why don't you take the rest of the day off. You did good kid." He slaps me on a he shoulder before leaving. I just stand there a moment, staring after him as my mind takes its time to catch up.
"... BOBBY!"
I don't even really remember leaving after that. I hear someone shouting up at me, straight ahead. I blink slowly and looking around as I notice I'm no longer in the tv station, in fact I'm almost to the police station. I'm standing in the middle of the street, the plate of cake still held in one hand, the other still wrapped but now soaked through and dripping blood.
"Bobby...?"
My head snaps forward towards the voice of concern and now as I focus I see who is talking. Bill Denbrough is standing beside his bike gripping the hands tightly as he stares at me with great concern if not the beginnings of fear.
I blink slowly before my mouth bobs like a fish breathing but finding no air on dry land.
"Bobby...you're crying... and you're bleeding. Are you okay?"
All I can manage is to close my mouth and shake my head slowly. I must look a mess and feel all the worse.
"Let's get you to Miss Linda."
I nod silently and follow beside him as he turns and continues the walk with me to the police station.
"I saw the show...I rushed out after to find you. I was worried after I saw the look you had on your face every time things grew quiet."
I nod acknowledging the horror that was running through my mind in those quiet moments.
"Then I saw you just waking in the street and you didn't stop. Not even after I said hi. Took a while to get you back. You where really out of it..."
I can tell Bill is looking for a way to ask and answer before he can struggle any further.
"Yes...H..He was...th...there..."
Bill doesn't look surprised, instead deep in thought at my words.
"I thought so...the kids kept calling you Pennywise."
His voice is quiet with deep concern laced through out it.
I nearly get sick right then and there. But instead we both just stop, Bill letting me catch my breath.
"I don't think it's a guess anymore that he's hiding away in you... every movement and sound...it was him but not at the same time."
I breath heavily, looking towards him in need to hear an explanation. Bill is quiet a moment longer, but not a moment do I sense fear.
Bill is calm as he stands there beside me, staring ahead before he speaks again.
"There was no hate in you... that's how I knew it wasn't really him in control. That it was you still." He turns to look at me, still quiet calm.
"I don't think any of the others say it. Any of my friends. They would have been at my house before the show was over." He sighed before looking at the ground, finding a rock to stare at.
"I'm not going to tell them for now. Fear will only make it worse. IT feeds off that and grows stronger. I know that you're not IT and I can trust you. You're in just as much deep shit as the rest of us now."
I can't help the chuckle that leaves me, I nod as he looks up at me, and I smile sadly.
"That's a good way of putting it Bill."
He smiles at me, a genuine meaningful, caring smile. He's very much like Linda, I see that now. He cares and wants to help me and not damn me for what is happening that I have no power over.
"We should get that paint off your face before any of the guys see you though. It's way too spot on looking like IT's makeup now. Even that smeared."
I reach up to touch at my face as if that would tell me what I look like now. The image from before flashing to mind and reminding me why I'd ended up injured in the first place.
"Sort I'd found that out the hard way."
I blush waving my hand as I pull it from my face.
Bill looks worried but nods, "how exactly...?"
"Saw... m..my own re...reflection while in a hur...hurry to bolt. Turns out mirr...mirors don't go down without a f..fight."
I smirk at making fun of it now.
"I can see that. I'll make sure not to pick a fight of my own with one."
Bill grins as we jokes back. We both start walking again, reaching the police station at a leisurely pace.
