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Hello. I've noticed I'm not getting many likes or follows etc. so if someone could please leave a review telling me how to improve my writing or narrative, that would be brilliant. Thank you, and shoutout to ihavesevereopjd.

31st August, 1985

`Why don't you talk much?'

Beverly had left Eleven and Richie alone together whilst she fetched the `others'. Eleven looked up from her nut bar and shrugged. She took another chomp; when would the constant hunger in her belly go away?

`Mr Clownzo's Nutbars!' Richie suddenly shrieked in a faux Mississippi accent. `Packed with protein, nutrition and that element of FUN!'

`Beep-beep, Richie.'
Eleven smiled down at the bar. She'd discovered her mischievous side since Mike had found her in the forest; it was a nice thing to have.

Both kids jumped when a door slammed.

`Okay, she's really nervous and looks like she's been dragged through greywater, so be nice.'

Beverly's voice floated through the hallway. Richie jumped up, and ran over to an obese boy.

`Haystack!' He called jovially, hi-fiving him. `And Eds, m'boy!'

`Don't call me that,' Eds said grumpily.

`Hello, Haystack and Eds,' Eleven said, trying to remember how to be polite.

`H-Hi,' said a lanky boy with a stutter. `I'm Bill. And those two a-a-aren't really called Haystack and Eds. That's Ben, that's Eh-eddie.' They both raised their hands in greeting.

The introductions carried on. Eleven shook hands with Stan, and Mike Hanlon clapped her shoulders.

When that was done with, the eight kids got themselves a drink, mainly Coke. It took Eleven five minutes to decide she hated it, after the bubbles went up her nose and gave her chronic hiccups that caused her to have a stutter worse than Bill's.

`So,' Beverly asked, setting down her glass. `What's your story, Elliot?' And then she gave Eleven a covert wink.

How could she tell them the story, considering how limited her speech was? Then Eleven had a brainwave.

`Pencil,' she asked, making scribbling movements in the air in case she had the wrong word. `And- and paper! Please.'

`Sure,' Richie said, and pulled some plain paper out of a drawer and a very blunt, yet usable, pencil.

And Eleven drew out the series of events. An image of a boy dissapearing. A picture of the demogorgon hanging over them. A girl with wild, curly hair, a boy with freckles and a boy with glasses. Mike.
The seven kids watched intently.

`Done,' she said eventually, passing over the four sheets she'd scribbled on.

`YOW-za, you've been through the mill-'

`What the hell is that thing?'

But Bill had the strongest reaction. When the papers reached him, he glanced through them, nodding. Then on the third page, his eyes suddenly shot wide open.

`Elliot,' he stammered, stabbing at the page with a finger. `W-Where d-d-did you see this? The tuh-tuh-turtle?'

`In the dark place.'

`Why did the Maturin visit you?'

`H-he said-' Where were her words? `Demogorgon gone, but other monster coming. Tom Riddle and…' Beverly had said it's name. `Pennywise.'

Eddie knocked over his water and started to wheeze. He groped in his pocket and took a breath from an odd little metal device.

`Shut up,' Stan said. `You're lying. Beverly, she's got to be lying.'

Eleven felt a little stab in her gut at the accusation, and the waves of hostility coming off almost every child at the table.

`Not lying,' she said slightly desperately. `Promise. Friends don't lie.'

`Well, guess what, we aren't your friends. Beverly just drags you in off the street, for all we know-'

No one at the table found out what Stan was about to say, because Beverly tipped his chair backwards. He yelped, grabbing onto the sides.

`Elliot is trying to warn us,' she hissed. `Don't screw it all up with denial.'

`Hey, didn't you know denial is a river in Egypt?' Joked Richie, fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

Eleven looked Stan dead in the eye. `Not lying. Pennywise, and Tom Riddle.'

That was what the turtle had told her when she slipped into the dark place, when she and Mike hid inside that classroom. It was probably his fault she'd ended up here, and not where she belonged.

`When's Pennywise coming back?' Beverly asked, righting Stan, who made a noise like an angry chicken.

`I don't know.'

From the other end of the table, Eddie's device clicked as he wheezed in another dose of medicine.