Chapter Text
Chapter 1
August 24th, 1988
William “Bill” Denbrough 6:30 am
Pat! The rain pelted against Bill’s window with violent speed, at the same time his alarm clock was blaring in his ear. His hand slowly dragged toward the power button of his clock. When his finger tips reached its surface the blaring came to halt. It was August, summer had just ended and it was time to get back to school. School was something Bill loved but hated at the exact same time. He loved to write, but hated his English teacher. As his feet pressed against the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom his mom came through the door; slowly but surely.
“Good Morning honey. I made you some tea, it’s on the table next to your breakfast.”
“Thu-thanks muh-mom,” Bill stuttered. It seemed to have gotten worse whenever something that brought him stress came around. The start of school, meeting someone new, the list was practically endless. He creeped out of bed and opened his closet. It was neat and clean, yet there was still a sense that something was wrong. He picked out a long sleeve shirt, white in the middle with gray sleeves. He took off his space-themed pajama pants and put on a sensible pair of jeans.
“Honey!” his mom called, “Come on you’re gonna be late!”
“Cuh-coming mom!” he yelled in response. He quickly snatched his watch, its leather bands seemingly wrapping themselves around his wrist, it was routine after all. Bill rushed out of his room, sprinted down the stairs and came to a stop at the living room table-or the parlor as his mom liked to call it- and took a quick sip of his tea. He snagged his backpack, swiftly swooping it around his back. He then took a monotone red rain coat off of a hanger. “Bye mom!” Bill screamed. As soon as his mother was able to respond he was out the door. As he stepped down from the porch of his house and into Jackson street the rain ruined his perfectly straight hair. His head cocked to the left, instantly noticing silver. “Yee-haw,” Bill muttered. He rushed toward the bike and started towards Derry middle school, a haven for crack heads and morons. After what seemed like eons, Bill made it to school. There it was in all its glory: Derry Junior High. As he waited for the doors to open he saw Stanley Uris and Eddie Kaspbrak walking towards him. Eddie quickly took out his aspirator and puffed. Kush! Eddie sighed with relief.
“Oh thank god,” he said.
“Don’t you think you use that thing way too much?” Stan inquired.
“Shut it will you!” Eddie responded.
“How's it going, losers!” a voice called. In an instant they boys recognized who it was: Richie trashmouth Toizer. His big thick glasses were covered in rain droplets and his messy brown hair was soaking wet. “Heya Eds,” he called mockingly.
“Don’t call me that! Haven’t I-”
“Oh sorry sorry, Eddie spaghetti,” he laughed. Eddie sighed and gave up this pointless fight. With a loud beeping sound the doors began to open. As the boys walked in they were greeted with a sour smell, like putrid rotting flesh. Eddie seemed to throw up in his mouth. This year they’d be starting the 8th grade, which meant that Bowers was in high school. DING! The bell rang. Stan went to advanced algebra 1, Eddie went to social studies, and Bill and Richie made their way towards the music room. The room was quite colorful, filled with posters that read things like, “embouchure” or “bass clef”. “What the fuck is a bass clef?”
“Richard! There will be absolutely none of your vile speech in my classroom!” a female voice called. It was Mrs. Rodriguez, a plump woman who always wore floral dresses filled to the brim with color.
“Hey Bill, wanna know something?”
“Wuh-what Richie?”
“Embouchure is the kissing position I used on your mom.”
“Shut up.” Bill said, clearly annoyed. Music class always took the longest to go by, but Bill never knew why. Perhaps it was because of Mrs. Rodriguez, maybe she was boring? Eh, he didn’t pay enough attention to care. DING! Again the bell rang. Richie was off to art along with Eddie, Stan went to chemistry, and Bill had speech therapy in the library. As he made his way towards the library he saw a girl with fiery red hair. Beverly?! Bill thought. Slowly as the doors of the library opened, Bill confirmed that it was Beverly Marsh making her way out. She gave him a slight smile as she walked to her next class. DING! The bell! DING! The bell! DING! DING! DING! School is out! Bill rushed out the door. The rain had stopped, in fact the sun was out shining brightly. Slowly, Richie and Eddie came out laughing at something they did last period. After, Stan came out with a text book in hand, looking sensible as always. His raincoat was in another hand so his beautiful short sleeve blue button down was revealed.
“Hey you guys wanna do something?” Eddie suggested with a slight chuckle.
“I’m down,” Richie said.
“Sure, I guess,” Stan replied.
“You guess? C’mon Stanley what's the worst that could happen?”
“Bowers, Richie. Last week he threw me into a garbage can and called me a goddamn christ-killer.”
“That asshole,” Bill said. All of a sudden they could hear the ripping of cardboard. When they turned around they saw the new kid. He was holding a now tattered cardboard model of the Derry standpipe.
“Shit!” he called, “Oh s-sorry!”
“I-it’s fine,” Bill said with a calm tone, “We were gonna guh-go to the Barrens or something if you want to come?”
“Ummm, sure but I’ll have to meet you there. Got some things to clear up.”
“Ok,” Bill responded, “Hey! What’s your nuh-name?”
“Ben, Ben Hanscom,” he said proudly with a smile. With that he walked toward his bike, got on and rode off.
“He’s fresh meat for Bowers,” Richie said, scared.
“Duh-don’t talk like that, if-if Bowers comes then wuh-we’ll protect him.”
“Us?” Stan said, “Are you serious Bill? He’s like 2 feet taller than us, stronger than us-”
“We’ll be fine, Stan,” Bill suggested. This calmed Stan down but only by a little bit.
“So . . . we gonna leave or what?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah luh-let’s go.” Bill responded. The boys all went to their respective bikes and began riding towards the Barrens. Eventually they made it. There was a decently large stream flowing through the middle of the forest like Barrens. Surrounding it were bits and pieces of mud and moss. Around all of that were some trees, still damp from the recent rain. And if you followed the stream you’d reach the sewer drain, which was undoubtedly terrifying. You never knew what was down there. Stan picked up a stone and threw in the water. Eddie was leaning against a tree not wanting to be near the germ infested stream. Richie was on the other side of the same tree carving something into it. Bill was next to Stanley, crouched down throwing rocks in the water. He then checked his watch and gasped.“Crap I gotta go!”
“Geeze Bill, why?” Stan asked.
“ I promised Georgie I’d play with him after school,” he said while swooping his backpack on, “You know how he’ll get whiny if I don’t show,” he said. After he climbed up the hill, hopped on his bike and waved goodbye.
“And then there were 3,” Richie said, still carving into the tree. Suddenly, there were fast footsteps. They grew louder and louder and louder then . . . BAM! A kid was rolling down the grassy hill at record speed. It was the homeschooler, Mike Hanlon. There was blood coming from his cheek and sweat from his forehead.
“RUN!” he yelled as he dashed away through the forest.
“Run why-” Stan started.
“Get back here!” an angry voice yelled. It was Bowers. Once Stan realized it was Bowers chasing after the homeschooler he jumped into a bush. Richie and Eddie tried to hide, but it was too late. There he was, Henry Bowers. He had a badly cut long blonde mohawk and wore a red tank top. He had worn jeans and a pair of brown dirty boots. Behind him were two other boys, Victor Criss and Belch Huggins. Victor had tan skin and a pronounced nose. He wore the newest shoes and had one of those red jock jackets you’d see in the movies. He always wanted to tell people that he had wealth in some way. Belch had a Metallica t-shirt on and a baseball cap. He wore jeans and had a pair of white sneakers. “Well, well, well. What do we have here? The gay, the sissy and the christ-killer,” Bowers laughed. What?! Stanley thought, How the hell did he- instantly he was grabbed out of the bush by Bowers. He put his hand around Stanley's mouth and took out a pocket knife. Stan began to scream, but it was muffled due to Bowers’ hand. Belch went for Eddie, burping in his face and kicking him into the stream. He grabbed Eddie's aspirator and chucked it into the forest. Eddie began to have an asthma attack.
“Get off of him!” Richie called.
“Look! He’s trying to protect his boyfriend!” Criss crowed. He then punched Richie in the face giving him a bloody nose. Now seeing him hopeless, Criss turned to Bowers to help him torment Stanley. Bowers then noticed something on Stan's head. It was a neatly knitted kippah.
“What the fuck is that?”
“It looks like a Frisbee,” Criss cackled. Bowers ripped the kippah off of Stan's head and threw it into the stream.
“Eat dirt urine,” Bowers said as he pushed Stan into the dirt. Belch then turned and put his foot on Stanley’s head, pushing it further into the ground.
“Eat it!!” Belch called. Richie got up, wiped his face with his sleeve and pushed Belch. The push did nothing, in fact Belch didn’t even move.
“Lay off you asshole!” Richie yelled.
“Oh so it’s a threesome now?” Criss laughed, landing another punch on Richie. Richie stumbled back into the stream, falling on Eddie.
“I can’t waste my time with these losers, I’ve got more important things to do,” Bowers sighed. “I’ll be back urine, just you wait. I’ll get you and your fag friends,” Bowers said as he kicked Stanley. The gang then walked off into the forest in search of the homeschooler. Shortly after Ben came riding on his bike appalled.
“Holy good god!” he gasped. He quickly put out his bike stopper and came rushing down the hill. “What the heck happened?”
“Bowers happened,” Richie said close to passing out. Ben turned his head down to Stanley lying on the ground near the river. His once perfect short sleeve button down was riddled with dirt. His clean khakis, now covered in black splotches. His face was covered in dirt and moss as was his curly brown hair.
“Jesus, he’s insane,” Ben stated horrified.
“You think?” Stan said. Pring! Pring! It was Bill on his bike.
“Hey guys! I’m back! You wouldn’t believe wha . . . holy sh-shit,” he said. He put out his bike stopper and came down the hill. “What the hell-”
“Happened? Bowers,” Richie coughed. Bill rushed over to Stanley.
“Holy c-crap a-are you ok?”
“Ok? . . .Do I look ok to you Bill? . . . I’m not ok,” Stan said, beginning to get hysteric. Tears started to stream down his face at lighting speed. “I’m not ok . . . I’m not ok . .” he cried. Eddie, now conscious, pushed Richie off of him. Richie flopped into the stream on the other side. Eddie could barely breathe.
“H-Help . . . . need . . . . in . . ha . . .ler. .” he said, gasping for air. Bill then rushed into the forest. Within an instant he saw Eddie's blue inhaler. He grabbed it and bolted back to Eddie.
“Here you guh-go Eds,” Bill said. Eddie took a puff. Kush!
“Holy crap!” Eddie sighed, “This is gonna be a long year.”