3rd Person

The minute y/n told Henry Bowers to 'do his worst', she knew she was fucked. Whether this was literally or hypothetically, she didn't know yet.

What she did know, was that she wasn't getting out of this unharmed.

Henry's face contorted into a menacing grin, as he came closer to y/n. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was to come.

°°°

Y/n stumbled onto the road, tears staining her cheeks, and bruises scattering up her neck. She was in unspeakable pain.

Her shirt had been torn at the collar, and her stockings were uneven. Even from a distance people could tell what had happened to her.

They could, if anyone in this town cared about what happened to people.

She walked home, feeling ashamed of what had happened to her, even if she knew it wasn't necessarily her fault.

"Henry's a dick."

Y/n whipped her head around, seeing the boys from earlier.

"I'm not sure if you know, but I'm Richie Tozier, that's Bill Denbrough," the glasses-wearing boy pointed at the tall one.

"That's Eddie Kaspbrak," the short one waved, inhaler in hand.

"And that's S-"

"Stanley Uris. It's been a while."

Stan pulled y/n into a quick hug.

"Hey, how do you know Stan?"

Stan looked over at y/n, and she nodded, saying it was okay for Stan to explain.

"Her dad was Jewish. She always came with him to the temple. Until five years ago when he passed away. Her mom won't let her interact with us anymore."

Richie began to think. Y/n was a half-jewish, rumored slut, who had had her fair share of bad run ins with Henry Bowers, and didn't have a wonderful, functioning family.

She was perfect to join their little group.

"Hey, y/n. Wanna come to the barrens with is tomorrow?"

Bill turned to Richie, opening his mouth to protest, when y/n grinned.

"I'd love to. I'll see you at 8am? Here?"

Richie nodded, and Bill, Stan and Eddie all sighed.

"I'll see you later guys."

Y/n turned on her heel, almost bouncing down the street.

Apart from the whole Gretta and Henry debacle, it had been a pretty good day. School was out, she'd reunited with her old friend, and she was going to hang out with a bunch of possible new friends.

Nothing could bring her down.

Until she opened her front door, to see her mom with some guy and a bunch of boxes.

Y/n knew what this meant.

The guy meant that her mom's business as a prostitute was going well, much to y/n's disgust.

And the boxes were new clothes for y/n.

°°°

"Y/n. I've got new clothes for you."

Y/n sighed, rolling over in her bed so she was facing her mom.

Her mom was already digging through the boxes, and y/n could see some very revealing clothes.

"Mom don't you think those are a bit, you know, mature for my age?"

Her mom scowled.

"Y/n, you're a young woman with a body you should show off. Now stand up and try some of these on."

Y/n's mother was a disgusting woman.

All she cared about was being a slut and making her daughter look like a slut too.

And sadly, she was damn good at her job.

Y/n's mom held up a tiny skirt, and a crop top the size of a bra.

"Put it on."

"Of course, mother."