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i. GRAFFITIED WALLS AND BATHROOM BRAWLS


It's true what they say. When you stare at a clock, waiting for a certain time to come, time just moves even slower. While my classmates were somewhat paying attention to Mrs. Stone, our Algebra teacher as she lectured about the end of the school year. At least– I think that's what she's talking about. I honestly haven't paid a single bit of attention after she stopped talking about math. Leave it to her to still give us a lesson on the last day of school, even when we took our final exam days before. She wasn't the worst math teacher and overall teacher I've had though. My math teacher at my last school had a serious spitting problem, every time he said certain vowels, it was as if everybody in the front row was getting a shower. Mrs. Stone, however, her only problem is that she likes math and lecturing...a lot.

But she was one of my favorite teachers, simply because she was the one who introduced me to one of my good friends, Heather McNulty, on my first day here at Derry Middle School. Which I was, and still am extremely grateful for, seeing as coming to a new school, where kids have practically grown up together isn't really an easy situation. Especially since nobody really wants to get to know the new kid. "Alright, well enough of my lecturing. You guys have a little bit before the bell, so you may now talk among yourselves." She said, tearing my attention away from the clock with her statement. My classmates began to talk a bit loudly amongst themselves as she walked away from her lecturing stand and over to her desk, sitting down and beginning to work on whatever it is she has to do.

As everyone around me began to talk about their summer plans, I twirled one of my loose curls around my finger and looked at the strand of hair. I've been talking to my mom about changing my hair up for the summer, maybe getting some bangs like Farrah Fawcett or D.J. Tanner. She said I could do whatever I wanted with my hair as long as it didn't involve chopping it off, perming it so much it turned into stone– or dying it a crazy color like those girls on MTV.

"So Dani, what are you going to do tonight? Summer starts tonight, I'm sure you know." Heather asked.

I looked at her and raised my eyebrows, letting my hair uncurl from around my finger. "Nothing tonight, why?"

"Well, we were thinking about going to catch a movie around 4:30. Would you want to come with us?" Greta, asked, turning in her desk towards me. "Maybe we could even do a sleepover at my place after?"

My eyes moved to the clock. The bell should ring at any moment. "Yeah, that'd be cool. I'll ask my mom."

Heather smiled. "Okay awesome! Just meet us outside the theatre at 4:00 so we can buy our tickets." The bell rang and the three of us stood up with the rest of the class. "So we'll see you later?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you guys there," I replied, picking up my books from my desk as they left the classroom.

Heather and Greta were the first two people that I met once I moved here. Mrs. Stone introduced Heather and me in the hallway on my first day at school, and sort of assigned her to show me around. Which luckily for me, Heather didn't seem to mind. It turned out that they both live on my street, Heather across the street and about six houses down, and Greta a bit further down the block more towards the town center. I didn't really like Greta, she wasn't really the type of person I usually hang out with. My mom went to high school with her dad back in the mid-sixties and said he was a pretty nice guy. Well, that gene must have gotten lost somewhere because Gretta's got a pretty big attitude and half of the time when she talks to me I can't tell if she seriously hates my guts or if she's being sarcastic. I met her through Heather, they've been best friends since the second grade. I can understand why they've kept their friendship alive for so long, but I don't really see any similarities between the two at all.

Thankfully though, Greta wasn't in our homeroom, though if her last name had started with an "L", she would have been. In homeroom was where I could see the version of Heather when she wasn't around Greta. Which in my honest opinion, was the better version. I was knocked out of my thoughts when someone bumped into me hard, knocking my books out of my arms and onto the floor. "Watch it!" a voice barked.

I looked up from my books and saw non-other than Henry Bowers and his three goons– Patrick, Belch, and Victor. They were your classic bullies in every sense. Always picking on those smaller than them, both in the hallway and class. In my few short months here, I've really only had a couple of experiences with the group. None of them pleasant after the first. I had English with Victor and Belch, whose real name is actually Reginald. Who would have known? Certainly not me. Anyway, they seemed like the quieter two of the group and sometimes just by how they acted in class, I would wonder why they associated with a goon like Henry Bowers. 

"You're supposed to say, 'I'm sorry," I said, as they began to continue to walk by me, my books still lying on the ground.

They came to a stop and Henry turned around with a smirk on his face. "You'll get an apology when you agree on what that proposition I gave you last month, yeah?"

His 'proposition' if you can even call it that, was that I go on a date with him...well, not exactly. His exact words were something along the lines of 'let's hang out down by Bassey park', which is where the kissing bridge is. Basically, it was code for 'let's make-out' but that would never, ever happen. Ever. "Well, I guess I'm not getting my apology then, am I?"

Patrick tapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head in the direction behind them as groups of kids still passed by in the halls. "We'll see about that." Henry laughed, turning back around and walking away with his goons.

I'd be lying if I didn't say that every interaction with him gave me chills. He had this freaky aura about him. It was almost disturbing. I sighed and bent down to pick up my notebooks. I really wish my gym clothes didn't take up as much room as they did in my backpack. I went to pick up my science notebook when someone's shoe connected with it before I could grab it, sending it sliding down the hall.

I stood up and walked to where it had stopped, seeing a boy bending down to pick it up. He stood up and looked up– immediately making eye contact with me. "I-Is this y-y-yours?" He asked, holding it out to me.

I'd seen him around school before. His name was Bill Denbrough. His brother was George, the boy on the missing poster I had found eight months ago when we moved here. Kids talked about him at school a lot, and not good things. Greta especially. She'd always make fun of his stutter, calling him Stuttering Bill, like all the other kids who made fun of him–which I think is a low blow. "Yeah, thank you." I smiled, putting it on top of my other notebooks. When I looked up from them, I saw him start to turn around to leave. "Wait!"

"Y-Y-Yeah?"

"You're Bill...right? Bill Denbrough?"

He buried his hands in his pockets and nodded. "Y-Y-Yes. W-why?"

"I've just seen you around a lot. I'm Danielle Merritt, but everyone calls me Dani. I just moved here in October, over on West Broadway and Witcham." I extended my hand out to him.

His eyes switched between my hand and my eyes. He probably thought I was going to play some kind of cruel trick on him like all of the other kids. I almost pulled my hand away when he took his hand out of his pocket and shook mine. "I-I've seen you around, I l-l-live on Witc-witcham too. It's ni-nice to m-mee-meet you."

"You too," I smiled, as we pulled our hands away. "Maybe I'll see you around this summer then?"

"Yeah, may-maybe."

"Okay awesome," I adjusted my notebooks in my arms and gave him a small wave. "Have a good summer Bill."

"Yo-You to-too D-Da-Dani!" He replied, turning around and walking away.

The crowds in the hallway were starting to thin out, meaning I should probably head out too. But I've been holding my bladder since the moment that seventh period ended, so a quick trip to the bathroom was high on the priority list. The hallways were trashed with the binders, notebooks and loose pieces of paper of kids who just tossed them the moment that that last bell rang. It was hard to believe that this place would be absolutely deserted for three months in such a short couple of minutes. I got to the bathroom to see Greta leaning against a wall that was directly across from a stall, giving Heather a stern look and motioning for her to go faster as she held a trashcan in her hands. "Are you in there by yourself Beaverly? Or do you have half of the guys in school with you, huh slut?" Greta said, staring directly at the stall. "I know you're in there you little shit, I can smell you. No wonder you don't have any friends."

"Well, which is it, Greta? Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind." The voice coming from inside the stall replied.

I stared in awe at the scene going on in front of me. Heather turned off the bathroom sink and was beginning to take the trash bag out of the trashcan. The few other girls whom I recognized as some of Greta's friends from the field hockey team were standing around, snickering. "Greta, what the hell are you doing?"

"Showing this little shit what she really is...nothing but trash." She replied, nodding at Heather who picked up the trash bag and walked into the stall next to the one the voice was sitting inside of.

"Heather no!" I ran to the stall and tried to grab the trash bag out of her hands. "What are you doing?"

"Stay out of it Dani, why are you even sticking up for this slut? All she does is sleep around with the entire school." Greta smirked, nodding again at Heather.

I walked back towards Greta and looked at her. "Because I'm not a huge bitch and take pleasure out of dumping a bag of trash filled with water on someone, unlike you Greta."

I heard water splash against the bathroom floor as Heather tossed the bag into the stall and came out, picking her backpack up from the floor next to the sink. "Well if you're sticking up for the little slut," Greta said, walking away from the wall and towards me. "I guess you're just as much as a loser as she is." She looked at Heather and nodded her head towards the door. "Come on, let's go."

I looked at Heather who caught my eye contact but immediately looked down at the floor, avoiding me. I went to walk towards her but Greta bumped into me, knocking me towards the stalls. "In case you didn't already figure it out, you're uninvited from the sleepover." She gave me a dirty look before walking out of the bathroom door, her teammates...and Heather behind her.

A few seconds later, I heard the stall door unlock and Beverly Marsh walked out, holding her soaked backpack in front of her. "Thanks for trying. I'm Beverly Marsh," she replied. "You look familiar, have we talked before?"

"No, but we have homeroom together. I'm Danielle Merritt. I sit two rows away from you. I just moved here back in October, so I'm not really all that popular in the friend department." I looked at the bathroom door and back at her. "Especially considering the one friend I thought I had just walked out the door."

"Sorry, you got uninvited from your sleepover..." She apologized, putting one strap of her backpack onto her shoulders.

I walked towards the bathroom door and opened it. "I'm not. I wasn't really going to go anyway. Besides, I really don't like Greta. Sorry about your backpack."

She looked at it and shrugged her shoulders as she followed behind me. "It's okay, it's a piece of crap anyway."

We walked out of the bathroom to see a few kids straggling behind and the janitor already getting a head start on picking up the mess that covered the floors. We headed towards the exit of the school, walking out and seeing that some kids were still hanging around out front talking. We walked down the steps and she turned to the left. "Have a good summer," I said, smiling at her as I turned to walk away.

"Hey!" I turned back around to see her still standing there, with a small smile on her face. "You've still got one friend. Have a good summer."

I watched as she walked around the side of the school, disappearing from view. I took my cd player out of my backpack side-pocket and put my headphones into my ears. I pressed play and the sweet tunes from the mix-cd that Benny made before mom and I left began to play. As I made my way home, my eyes were glued to the school sign that had a casual reminder of how the curfew was still being enforced. Ever since we've moved here, at least six kids have gone missing. There's talk of it being some child-kidnapping-rapist. And of course, there are others saying that they probably just ran away. Regardless, kids are still going missing, what feels like every ten minutes. Like other parents, my mom expects me to follow the curfew accordingly. And I do. I don't blame her for being so strict on this curfew either.

I don't think she could handle another loss.

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