Camilla Gonzalez hated small towns.

      Whoever said the small towns were cute has obviously never lived in one.

      Especially Derry, Maine.

      Nothing about it was cute. It was just a shitty small town that gave her bad energy.

      Camilla supposed it could be worse. They could be homeless. Even though her mother gambled and drank away their money so they had to move to a much smaller town, it still could be a lot worse. She's only been there for a week, maybe she'll grow used to it.

      But with her look, she wouldn't be surprised if it just got worse.

      Camilla's mother, Adrianna, used to be attentive over her. She remembers that much. Her mother was beautiful and she loved to sing with her and dance with her husband. The almost-teen didn't remember her father that much, but he had been there too. Not as much as her mother, but he was there.

      Until she was seven years old and her father left with some younger blonde woman and never came back.

      Camilla never knew if the woman was blonde or not, but her mother had often swore out at "la puta gringa" who stole her husband away. The young girl couldn't blame Adrianna for reacting this way, but unfortunately, she was never able to stop her mother from finding comfort at the bottom of the bottle and her beauty slowly washed away with the alcohol.

      "...Hey...hey, hija..." her mother slurred as Camilla walked into the room. God, she didn't even recognize her anymore; it was terribly draining and depressing.

      "Seems a little too late to be finishing up another bottle," Camilla mumbled quietly to herself-half hoping that Adrianna wouldn't hear it, half not caring anymore if she heard her pleas or not.

      "What did you just say to me?!" The lump on the couch that sadly was her mother nowadays questioned her, anger evident in her voice-if you could even consider it a voice, it was too slurred due to the drownings of bottle after bottle.

      "...Nothing," Camilla responded. She knew better than to fight with her mother, especially if she was in this state, which happened to be most of the day everyday.

      Adrianna made a slight huffing sound as she slumped back down under the blankets. At least she forgot about it fast enough, or she just didn't seem to care.

      Glancing back over at her mother, Camilla thought back for a moment and saw flashes of the woman Adrianna used to be. Camilla knew better than to hope for that woman to come back someday...she already wasted all her hope on that front.

      "What are you looking at?" Adrianna cut her out of her trance, lazily pointing her bottle towards Camilla.

      She quickly looked away, walking towards the kitchen. "Nada, mama." The young girl responded, grabbing an apple that already had bruises on it but ate it anyway. It was better than most of the rotting food in the fridge anyway. Camilla might need to steal some of her mother's spare money to buy groceries soon.

      The twelve year old girl stayed in the kitchen for a while, finishing her apple before peaking back into the living room.

      The half empty bottle of tequila was dangling from her mother's hand, quiet snores leaving her lips. Camilla was quick to grab it, knowing her mother was a heavy sleeper when she was drunk. She already was a heavy sleeper, more so once her lips were connected to the bottle.

      Camilla took a long sip of the tequila, feeling the liquid burn her throat and her chest, like there was a fire growing outside of her heart. She didn't care though, she was used to the burn of alcohol. It wasn't her first time finish off her mother's "magic juice" and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

      As the twelve year old girl caught a glimpse of her reflection from the window before her, she saw where she would be thirty years from now. Sitting in a chair in front of the tv, a bottle in hand, reminiscing about her glory days.

      Oh god, she was going to end up exactly like her mother, wasn't she? Whether or not she stayed in this shit town.

      The burn in her chest from the alcohol was replaced with rage and she wanted so badly to smash the bottle to bits. But Camilla didn't want to have to clean those shards of glass, so she had to resist. It was painful, but she did.

      The twelve year old looked at the pouring rain from the window above the sink, leaning forward and tapping her fingers to it. She tapped to a melody of a song in her head, a faint smile dancing on her lips. Camilla moved closer, her upper stomach pressing against the sink but she didn't care. She exhaled onto the glass, her breath fogging it up and drew a little smiley face with her pinky. She leaned back, bored again, and turned away from the window.

      She took another big gulp of tequila despite it all, a couple droplets spilling from her lips so she wiped it off with the back of her hand. Camilla had every intention to finish it all. Her mother wouldn't even notice. Just drink it all and relish in whatever peace being buzzed can give her. But for some reason, she felt the urge to stop. To stop and take a walk in the rain.

      She didn't want to do it and was about to take another sip before she paused. Why did she feel like going out in a storm? God, she didn't know. But would it be better than being stuck in her room, reading the books she's already read a handful of times?

      It would.

      So Camilla turned back around and poured the rest of the tequila down the sink. She placed the now empty bottle there and quickly put on her red rain jacket and boots before heading out for the door without looking back.

      God, it was cold outside. Why the hell was she out here again? Only two steps out of her house and she already wanted to go back inside. But that stupid nagging feeling was in the back of her head, wanting her to go further into the damn storm.

      "Maldito cerebro." Camilla cursed her own brain before trudging forward.

      Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her rain jacket, teeth chattering slightly as she continued walking. She must be losing her sanity. That must be the only reason as to why she has the need to walk through the rain. This was such bullshit. Something cool better happen or she'd be pissed.

      Camilla hummed a song under her breath in an attempt to entertain herself, some of her dark brown hair that was sticking out of her jacket now getting soaked with rain. Her nose twitched from the water drops hitting her, teeth beginning to chatter. Just as she was about to consider turning right around and going back home to stay warm, she saw something.

      A small kid wearing a bright yellow rain jacket, kneeling in front of a gutter.

      Weird but...whatever. Not her kid, not her problem.

      But for some reason, she just couldn't turn away.

      Camilla's stomach twisted like she was about to throw up, the hairs on the back of her neck and arms standing up. Why the hell could she not leave?

      And then the boy reached his hand out toward the gutter, like he was trying to grab something.

      As if she had no control over her own body, she called out. "Kid! What are you doing out here in the rain?"

      The little boy, probably couldn't be older than five or six years old, sat upright and moved his hand away, now placing it on his lap. "I'm trying to get my boat back from Mister Penny!"

      The fuck? Okay, Camilla guessed she couldn't judge too much. He's a kid, kids have weird imagination. Even though she wouldn't be caught dead next to a gutter, but kids were different. She still didn't particularly like them though, but she continued walking toward the kid.

      For just a brief moment, the older girl looked at the gutter and froze. A pair of yellow glowing eyes, glaring at her. The feeling to throw up again returned, like her body was rejecting the small amount of alcohol she drank and every ounce of her body screamed at her to run. When she blinked, the eyes were gone and the gutter was pitch black.

      Camilla nearly lost her voice but managed to find it. "It-it's raining pretty bad, kid. You should go back home." She said after pulling her eyes away from the gutter.

      The basically toddler pouted. "But, I lost the boat! Billy's gonna kill me!"

      She sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, kid, it's late and it's pouring. I'm sure Billy won't be upset that you lose it, just as long as you're home."

      "Her!" The boy corrected her loudly. "Lost her!"

      Camilla resisted the urge to give this child even more attitude. She was remembering now that she really wasn't that fond of children. "Fine. Lost her. Whatever." She paused for a moment before stepping forward. "C'mon, twerp. I'm walking you home because I don't trust leaving a three year old alone during a storm."

      "'M not a twerp! And I'm not three years old either! I'm six!" He exclaimed, holding up six fingers as if that was proof.

      "Uh huh. Sure, kid." She said with just a ghost of a tiny smile on her face as she began walking with him, feeling a bit more secure the further they were away from that creepy gutter.

      "I'm Georgie!" The kid-Georgie-said suddenly after a brief moment of silence, flashing her a big smile.

      Her chest felt like it was burning again but not from the alcohol this time. It was a nice feeling of warmth instead.

      "Hola, Georgie. I'm Camilla." She responded, giving him a small smile. Okay, the kid's happiness was just a bit contagious.

      "Your name's pretty! Do you like turtles? I love turtles!" Georgie then began blabbing about all kinds of things that Camilla could barely keep track of. To turtles to boats, to his big brother that must've been the "Billy" he mentioned earlier.

      Jesus, this kid talked a lot.

      "That's my house!" Georgie suddenly said, pointing at the house that was right in front of them.

      Camilla nodded, ruffling the kid's hair and he giggled. "Okay, go on in there and take care of yourself."

      Georgie's eyebrows furrowed together. "You're not coming in?"

      She shook her head. "Nah, I gotta go home. But you should go inside, get warm so you don't get sick. Okay?"

      He huffed before finally nodding. "Fine. Bye bye, Camilla!" Georgie said, smiling as he waved at her.

      She smiled softly, waving back slightly. "Bye, kid." The older girl said as she watched the little boy finally go into the house, opening the door and went inside before waving at her again and closing it.

      Camilla stayed there for a moment before looking out at the empty road. She knew she would need to pass the gutter to get back to her house. She would need to feel, or even see, that god awful thing.

      She took a deep breath and lifted her head up high. She knew what she needed to do.

      And with that, Camilla began walking away, further away from the gutter to walk the long way home.