E P H E M E R A L
adjective [ih-fem-er-uhl]

Lasting a very short time; short-lived; transitory.

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Bill dumps two extra t-shirts into his backpack, and an extra pair of pants. He had neatly placed the rest of the items contained inside but as of now, he couldn't care less. They were going to fight an evil, killer clown and packing his luggage in an orderly fashion isn't something that is bothering him.

He steps back and sighs. His hotel room was in an absolute mess. Bill isn't a careless person; he takes decluttering into one of his priorities but again... he's not in the mood. He continued to wonder why.

He zips up the backpack then slips on his shoes, over the socks that keep his feet snuggly warm. He grabs his phone then walks to the room door and steps out.

Bill made his way downstairs, to the main hall where breakfast was being served. He was about to enter but the man at the reception waved at him.

"Mr Denbrough?" He called out and Bill walked over to him, "I have your mail."

Bill furrowed his eyebrows with confusion. He never receives mail, except for bills and fanmail. The man slipped a neat, white envelope towards him on the counter. Bill smiled at him then lifted it up and looked at the front. The envelope had no address or stamp, nothing but a beautiful, cursive text written in a black ball-point pen: Bill Denbrough.

Bill glanced around then looked to the main hall. He saw the rest of the Losers Club members grabbing plates and spoonfuls of breakfast. He frowned then shook his head quickly. Bill climbed up the stairs and entered his room.

He shut the door behind him then took a deep breath, before carefully tearing the envelope open and removing the single, folded sheet of paper. His hands were trembling slightly; he knew exactly who this letter was from. He had a sense of it... plus, he recognised the writing.

And he dreaded reading it.

He breathed out sharply and cleared his throat. Immediately, upon reading the opening, he felt his eyes glisten with pain and tears.

William,

You never used his real name unless if you were feeling sad, emotional or annoyed with him. He hadn't the faintest clue of why he suddenly felt hesitant towards reading the rest of the letter.

I know you don't get that many letters but the thrill of sending a letter to you was something I couldn't ignore. But jokes aside, writing these words hurt... a lot... much more than being terrorized by Pennywise for years could.

Bill smiled softly, continuing to read the rest of the letter.

Did you ever think that we would have a normal life? I always dreamt of one in a bustling city like New York, or a town like Derry. Maybe I would live on a farm, and you would too. We could see each other every other weekend for a barbeque or a picnic, or just tea. But I stopped dreaming twenty-seven years ago... when our lives were ruined. Nothing would be the same anymore.

But I can't do this anymore Bill, I'm serious. I can't stay here. I know we only met a couple of days back and we have so much more to connect over.

So I decided to pack up my things and leave. You've been wondering why I spend so much time in my room right? I can't stand to spend any more time with you all because every extra second leads to becoming harder for me to leave.

I have a family Bill, I have... people around me that I really really care for. And I know there are at least two arguments to that. First, you guys, the Losers Club, are my family too, and I know that Bill. I love all you so very much but my family back home... They mean so much to me and the thought of losing them or the thought of never seeing them again hurts. The second is that I know you all have families of your own. I am no exception but if I can make a final choice for myself, not let the team down or slow you all down, then I might as well remove myself from the group.

So I began packing my things and discussing more and more about Pennywise and this whole shebang, I realised that me leaving won't really fix anything. Now I know you're thinking that these are just random words... but they have a purpose. I thought of another way, the only way that I can be happy but it has a price and it is one that won't be easy for any of you.

Nevertheless, keeping our probable demise aside, I started to think about me and you and us. Bill, I love you. I love you more than anything in the world and I just hope that one day we can be together.

The Ritual of Chüd won't work if I just go away from Derry, back to my life. I'm sure all of you realise it. I didn't want to put any of you at risk. I did what I had to. I wrote this letter to tell you that I'm leaving. Well, actually the fact that you are reading this means that I have already left. Be a good boy and do as I say, Bill?

Don't put this letter down on your table.

Don't rush out of your room to mine.

Don't start banging on the door and yelling. I know how your throat reacts to a little exertion.

Don't call for the management to open the door, with an extra key in one of their drawers.

Don't let the others come up to see what's going on... please.

Don't come storming into my room, out of breath and panicked.

When you see that I'm not there, don't search around for me.

Don't go into the bathroom.

There will be pills scattered across the floor, there may be a pool of water left from the tap running open. Be careful not to slip and fall.

But Bill, please... Don't shed any tears for me when you see me on the floor.

Don't do any of this and I'll rest in peace... knowing that I didn't leave you in any hurt.

I'll see you on the other side, my love.

[y/n/n]

Bill's head started to spin. His knees were about to collapse from the weight of these words on his shoulders. He had a sense of doubt in his mind. The words couldn't possibly be-

Bill put the letter on his table and rushed out of his room. He glanced around the corridor for room 237 and upon finding it ran towards it as if his life depended on it. Maybe he could change things, maybe he could make things better.

The door was locked, causing him to start crying. He started banging his fists against the door, yelling out your name at the top of his lungs. He stepped back and threw himself at the door multiple times, in hopes to break the lock and open the door.

"What's wrong Bill?!" Ben asked as he climbed up the stairs. Bill turned to him, tears streaming down his face.

"G-G-Get the extra room key, p-please!" He pleaded and Ben nodded his head. He rushed downstairs and brought the key, along with one of the security guards. Ben handed Bill the key, who fumbled as he tried to unlock the door.

"Come on, COME ON!" He exclaimed.

The others appeared as well, completely confused and concerned. They wanted to ask questions but before they knew it, Bill stormed into your room.

He couldn't think straight, his mind was in a mess. He refused to believe that whatever the letter said was true... it couldn't end like that.

Bill looked around the room for any sign of you. He shook his head in despair, crying harder when he realised that you were in the bathroom.

Richie came over to Bill and hugged him tightly. Beverly looked at him in pity then walked over to the washroom. She pushed the ajar door open slowly, her hand shaking with nerves.

She gasped in agony when she saw what lay on the bathroom floor. Ben instantly held her in his arms, shutting his eyes so that he wouldn't see the gruesome sight.

Richie let Bill go. Bill walked over to the bathroom slowly, he felt sick to his stomach. He genuinely wanted to throw up.

Bill peered into the bathroom just as Richie looked over his shoulder. Richie immediately gagged then scurried out of the room. Bill glanced over his shoulder then turned back to face the washroom.

He stepped inside and collapsed onto his knees. His tears continued flowing down his cheeks as he gazed upon you lifeless body on the cold and tiled bathroom floor.

He covered his mouth. He felt panic attack rising up within him.

Bill loved you... so much. He couldn't believe that you were gone.

He lifted you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He sobbed loudly while his friends remained outside the bathroom, watching in misery.

"I l-l-love you too [y/n]... I love you," He uttered quietly then kissed your forehead.

Suddenly, he lacked the motivation to care anymore. Was fighting Pennywise worth all this? First Stanley and now... you.