Chapter Nineteen:
"I'll See You Soon."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Bill

After it happened, Bill's stutter got worse. He stopped sleeping, his grades dropped, he stopped eating, he stopped enjoying life.

He hardly ever smiled anymore, and if he did, it never reached his eyes.

His days blended together now. Life became dull.. almost meaningless without her. He laid in bed day after day, clutching a picture he had of her. The only picture he had of her.

He remembered the day perfectly. He missed those days. The simpler ones.. the warmer ones. The innocent ones. The days he'd spend hours gazing at her as she spoke so gracefully.

He remembered the look on her face as the clown mercilessly stabbed It's claw through her stomach. He remembered the fear in her eyes as he rested her against the wall. He remembered the first, and last, 'I love you' he'd ever hear from her.

Bill remembered how her voice trembled as she spoke those final words.

Bill wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on the leather jacket, it was the last thing he had of her. It was the last thing she'd touched, too. He knew he'd treasure that for the rest of his life.

Bill talked to her every day, just hoping she'd be able to hear him from up above.

Heather Scott truly did change his life and he was never the same after her death. Bill regretted dragging her into that mess every day of his life.

Bill missed her utterly, completely, tragically. And as the earth froze from the bitterly cold winter months, as did his heart.

Ben

Ben was effected quite a lot by her death. He didn't write as much anymore, poems or otherwise. His days were spent cooped up in the library, praying for an escape from the pain thinking about her brought.

His research stopped completely, as he couldn't find the willpower to do it any longer. His mom could never figure out what happened.. why he stopped being himself.

Ben could still remember how she smiled at him when he told her that Bill liked her.

He could still remember the pained look in her eyes when she saw Bill and Beverly in that bathroom.

He could still remember her.

Mike

Mike went about his day pretending that nothing was wrong. He did his chores, his deliveries, his farm work, all with a smile. Because he had to. He was the strong friend. He had to be strong for everyone else so they wouldn't fall apart.

But on the inside.. On the inside Mike was falling apart. He lost his best friend that day, and he'd remember the images of that damn clown killing her every day, vowing to put an end to It once and for all.

He would make sure that Heather Scott was avenged.

Eddie

After her death, Eddie became even more paranoid about diseases, if that were possible.

He couldn't hang the thought of losing someone else. Her death caused his asthma to worsen. After hearing about Heather Scott, his mom lost it completely.

He thought she was over bearing before.. But oh boy, it got so much worse. Eddie didn't mind it too much anymore.

He didn't have the energy to do anything but worry for the safety of his friends. Eddie called them each every day when he woke up and before he went to bed.. just to make sure they were okay.

He'd even call Heather's house.. hoping that maybe somehow she'd be alive. But all he ever got was an answering machine.

Stan

After Heather's death Stan shut down. He didn't have the energy to make a snarky comment.

Every day he would look in the mirror and blame himself for her death. He told himself he could've helped her.. saved her life even.. if only she would've let them move her.

His anxiety and depression worsened and he hardly ever slept anymore. His mind plagued him with the final words he spoke to her every time he closed his eyes..

How weak and frail she looked as she told him there was nothing he could do.. how scared she looked.

He wished he did something more.

Beverly

When she arrived in Portland, one day after Heather's funeral, her aunt couldn't get her to talk about what happened.

Beverly wasn't as bold anymore, not having the energy to retaliate against the bullies at her new school.

In memory of the bold girl, she pierced her own nose. It took Beverly a full year before her heart didn't ache at the sound of her best friend's name.

Richie

Richie was never the same after her death. He never made any jokes, not having the will power to bring himself to do it.

He hardly even talked anymore, spending his grieving period in the arcade trying to distract himself from thoughts of her.

Like Bill, his grades dropped too. He didn't have the energy to pay attention in class anymore.

He got in a fist fight with Greta Keene after she called her 'A bitch that deserved it.'

He hated how no one remembered her, just labeling her as 'just another cold case'.

~~

Twenty Seven Years Later

6:47 PM

A forty year old Bill Denbrough sighed as he looked up at the sign. He clutched the daises in his hands.

Tears welled up in his eyes as we walked thoug the darkening fields. His blue eyes scanneeld each name as he searched for hers.

Minute passed in silence, the only sounds being the bristling of the trees in the summer evening breeze and the sounds of his own beating heart pounding in his ears.

When he found where she was lauded to rest, he crouched down slowly. His fingers brushed against the cursive lettering of her name, pain spreading from his heart throughout his body.

Staring at the name written on the stone sent him back to his adolescence. He felt like he was thirteen again as the pain grew.

"He-Hey, Hez." The man spoke shakily.  "Be-Been awhile, h-hasn't i-it?"

He laughed bitterly, wiping the tears that had fallen with the back of his hand. "I- Uh.. I-It's b-ba-back."

He ran his hand over his face. "I-I.. We have to go f-fi-fight. Mike to-told me about this r-ri-ritual.. drugged me a-actually.. uh.. I t-th-think it might work p-per-permanently."

Minutes passed in silence as he stared down at the stone. "I-I.. I'll fight for you. N-No.. I'll win for you."

He placed the flowers on the grave, standing up. He looked away briefly, at the setting sun before looking back down. "I'll see you soon."

As he walked away, a weight lifted off of his shoulders.. almost if Heather herself was there. Telling him that everything would be okay.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

{ Word Count: 1159 }

{ A/n: im sobbing }

{ Edited: No }