![]() He trudges down the cellar stairs, an iron grip on the railing, letting darkness engulf him. "It's okay," he whispered under his breath. Georgie took several deep breaths, desperately attempting to swallow his fear. He would have to go down into the cellar. His fingers reached the switch and flicked it back and forth. Struggling to regain his composure, he clung to the wall, reaching for the light and tried not to think about the claw that could take his arm. "Georgie," It was just Bill from the walkie talkie. His breathing picked up and he gulped, he could hear something clattering down there!Ī sharp, piercing beep rang in his ears, startling him. The door made a sickening creak and he crept to the edge of the stairs, hoping whatever possible creature lurked at the bottom wouldn't hear him. Georgie walked slowly over to the door, gently pushing it open. Bill was never scared of the cellar, so neither should he! Georgie gulped, but oh, how he wanted that boat!īill wouldn't be scared. The cellar door was open and he could hear that same sinister voice in the back of his head, promising his demise. When Georgie reached the kitchen, he slowed. The music added a chilling tone that made his nerves spike. He passed his mother in the dining room, where she sat at the piano, her fingers dancing along the keys. A fact he was fine with if it meant it took longer to get to the cellar. His legs, he realized, were moving slower than normal. Georgie left Bill's room, not before grabbing his walkie talkie and headed downstairs. "You want it to f-float, don't you?" Bill asked simply. He knew it was silly, but every time he would reach for the light, the image of long sharp talons reaching out for his tiny little hand. He always imagined dangers of the unimaginable lurking at the bottom, waiting to snatch him up. ![]() "You didn't see the v-v-vomit coming out of my nose this morning?" He asked incredulously.īill looked down at the finished paper boat. He hated that his brother joked about stuff like that, he'd hate it if something really happened to him. Georgie stood from the window and walked over to his brother, sighing. ![]() "I'd come with you if I weren't," he stopped abruptly and coughed forcefully into his hand. His stutter was light but it got worse after Georgie disappeared. This accident, his mother had said, caused the stutter. When he was three, he had been hit by a car and knocked into a building, and he remained unconscious for seven hours. He turned over his shoulder to look at his brother, who was folding a paper boat for him.īill had always had a stutter, and everyone who knew him was used to it. He had fogged up the glass with his breath, and he drew a large smiley face on the glass, just before it disappeared. Georgie, Bill's younger brother was at the window. That song was playing the day Georgie died, he would think. A song that would haunt him for the rest of his life. His mother is downstairs on the piano, playing Für Elise. Bill Denbrough sits in bed, he was tearing out a piece of paper from his sketchbook. Gray skies and a thick layer of storm clouds blanket the town of Derry, Maine.
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