https://discord.gg/dvjjh98

(Y/N) Pov

The rain poured down, splattering along the tin roof of the shed to the right of you. The water splashed upwards into the air each time it made contact with the surface, making it look like a water-show in Disney. You were sitting in a classroom, doing your grade eleven English work - working on your oral presentation for World War I. Not your best area. You were working on a book called "A Rose for the Anzac Boys." It was very boring, you remember going a chapter in and virtually giving up. But you pushed through.

At this moment of time, your eyes were intensely watching the laptop screen. You'd managed to score a seat beside the window at the back of the room by yourself. The teacher never came back here, her fat arse couldn't squeeze between the desks - the whole school knew that.

You fingers pressed the arrow keys; right, left, down. Not up, that would fuck your whole game up. That's why you sat at the back, you just played '2048.' Best game ever, you could always close the tab within seconds if a student walked by - but most were doing the same thing.

You glanced at the time, seeing it read 2:30. Another hour to go until you could go home and do nothing. You sighed, looking up from your screen and out the window. Watching the rain splatter down on the surface of the world - everything. You snickered as you watched the women and men tumble around in the rain. Their umbrellas flying everywhere from the harsh winds.

You felt something excruciating in the back of your head, almost a headache about to bust out of your face. You gently rubbed your forehead, feeling a burning sensation. "Ahh.." You groaned, looking down at the time to see you've wasted over ten minutes staring out the window. Shocked, you looked back outside to see the rain had completely gone, and the wind had blown away. Your hand was still on the back of your head, but the pain had gone suddenly.

A glimpse of red caught your eye, making you look over to the right of the window, staring at the staff car park now. The red was still there, and it was a circular shape. Your eyes didn't fault, but you thought they did when the red circle multiplied, then went up into the air. "Balloons?" You whispered, watching them go up and up in the clear sky, then pop from the atmosphere. You looked back down at the car park, seeing the back of someone near a car: the orange-red hair catching your eye.

Cringing, you looked away. Thinking it was just some cracked man standing in the car park with dyed hair. But the intense stare of someone bothered you, so you looked back out the window to see the man had moved around fifty meters to the right. Now facing you, his facade towering over the ford forester beside him. You slowly lowered the screen of your laptop, squinting your eyes as you stared at the man. Soon realizing he had makeup on, and unusual clothes. Tassels, flares, and makeup - was he the one who let those balloons go?

You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, seeing the person just continue staring up at your classroom window. He wasn't staring at you now, that's what you said to reassure yourself. But you still felt uncomfortable, because you know for sure he was staring at you before. How can he even see you? Your two stories up in a brick school. He was over two hundred meters away, and two stories down. This man really had some eyes.

Suddenly the male held his hand out, waving it around frantically before string soon formed in his palm. You gulped, seeing him chuck it in the air and a red dot at the end of the string slowly enlarge. Another balloon - he just created a balloon out of nothing. You gasped, watching it go up and up before it suddenly came towards your window. You were shaking violently, watching the balloon come towards you then stop around a meter away from the window. Your heart was thumping loudly, you were surprised no one noticed any of this yet. Too caught up in the moment, you leaned forward, pressing your face against the window.

Pop.

The balloon burst and some red substance splattered everywhere, covering the window. You screamed, jumping up and looking at the now possibly blood covered window.

"Quiet down, (y/n)!" The teacher shouted, standing up and crossing her arms. Glaring at you, her glasses halfway down her nose.

You stared at her in disbelief before looking out the window. Seeing that it was now thundering down rain, the wind was blasting and there was no man or balloon. No red substance, nothing.

"Didn't you- did you not see that? The red stuff on the window!" You pointed frantically at the glass. But everyone just stared at you before they began to laugh. "I'm not making this up! There was some man out there, and he let this balloon go and it came towards the glass and pop!" You make a 'poof' gesture, "this red stuff went all over the window! Blood! I swear to god it was blood!" Your hands were sweaty when you went silent. Looking at your classmates who were just giggling at you.

"Sit down, (y/n). Stop disrupting the class at once!" The teacher snapped, sitting back down.

You figured there was no point in arguing back, so you looked back out the window. The rain was pouring down, muffling the sounds of laughter from the class.

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson," you mumbled, scooting out of your chair and walking awkwardly towards her desk. "Can I go to the toilet? I don't feel very good," you lied.

"My god, go home," she growled, handing you a leave pass which you gladly snatched. Storming out of the classroom with flushed cheeks. The wind began to slap your face, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs. So much for kilts. You thought with a sigh, walking down the stairs and into the girl's toilets.

You choose the last cubical, locking the door and plonking yourself on the toilet. Staring at the ground, holding your face in your hands. "I need a drink," you sighed, rubbing your forehead before you got up, unlocking the door and walking out of the cubical.

Red was everywhere, you screamed: the mirror was covered in blood. "Fuck!" You shouted, stumbling backward to feel something behind you. You cringed, your heart thumping as you felt the warmth of a person. "Ahh..." You shivered, taking a step forward and slowly turning around, coming face to face with nothing. "What..." You whispered, looking around. You swear you were just up against someone. Quickly, you swirled around to look at the mirror, but all you saw was yourself. The blood was gone.

You ran out of the bathroom, not wanting to look back. You couldn't look back, whatever was there or whatever may pop up isn't leaving you alone. You have to be imagining things. Maybe it's cause you stay up late, maybe it's cause you don't eat breakfast now. Jesus, who the fuck knows why.

Slowing your pace down you padded up the stairs, having a firm grip on the stairwell handle. But a burning sensation began to form as you were midway up the stairs. You stopped in your tracks, looking at the metal pole that you had your grasp on. It was burning red, making you gasp and remove your hand. Your palm stinging, your eyes watering. "Ouch..." You whined, staring at your hand which would be blistering tonight. You'll have to bandage that. You cringed as you looked at the ever brightening handle, watching it burn red. Making you shiver. How did the stairwell handle start burning red? Gulping you turned foot, running up the stairs. Holding your right burnt hand with your left. You'll have to go to sickbay.

You walked past your classroom door, not bothering to go inside to ask for permission to go to the sick bay. You already knew Mrs. Jackson couldn't care, and you weren't going to deal with her and the class laughing at you.

With a burning, red blistering hand you headed to the student office where the sick bay was. The cold was licking your burnt hand, not giving any comfort or relief from pain. Just making it worse.

You tucked your hand into your jacket pocket, holding it still so it didn't rub against the fabric, and against the wind. The rain was pelting down, narrowly missing you as you ran straight across the courtyard - completely unaware of a red balloon floating across the grass.

You skidded to a halt outside a push-glass door and shoving it open with your shoulder. Walking inside, taking your hand out of your pocket and gulping. You headed towards the bay, walking towards the door and opening it with your non-injured hand.

A lady was sitting calmly on a swivel chair, tapping away at the keyboard. "Terrible weather, isn't it dear?" She commented, turning to look at you with a smile. You nodded back, walking over to her. Your hair sticking to your face, absolutely drenched. "What's wrong, dear?"

"I burnt my hand severely..." You held your hand out, letting her inspect it. She gave a 'tut' before standing up, walking over to the medic's cupboard.

"Sit down dear," the women instructed, you nodding again. Walking over to the bunk bed and sitting down - no one else but you and this woman in the sickbay. You shuffled around before relaxing, leaning up against the wall. Your hand stinging. You heard a door slam and peaked an eye open to see the woman walking over to you with a smile. Kneeling down, a bandage and disinfected rub. "What did you do?" She asked, grabbing your hand, making you flinch.

"I..." You looked away for a moment, trying to think of how to say you burnt your hand on the stair-well without looking like an idiot.

"Burnt yourself on the stairwell?" She chuckled, making you look at her with shock. Your heart began to thump loud as your hands began to sweat. The woman gently rubbed the syrup over your hand. Causing you to flinch.

"How did you..." You looked at your hand, watching her bandage it all up now. "...know?"

She chuckled, looking at your hand with slight pride. "Cameras, dear." She said simply, standing up and patting your head like a dog.

"Oh..." You mumbled, examining your hand. You couldn't move your fingers or anything. "Thanks," you smiled, looking up at the White-haired lady. Her bob bouncing on her shoulders as she padded to the sink. Grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

"Would you like some Panadol, sweats?" She asked, grabbing two pills and handing them to you. Not even letting you had a choice whether you wanted it or not. "It'll stop the pain," she explained, placing the pills on your lap. "Can't have you in p-pain..."

You looked down at the pills and glass of water in your working hand, then back up at her. But she wasn't there, which made your gulp before you saw her on her laptop. Looking at travel deals for holidays.

You placed the glass of water on the bedside table, and the pills on a tissue. Then you laid down, closing your eyes and sighing.

Moments later you felt the bed dip behind you, making you peak and eye open. You looked around, seeing no one here: no one to push against your bed.

You laid still in the bed, feeling something lither around your waist. You squeaked, looking down to see a hand. "Ahh," you yelled, rolling out of the bed and onto the ground. Sitting up and looking at the bed. Seeing a man, the same man in the car park. You screamed, standing up and holding your hands out.

The man in the bed slowly sat up. "Hiya (y/n)!" He chimed. His lips curling into a weird smile, his eyes pointing opposite directions - anywhere but you.

"Who are you?" You croaked out, taking a step forward. Watching as the man slowly stood up. Coming to the height of the bunk bed. "St-stay away from me," you screeched, stumbling back. Holding onto the cupboards.

He forced a pout, looking down at you. "Ouch." He simply said, placing a gloved hand against his chest. Acting as if he was hurt.

You looked up at the male, noticing the makeup and hair, and the clothes. This man was dressed as a fucking scary clown. How did the woman not notice this? You quickly averted your eyes to the seat where the lady was, but she wasn't moving. You gulped, seeing blood trickle into the carpet.

"Wh-what did you do to her?" You whispered, looking back up at the clown. Your eyes wide, your heart about to jump out of your chest. This clown was tall, over 6 foot, maybe 6"4.

You cringed, taking a step back when he took a step forward, leaning down to stare at you better.

"What do you think?" He snarled, placing his hands clasped behind his back. His lips curling into a forked smile.

You shook your head, holding your wounded hand close to you. "Stay-stay away from me..." You demanded weakly, feeling nauseous now. You weren't going to vomit now, not in front of this thing.

He stayed silent before taking a step back. The jingle of bells makes you gulp. He stared at you, his eyes dilating awkwardly.

"Who are you?" You chocked out, feeling a tad relieved he moved away from you.

He snickered, bending down in almost an awkward bow, but he was too tall to make a full, non-awkward bow. The clown than stood straight, "I'm Pennywise... The dancing-" he shivered,"-clown..."

You gulped, looking around, before spotting a clock. The bell was about to go, you had to leave. "R-right," you whispered, taking a side step, hoping to get away. You were about to go into a dash towards the door, but a hand snaked around your neck, and your feet were off the ground.

You gasped, looking down to see Pennywise with a firm grip on you. Snarling furiously, his hands not too tight, but tight enough to make you lose breath and pass out in his grip. Dangling there.