The sound of laughter invaded my ears and I rolled over sleepily, the bean bag making crunching sounds from my movement.

"Yes, that's right! The sewers are the best place for kids to play in the summer!"

I failed to block out the sound of the television and opened my eyes to the dark room, the blue light from the screen illuminating my surroundings.

Richie reclined on the couch with his legs dangling over the arm, one hand across his belly while the other brushed the timber floor. His glasses laid dangerously close to the edge of the sofa and would most likely be on the floor by morning. Ben was slumped in the armchair, his head lolled to the side and resting against his shoulder.

"You know who you can find playing in the sewers? That's right, Patrick Hockstetter!"

I groaned as I twisted myself up into a sitting position, looking around for the remote. After a few moments of coming up with nothing, I flopped back down onto the bean bag and closed my eyes, trying to shut out the blaring sound of the TV that disrupted my sleep.

"Yes, he's floating down here with all of the other kids! And if you come with us, you can float too!"

I felt a burning in my throat and strenuously stood up, my limps stiff from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. Trying my best to be quiet and not wake the boys, I made my way up the stairs and into the kitchen.

The house was in pure darkness and I felt against the wall of what I presumed to be the kitchen, searching for a light switch. The feeling of uncertainty from not being able to see my surroundings gave me goosebumps and I felt a wave of relief when my fingers found what they were looking for.

The clean kitchen was irradiated and I scanned the shelves for cups. Spotting the glassware, I walked over to the cabinet and stood on my tiptoes as I reached for one. My fingers closed around the cool crystal and I brought it to the sink, filling it with cold water.

I brought the cup to my lips and felt instant relief as the refreshing liquid moved down my throat. I downed the glass in three gulps and slammed it on the counter when I finished, making a loud noise.

The sound wasn't enough to conceal the quick footsteps I heard from behind me, though, and I spun around just in time to see a dark figure run up the stairs.

"Richie?" I asked, my heart beating quick. I heard the sound of a door being opened from above and slowly made my way out of the kitchen.

"Hello?" I asked again, squinting up the dim lighted staircase.

All of a sudden, the kitchen light turned off and I was submerged in darkness. The only source of light was the glow of the moon and stars peeking through the windows.

I walked back into the kitchen and flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. The power must had gone out.

I turned back towards the staircase uneasily. My mind told me to go back downstairs and wake the others, but I felt an overwhelming pull towards following whoever had run up the stairs. After a couple moments of hesitation, I started up the steps.

My unfamiliarity of the house and minimal lighting were unfavourable when I was greeted with a dark hallway at the top of the staircase. Every door was closed, except for the one at the very end.

I could see an open window and thin curtains were blowing in the breeze. All of a sudden, my whole body went cold. Tingles went through my limbs as goosebumps arose and my hair stood on end.

I tried to move forward, but it felt as if my feet were glued to the floor. My legs would not cooperate.

Suddenly, a tall, dark figure stepped into view in front of the open window. The shadows made it impossible to tell who it was, but something was telling me they weren't friendly.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

The figure stepped forward and their face was illuminated by the light from the window. I gasped and my legs took a mind of their own, moving backwards until my foot hit empty space and I went plummeting down the stairs.

The last thing I saw was Patrick's malicious grin peering down at me from the top of the staircase before everything went black.

- - -

A sharp pain in the side of my head brought me out of my unconsciousness and I felt the cool, hard surface of the wooden floor.

I groaned and rolled onto my side, my body aching all over. Orange light shone down on the walls around me, indicating it was morning.

"Fuck." I moaned as I sat up, blood rushing to my head. I looked up the dim staircase and memories of last night flooded my mind; waking up to get a drink of water, hearing footsteps, falling down the stairs, and Patrick.

Patrick had been here.

I scrambled to my feet and up the stairs, ignoring the pounding in my head. I made it to the top of the staircase and looked down the hallway.

Something was different.

Every single door was open, except for the room at the very end. Despite the night's events seeming distant and unclear in my mind, I knew that was the room I had seen Patrick.

I didn't hesitate in making my way towards the closed door. Light was peaking out of the crack at the bottom and there was a slight whooshing sound. The window must have still been open.

My hands found the cool doorknob and I pushed the door open, the absence of a creak feeling abnormal.

I was greeted with morning light which spilled out of the open window, the now yellow curtains still flapping in the breeze. I looked to the right towards the messily made single bed and open wardrobe, noticing nothing out of the ordinary.

"Fuck." I mumbled again, running my hands through my hair. Surely I hadn't imagined it, right? I was certain I had seen Patrick here and I had woken up lying at the base of the stairs. Whether or not it was Patrick I had seen, someone had been in the house last night. Someone that shouldn't have been here.

I turned to walk back out of the room, but froze when I noticed what was behind me. At first I thought it was the trick of the light, but after it floated further up the stairs and closer into view, there was no mistaking it for what it was.

It was as if a gust of wind was pushing the bright, red balloon towards me. I knew that was impossible, however, because the breeze blowing on my back should have been pushing it in the other direction.

As the balloon moved closer to me, I could make out the large letters that were printed on its red surface.

FLOAT WITH ME

As I read the three words, they were spoken aloud by a hauntingly familiar voice that I couldn't place my fingers on. I reached out to grab the now still balloon, but with a sound alike a gunshot, it popped. A dark brown liquid exploded out at me, spraying my face and the walls of the hallway.

I screamed and backed away until I hit the wall next to the open window. A strong stench invaded my nostrils that strongly reminded me of Derry's sewers.

"Lara?!" I heard a voice yell from downstairs. I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off as the bedroom door slammed shut. I ran forward, trying to turn the door handle which wouldn't budge.

"Lara? Where are you?!" Richie yelled. His voice sounded closer and I started banging on the door, sobbing. Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway and I was thrust backwards onto the floor as the door was pushed open.

Richie and Ben stared at me from the doorway with expressions of disquiet and concern.

"Lara? What happened?" Richie asked and moved forward, his eyes squinted. His face looked significantly different, considering his oversized spectacles were nowhere to be seen. They must have fallen on the floor during the night.

"I... There was a... Patrick..." I spluttered, struggling to form a cohesive sentence.

"Patrick was in my house? What the fuck Lara?" Richie stood up, annoyed.

"No! I mean, I don't know. I heard footsteps upstairs and there was this figure that looked like Patrick and then I fell down the stairs and blacked out and when I woke up I went back upstairs and the doors were all different and then there was this balloon that said something weird and then it popped and all this brown stuff came out and then the door slammed shut and I-" I gasped for air, feeling lightheaded.

"Sorry, but could you say that again? Maybe a little slower this time?" Ben asked, standing beside Richie.

So I told them everything I could remember, making sure I took breaths in between sentences. When I was done, the two boys had looks of unease and doubt on their faces.

"I think you dreamt it, or sleepwalked or something." Richie said, frowning.

"No, I swear it happened! Can't you see all the stuff on my face and walls?" I cried, placing my hands on my forehead, but froze when I felt nothing but smooth skin. There was no wetness or stickiness that I had remembered.

I stood up abruptly and pushed past the boys into the hallway. The walls were the same off-white colour they had always been. I ran my hands through my hair.

"I swear I saw it." I muttered. I felt someone place a hand on my shoulder, and Richie was looking at me sympathetically.

"Don't worry Lara, the werewolf movie gave me nightmares too. Mine obviously weren't as bad as yours, though, because I didn't freak the fuck out and start screaming about psychopathic boyfriends."

I pushed his arm off of me and shook my head. Ben was looking at me with an expression of slight fear, as if he believed what I had told him.

"I think I'm gonna head home." I mumbled and walked towards the staircase.

"Just think of naked women when you're trying to fall asleep! Or dudes, in your case. It always helps me forget about scary shit at night." Richie suggested as I walked down the stairs, but I ignored him.

There was no way that was all a dream.