Blood was trickling down the spot the shard of glass was digging in and I watched it dribble onto the floor, unfeeling. Who would miss me? Definitely not my mum, and not Patrick, wherever the hell he was. I was about to press down deeper, but a thought stopped me.

There was a feeling deep inside me, a feeling that I'd never experienced before.

It wasn't the feeling that I got when I looked at Patrick, no matter the butterflies he gave me whenever I was around him. It wasn't the feeling that I had when I painted, despite it saving me from my darkest times on numerous occasions.

No, it was the feeling that I got when I was around my friends. When I was with my friends, my smile would meet my ears, warmth would spread through my chest, and I'd be stripped down to the innermost layer of myself but never feel ashamed of who I was.

It was my love for my friends that made me drop that piece of glass.

I moved to my bed, suddenly exhausted. I was appalled at what I had so badly wanted to do, and how close I had come to doing it. Ignoring the wet paint that coated the bedsheets, I sat down and leaned against the head-frame.

Three days. Three days until my mum shipped me out of Derry and made me start a new life. I dug my fingernails into the mattress, shaking my head. I wouldn't leave. Not with her. I'd run away; she wouldn't spare much of an effort looking for me, and I could get away with it. Maybe I could stay in Richie's basement until I figured something out.

But would Richie want me around him after today? He left before I did, so he probably thought I was on Bill's side. And I was. That monster would come for us, and I needed to get everyone together before it did. Feeling cold and drained, I stood up to close the window, but spotted something on the road that made me pause.

Eddie's bike.

That's it!

If I could somehow convince Eddie that we needed to stick together and kill that clown, then the others would join too. Because the reason they were so reluctant to go back into Neibolt was because they were terrified of how close it had come to killing Eddie. If Eddie, who had been hurt the most out of anyone, was willing to keep fighting, then the others would too.

But how would I convince him? His mum didn't want him hanging out with us anymore, and I doubt she'd give me the chance to talk to him... Unless I didn't actually speak to him. I could write a note, telling him what I knew and what we needed to do, and slip it through his window

I dropped to the floor and scrambled through the mess, searching for a piece of paper. Finally I found one, although it was lightly splattered with paint, and I put a pen between my teeth and pulled the cap off before I started writing. The words wouldn't stop flowing out of me, and I didn't even stop to read what I had written before I folded it into two. I stood up and turned to leave, but a figure in the doorway stopped me in my tracks.

The man who was charged with sexual assault after my mum had tried to force me to 'work' for him stood grinning at me, his lips a bright red colour. He was dressed in the exact same suit he was wearing that dreadful night two months ago, his hair still cropped short. I took a step back in shock, almost tripping over my fallen desk. He took a step towards me.

"Mr J-J-Johnson?" I stuttered, the letter still clutched tightly in my hand behind my back.

"It's been awhile, huh?" he smirked, taking another step towards me. I tried to move backwards, but my back hit the window. He laughed as my mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out.

"You know, that stunt you pulled with the police caused me to have quite a few issues. But I'm not mad about that, oh no. I'm mad that you had the impertinence to agree to have me pay you for your services, and then finger me for something that I had consent for! And you thought that you and your mother could get away with it by moving to a new town, but, little girl, you should know that money can buy anything, especially information."

My mind wandered back to that awful, awful night.

I watched my mum's blue car drive away and I turned to look up at the tall building reluctantly. I hated my mum. She knew I didn't want to do this, but she made me do it anyway. I walked through the glass doors and pressed the button for the elevator, my foot tapping restlessly. After what felt like hours, the elevator dinged and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the very top floor.

Mr Johnson had a penthouse. A penthouse. In no means did I like him, but I had to admit; my mum knew how to get the rich ones.

The elevator lurched upwards and I felt the familiar pressure in my stomach. Luckily, nobody else stopped the elevator, and I stumbled out into the small hallway. There was only one door and I pressed the doorbell hesitantly. I was already starting to feel sick.

A minute passed and I was about to walk away happily but the door opened and I was greeted with the familiar face of Mr Johnson. Lines marked his face from years of age and hard work. His beady brown eyes stared greedily at me.

I was wearing a short, satin dress, that hung loosely on me but revealed far more than I would have liked. I covered my chest self consciously as he stepped aside for me to enter and I walked into his fancy home.

He led me to a black, leather love seat, and I sat down feeling beyond uncomfortable. I tried to ignore what I was about to do and distracted myself by looking around, but it was impossible once I felt his hand on my thigh.

I tensed up immediately, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. Slowly, his fingers trailed upwards underneath my dress, until there was nowhere else to go. I kept my face tilted away from his, knowing that if I looked him in the eyes, there would be nothing stopping me from bolting right there and then.

I felt him lean in and wet lips were placed on my neck. I scrunched my eyes closed and focused on maintaining steady breaths, willing myself to calm down. His fingers played with the lace of my underwear and his other hand trailed up my side to cup my breast through my shirt.

"I..." I started to say, feeling as if I was going to vomit. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want my first time to be with this disgusting old man. As soon as his hands slipped underneath my clothing, I pushed him away.

"I can't. I don't want to." I shook my head, feeling green. He grabbed my leg and pulled me back, this time feeling my body more forcefully. I let out a low whimper and pushed away again, earning a growl.

"I paid the money." he said lowly. I continued to shake my head.

"Please, I don't want to." I whispered, watching his hand slowly inch along the couch towards me. "I'll pay you back."

But he ignored me and leapt off the couch and onto me, his weight holding me down. I let out a small scream and tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them to my side. He looked at me hungrily before bring his head down to slip off the straps of my dress with his teeth.

I whimpered as I felt his mouth on my now exposed breasts and I thrashed my head around to get away. He let out another growl, and that's all it took for me to bring my knee up and hit him in the groin.

He let out a yell and rolled off me. I was up in an instant and running towards a room. I locked the door behind me and turned around, my back pressed against the door and breathing heavily. I was in a bedroom, and, on the bedside table, was a phone. Suddenly, I heard yells and banging coming from outside of the room and I lurched away from the door in panic. I didn't want to know how long it took for him to knock down the door and find me.

Knowing that my mum wouldn't do anything if I called her, I dialed the number for the police.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice shaking and barely a whisper. What he was saying wasn't fair. I hadn't wanted to do any of it, my mum had forced me. And when I had gotten to his penthouse, I told him so. But he had already given my mum the money and wouldn't take no for an answer.

"I want you to give me the letter that you're currently hiding behind your back." he replied.

I kept the piece of paper clutched between my fingers, looking at the man, confused. "Why would you want it?"

He licked his lips. "Well, Lara, I can't have you ruining my plans now, can't I?" What plans? What did my letter to Eddie have anything to do with him?

"My letter doesn't have anything to do with ruining your..." I trailed off, noticing something off about him. Only a few moments ago, his eyes were an obvious brown. But now, they were different. At first, I thought his eyes had started to glow, but now I could tell that they weren't. They were yellow.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" he laughed, a high pitch giggle that sent familiar shivers down my spine.

"You're- you're not Mr Johnson." I whispered and he laughed again. This time, a strong shudder rippled through his body. His grin turned upside down as he started to shake uncontrollably, and his eyes rolled back into his head. In front of my own eyes, his whole appearance started to shift. His skin turned a pasty white colour, his already receded hairline retreated another couple of inches as his forehead grew and hair turned orange. He shot up another foot, and Mr Johnson's suit ripped from the strain.

Without thinking twice, I made towards the door, hoping that the creature was distracted enough for me to make my escape. But the door slammed in my face and I let out a scream of desperation as I tried, and failed, to open it again.

As I pounded on the door uselessly, I noticed that the room had become quiet. I turned around, expecting to see the clown grinning down at me, but was greeted with nothing. It was nowhere to be seen. The flapping curtains at the window caught my attention, and I stepped over the fallen clutter to get to it.

Had I opened the window today? I didn't think so. The clown must have opened it and run away. I stuck my head out into the afternoon air, searching the street for any sign of a frilly costume and bright red hair, but could see nothing out of the ordinary.

Why had it disappeared? I looked down at the now crumpled piece of paper in my hand and tried to smooth it out. What was the point of it coming to my house if it wasn't even going to take what it wanted? After my encounter with It, I was more than desperate to get to Eddie and the others before it got to them.

I stepped away from the window and turned around to leave the room, but a high pitched giggle coming from above stopped me in my tracks. I looked up as the clown sprung from the roof and knocked me to the ground.

The last thing I saw was the piece of paper lying face up, before the world went black.