Bill stared angrily out of his window onto the road which laid Eddie's bike. He couldn't stand the predicament he and his friends were in; risk their lives and save Georgie, along with preventing other children from going missing, or stay safe and ignore the blatant evil that was tearing Derry apart.

It had been a day since the argument in front of his house, the argument where he had punched Richie in the face. And Bill regretted it. He had never punched someone so hard on purpose before and the bruise spotting his knuckles were a reflection of the repercussions of those actions.

At least Beverly was on his side. She had given him a spraying for hurting Richie, but they had talked for hours afterwards until she had to go home. She understood him better than all the other Losers, even better than Lara. Bill always noticed the glances his friends shared when he brought up Georgie and how they lied when they said they understood. Because nobody did, not even Beverly.

And how could they? How could they possibly understand that he dreamed of Georgie being dead every single night, but woke up more confident than ever that he was still alive? How could they understand that the grief and hopelessness of everyone around him motivated him to find the missing kids even more? Even It's presence wasn't enough to make him want to turn away.

And that was why they had a falling out. Nobody had a reason to go after It except for Bill, so why would they want to? He understood why they were scared, especially after what had happened to Eddie, but he didn't understand how they couldn't see that bad things were going to keep happening unless they did something about it.

Because God knew nobody else was.

Bill turned away from the window, his mind racing. It had been a day without talking to any of his friends, a day where anything could have happened. What if they clown had sensed their vulnerability? What if it had taken one of them while it knew they wouldn't notice?

Sudden panic flooded his body and he ran down the stairs and out the front door without a moment's hesitation. His mother barely spared him a glance as he darted past, something that he had grown accustomed to since Georgie's disappearance.

He had to make sure the others were okay. Even if they ignored him, or yelled in Richie's case, just seeing them was all it would take to calm him down. He couldn't shrug off the feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach, as if his body was telling him something bad had happened. His mind immediately went to Beverly and he was tempted to race straight to her house, but as he looked up at the house across the road, he knew he needed to check on everyone.

Lara had been the last to leave yesterday, and even then she seemed reluctant. He couldn't help but feel as if it had something to do with him and Beverly's presence and he didn't know how to feel about it. It was no lie that he used to have feelings for her, but those feelings felt like a distance memory since the light that was Beverly had become a bigger part of his life.

And Lara was hung up on Patrick, anyway. A relationship he knew wouldn't work out. Patrick was psychotic and evil and Lara was the complete opposite. Although he knew she had a troubled upbringing and her own fair share of flaws, she was good. She deserved better.

He noticed the missing car in the driveway and felt a wave of relief pass through him, along with worry that Lara was not home either. He walked up to the front door and knocked twice. A minute passed, but there was no answer. He pressed his ear against the wood, hoping to hear a noise that indicated someone was home, but only heard silence.

"Lara?" he called and turned the door handle. To his surprise it was unlocked and the door swung open, hitting the wall that had a collection of indents and nicks, alike the one at his house. Ignoring the warnings that told him this was an invasion of privacy, he stepped into the silent house and made towards the stairs that he knew led to her bedroom.

Before he ascended to the second level, he made sure to call out again. He didn't want to look suspicious if someone saw him, not even knowing why he was in her house. It was as if some other force was moving his legs for him.

He made sure to be quiet as he walked up the stairs, for a reason unbeknownst to him, and was greeted with her closed bedroom door. As he grasped the handle, he noticed something seeping under the door. He dropped to his knees and a jolt of fear ran through him as he examined the dried, red substance. Was it... Blood?

Remaining on his knees, he pushed the door open and was rooted to the spot at the sight he saw. Her bedroom was in a complete mess. Paints of all colours were splattered everywhere, which was, to his relief, what he had seen under the door. Her bedsheets were on the floor, lying among the scattered paper and pencils. The mirror had been knocked over and shards of glass were scattered dangerously on the floor, one shard having reached has far as her bed. Even her desk wasn't standing.

But there wasn't blood. At least, none that he could see.

Slowly, Bill stood to his feet, his face a mask of horror. What had happened here? But he already knew the answer to that. It was the reason he had come here in the first place.

It had gotten to her. It had taken Lara.

He sagged against the doorframe, suddenly feeling exhausted. All that motivation he felt in coming here had disappeared, as if someone flicked a switch. Now all he felt was frightened and hopeless. He was about to turn away, not bearing to see the sight of his friend's struggle any longer, when he saw something lying on the ground.

He didn't know what significance the piece of paper had, but he walked into the room and picked it up anyway. It was a letter, lying face-up with a messy, black scrawl. He stared at it for a few moments, but didn't read it. This was unusual for Lara. It was obviously her script, but he had seen her write in class before and it was never this careless. Taking a deep breath, he started to read.

Dear Eddie,

I'm in a rush so I can't fill you in on everything, but please keep reading. It's important.

After you left today, we had a fight. Billy and Richie got into an argument about going back into Neibolt, and it turned physical. I don't think they're going to be on speaking terms, at least not for awhile.

And that's why I'm writing to you, because you're the only one that might be able to change everyone else's mind. They don't want to go after It anymore because they're scared of what it had done to you, and what more it could do. I'm scared too.

But Eddie, I have a really bad feeling. Something terrible is going to happen if we don't stick together, I can just feel it. We hurt It, and it's mad, and it's going to spare no time in coming after us while we're vulnerable. What happened today was scary, but nowhere near as bad as what's happened to the other missing kids.

Please, I know your mum doesn't want us to be friends anymore, but try and talk to the others. We don't have to go back into Neibolt, and we don't have to fight It. We just need to stick together. We've got to have each other's backs. Because I'm afraid that after today, we don't. Not anymore.

I'm scared. I know you are too.

Lara.

PS: I hope you're okay.

Bill's hands were shaking by the time he finished the letter. Lara had known what was going to happen, and that was why the clown had gone after her first. Bill didn't even think giving this letter to Eddie would have done anything, but the clown definitely did. And now Lara was gone.

He shoved the letter into his jeans pocket and ran out of the house with a newfound motivation. Or was it desperation? Bill couldn't tell and couldn't care. All he knew was that he had to get to the others and tell them what happened. They had to go back into Neibolt. Richie's words echoed in his head, but this time it wasn't about Georgie.

"Lara is dead. Stop trying to get us killed too... You couldn't save her, but you can save yourself."

But Richie wouldn't say that, because it was Lara. The first person to join the Losers Club besides the original four, and the person who had set the cogs of the others in motion. Nobody would say no to saving her, not even Stan.

Bill speed-walked to Beverly's house, his mind racing with strategies for getting her back.

It wasn't until he found her dad's body and the bloody writing on the wall that he started to run.