𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆

ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵗˡᵉˢ                        ♥︎

⇄ ◁◁ I I ▷▷ ↻

⁰⁰ ²⁵ ━━●━━━━━━━━ ⁰² ⁰⁸

I've just seen a face

I can't forget the time or place where we just met

She's just the girl for me

And I want all the world to see we've met

Mm, mm, mm, mm-mm-mm

Had it been another day

I might have looked the other way

And I'd have never been aware

But as it is, I'll dream of her tonight

Li-di-di-li-den-di

Falling, yes, I am falling

And she keeps calling me back again

I was scared.

And that was a first. Moving into my grandmother's house with my brothers wasn't exactly the dream. Our parents were gravely ill and couldn't take care of us, so here we were, heading to Derry. From what I'd heard, Grandma was kind of loony—and that's saying something, considering she lived in a town full of loonies. Grandpa was... okay, I guess, but even he seemed a little out of it. And honestly? I was worried for my mental health.

As I stared out the car window, I couldn't help but notice how empty the roads were. No cars passed us—just the occasional bus or truck. It was like no one ever left Derry.

"Hey, Gramps," I asked, unable to ignore the weirdness anymore, "why aren't there any cars leaving this place?"

He was zoned out, like always, but snapped out of it to answer. "I don't know. I don't think anyone really has a reason to leave this time of year. Only four months until summer starts—why would they leave?"

I thought about that. I mean, it sounded reasonable enough. I wasn't buying it, but sure.

"How long have you lived here, Gramps?" Asher, my six-year-old brother, piped up from his booster seat.

Gramps smiled a little, thinking. "I don't know. Time's kind of flashed by. Probably since I was 17. Met your grandmother when I was 19, and I've been here ever since."

"Do you ever think about leaving?" Asher pressed.

Gramps got quiet for a second before answering. "Well... when your Aunt Mary was found dead with a bunch of other kids 27 years ago, yeah. I guess I wanted to leave. But your grandma wouldn't let me. She loved this town too much."

Aunt Mary. I'd never met her—none of us had. She died before we were even born. When she was ten, she went missing on her way to the schoolhouse, and they found her two months later. Dead.

No one ever figured out what happened. And no one wanted to.

As we got closer to the town, the beat-up, tattered sign came into view. WELCOME TO DERRY, it read in bold, uneven letters. It gave me the creeps, like it was the last thing you'd ever see if you stepped foot in this town. I hoped it wouldn't be the last thing I saw.

The houses were lined up neatly in little rows as we drove in. Kids were riding their bikes up and down the road, having fun on their winter break. I looked at them for a moment and spotted a group of four boys riding alongside our car.

Two of them looked like they wanted to be anywhere but outside. One looked straight-up depressed, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And then there was this kid with massive bifocals, flailing his arms as he talked about something like it was the most important thing in the world. He was definitely in it.

I was observing all this when Charlie, my 14-year-old brother, suddenly asked, "Who are they?"

Gramps leaned over, his face lighting up with what I can only describe as whimsical energy, and before I could stop him, he rolled down the window and called out.

"Hey, boys! Come over here!"

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. That was all I could think as I slouched lower in my seat, wishing I could disappear.

Asher was practically vibrating with excitement. Percy, my 11-year-old brother, gave a cool nod like that was the only acceptable reaction. Florian, who's 16, didn't even look up from his book. Charlie was bright red, shaking the shortest boy's hand like it was the most embarrassing thing in his life. Nico, who was only a year old, just stared blankly, too young to participate in the chaos. And me? I was melting into the backseat, praying no one would notice me.

Spoiler alert: they noticed.

"Hey, boys," Gramps said, clearly having a great time, "did you know my granddaughter Lillian is the same age as you? She might be in your classes!"

WELL. SHIT.

All four of the boys turned to look at me. The tall one with curly hair gave an awkward wave, like he'd never seen a girl in his life. The one in the flannel started fidgeting and blurted out, "WELCOME TO DERRY!" way too loudly. The short one smirked and elbowed the kid in the bifocals, who was grinning like an idiot.

Meanwhile, Gramps was oblivious to the fact that I was currently being hit on by someone I could only describe as Big-Glasses El Bozo. And coming from me—the reigning queen of bozos—that's saying something.

"Well, we best get going," Gramps said, rolling up the window. "And Bill, tell your family I said hi, okay?"

The one in the flannel—Bill—nodded, his face grim.

Before I could process what had just happened, Gramps drove off, leaving the boys behind as we crept deeper into Derry.

Dam. That's a memory for the books.

(yes their was a persassy jackass reference)