Well, this is my first fic on this app, (also available on wattpad) it is currently one in the morning and idek if anyone ships them ^ anymore and I dont really care if the whole stenbrough era or wtv is gone but here you go.
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Bill Denbrough rested at the edge of the familiar bed. The bed was stripped of its usual sky-blue sheets and soft pillows. He looked around the room at the familiar four walls and ceiling, having used to be covered in drawings and photos, but now bare and dry. He got up and sat at the desk. Whenever he came in the room, the dark oak desk would be overflowing with papers and pencils would be scattered everywhere, even after he would put them back in their proper place. He slid the desk drawer open, nothing. He didn't know what he was expecting. Bill heard a soft rustle and peered underneath the drawer. An old drawing was caught in the drawer. He pulled it out carefully.ย
The paper displayed four stick figures, drawn in crayon. Each figure was labeled with the person's name: Billy, Georgie, Mom, Dad. Bill remembered the drawing, he smiled a little, a rarity, considering everything. The day Georgie went missing changed everything. Bill lost everything, but he chose to act fine in front of his friends. Whenever they asked if he was okay, he'd respond with "I'm fine," or "Yeah I'm all guh-good," Bill wore a mask every single day until he could take it off, late, every night. When the only sound that filled the house was the soft whirring of the air conditioner and his small desktop fan, Bill could take of the mask and actually feel something. Some nights after Georgie's death, his body wouldn't let him cry, which hurt even more, like he was being stabbed in the chest. He got very tired of everything, he couldn't write anymore, or draw, or do anything. Every day was a cycle. Wake up. Lay in bed. He didn't want to eat much either. Blast music. Watch TV. Eat. Lay in bed. Blast music. Sleep.
Bill lost everything the day his brother died. His friends were there for him and he loved them infinitely, but he felt guilty if he dumped his trauma on them. The losers had their own problems, and he didn't want them worried about him. Y'know when you want people to understand what's going on with you, but you don't want them to worry about you. Bill hated that feeling but he shoved his emotions down anyways. He got up and walked around the small room. Everything was packed neatly into cardboard box. Bill had managed to grab a stuffed animal before it was shoved into a box. It was a blue dinosaur that Georgie had named Terry.
Bill had won Terry for Georgie at the Derry Fair.ย
"Billy! Can you pleeeeeeeeeeeeease get that for me, please," Georgie begged, jumping up and down and tugging on Bill's arm.ย
"O-okay Georgie," Bill said, laughing.ย
The game was ring-toss and Bill tried it twice, failing both times. Richie and Eddie ran up to them. "Billiam, my man," Richie said.ย
"Busy losing?" Georgie and Richie said in sync. Georgie giggled while Richie ruffled his hair.ย
"Here, I got an extra," Eddie said, handing Bill a quarter.ย
Bill played the game again and (surprisingly) he won. The man at the booth gave him the blue dinosaur and Bill handed it to Georgie.ย
"Yay! Thanks Billy!" Georgie said, hugging the dinosaur, and then hugging Bill's torso.ย
Bill would never forget that day. He remembered everything from what outfit he was wearing to the number of quarters in his pocket. Regret. Regret filled his body, coursed through his veins, and stayed in his head.ย
I let him go play outside.ย
I killed my little brother.ย
A tear slipped from his eye.ย
Looking around at the room again. Everything packed away. In less than an hour, the room would be empty and then filled back up with someone else's things.
"Bill? What are you doing in Georgie's room? C'mon get out we have to donate his things,"ย
Bill looked up at his mother standing in the doorway. "Suh-sorry," he said as he walked past her, tears slipping from his eyes. When his mother and father finished bringing the boxes downstairs, they loaded them into the trunk. Bill watched from the top stair. His parents wanted everything that reminded them of Georgie gone. Bill didn't know what he wanted or how to handle, besides music and writing. Self-projecting. His mother had put him in therapy, sometimes that didn't help. The whole point of therapy is to talk about your feelings and problems, the one thing he couldn't do without feeling guilty or that he overshared.ย
A/N: The rest of the story will be told in Bill's perspective. 9
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