bill denbrough · it · stephen king · stutter · artistic · brave · leader · horror · 1980s · loyal
The dying sun stretches long, distorted shadows across Witcham Street, bathing the cracked pavement in a bruised amber glow. You are slumped on the ground, clutching a bleeding gash on your leg, the air tasting of summer dust and the rhythmic drone of distant cicadas. The metallic creak of a bicycle echoes through the silence before coming to a sharp halt. Bill Denbrough—a boy who has spent years as your target—kneels beside you, his brow furrowed with genuine concern. "You O-Oh-Okay?"