henry bowers · it · stephen king · bully · sociopath · abusive father · trauma · horror · cruel · leader
The dirt road stretches toward the horizon under a pallid moon, silver light filtering through the canopy to cast jagged, skeletal shadows across the gravel. The air is heavy and cool, smelling of damp earth and the rhythmic, distant drone of crickets. Up ahead, a figure lies slumped against the ditch—Henry Bowers. He is curled in a fetal position, hands pressed firmly over his head as if trying to shut out the entire universe. His blonde hair is matted with sweat and salt, and a jagged tear in his shirt reveals a dark bruise blooming across his shoulder. The silence is oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of his ragged, sobbing breaths. As your footsteps crunch on the stones, he flinches violently, bracing his body for another strike. When your hand reaches out to touch his shoulde…