.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

【 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 】

i. school's out for summer

AS THE BELL RANG TO SIGNAL THE END OF SCHOOL, a feeling of relief washed over Verity Summers.
Finally, it was the summer, and the girl could be free from the sympathetic questions and the pitying glances.

After her brother's body had been found lying mangled in the barrens, she had withdrawn into herself; stopped talking to people unless she had to. People didn't bother her as she kept her head down, and she planned to keep it that way in the new term.
The only things that still mattered to her were photography, and running the school newspaper.

She as walking to her locker when someone bumped into her, literally.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" She muttered, picking up the books she had dropped.

"Oh crap, I'm so sorry, Verity!" She recognised the voice; Ben Hanscom, the new kid.

He was balancing what looked like the contents of his entire locker in his arms; his round face flushed with embarrassment and exertion.

"No, it's my fault Ben," She reassured him. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

She liked Ben. He was pretty quiet, but once you got past that he was a good friend. He even helped out with the paper sometimes, (and although Verity knew he did it to hide from Henry Bowers, the school's resident bully, it still meant a lot.)

"Want any help with those?" She asked, and Ben shook his head.

"Nah, I'm alright. Thanks though!" He called as he walked away, leaving Verity at her locker.

Please can that kid get a break this summer, she thought. Bowers hasn't gotten time alone with him yet.

She stepped over the threshold of the school, glad that summer was finally there. Of course, she wasn't going to spend much time at home during the holidays. The Summers household had changed since Isaac had gone. Verity couldn't bring herself to say the alternative - died.

Even months after, she still expected to see her brother around the house, as though nothing had ever happened. Playing with his lego, sitting at the kitchen table, or swinging on the old tyre that hung from the tree in their yard.
Never again.

Don't think about it, okay? Just try and enjoy the next couple of months. She thought, but deep down she knew that would be impossible. Enjoying the holiday seemed as likely as Verity flying to the moon.

She turned the corner- and ran straight into Henry Bowers.
"Wow, nice to know you're keeping busy after school ends." She said dryly, taking in the scene; the bully was messing with Bill Denbrough and his friends as usual, which really pissed her off. She stood between the two groups, tired of watching Bowers picking on people all the time.

"I'd walk away if I were you Summers," he said quietly, taking a step towards her.

They were almost nose-to-nose, and she tried not to gag as the scent of his breath invaded her nostrils, smelling horribly like juicy fruit gum.

"I tried to go easy on you and Bill this year because of your brothers, but I won't be this lenient next year." He sneered, and Verity glared at him, not backing down.

"Y'know Bowers, maybe you should just get a hobby," she said lightly. "Seems a lot less hassle to just take up knitting or something, don't you think?"

She heard a snicker behind her, and caught Richie Tozier's grin behind his huge glasses.

"I'm warning you Summers, stay out of my way. Or you'll be very sorry." With one last glance at them, Bowers and his goons sauntered off.

Probably on his way to set fire to a nursing home or something. Verity thought.

"T-Thanks, Verity." Bill said, giving her a grateful smile.

"Yeah," Eddie Kaspbrak sniffed.  "Although we could've handled that on our own."

"Clearly," Verity said, watching as the sorry group collected themselves. She turned to the remaining boy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.
"Alright there, Stanley?"

"Fine," he muttered. "We should probably get going anyways." He motioned to the others, before they gathered their bikes and made their way up the street.

Verity shrugged, then began the walk home.

-

"Mom, I'm home!" Verity called, kicking the door shut behind her.

She heard her mother's footsteps on the stairs, grinning as her face came into view. Juliette Summers smiled at her daughter, her wan face lighting up.

"How was the walk home, my love?" she asked, hugging Verity tightly.

"It was okay," she said lightly, following her mother into the kitchen. "I took the shortcut so it didn't take that long."

Juliette nodded, her eyes clouding over slightly, and Verity knew that she was thinking of Isaac again. Ever since the death of their son, she and her husband had become more protective in their grief, abiding by the town curfews and making sure their remaining child was safe at all times. 

"Mom.." Verity said softly, her face falling. "It wasn't your fault, okay? No one could have predicted what happened."

Juliette nodded, but she could hardly speak as the tears streaked down her pale face.

The sound of the front door shutting drifted down the hallway, snapping them out of their reverie.

"Hello my girls‐" Charlie Summers stopped short at the sight of his wife's tears, his smile crumpling like old paper. "Oh, Julie," he said sadly, moving to comfort the sobbing woman.

Charlie looked at his daughter, his expression telling her that he'd handle it from here.

Verity stepped back, retreating out into the hallway, feeling sick in the pit of her stomach as she heard her father begin to cry.

She had never seen a man cry before, especially not her father, who had always seemed so strong in her youth, a man who carried his family with love and loyalty. But now here he was; face set in a mask of anguish, shoulders shaking, and it frightened her, frightened her more than she could say.
Turning away silently, she began to creep up the stairs, feeling wretchedly helpless.

-

Later that night, Verity sat at her desk, deep in concentration. Her trusty Canon T80 lay across from her. It was her most prized possession, and had been given to her by her grandfather.
She could still remember the first ever photo she had taken on it. A snapshot of Isaac, chocolate all round his mouth, grinning happily. It was tacked above her desk, looking over her belongings with his trademark crooked smile.

Her heart ached as she looked at it now, a pang going through her. Her feeling of loss never went away; instead it hid under the surface like a splinter, painful but always out of reach.

In great need of a distraction, she opened the envelope containing the newest set of photos she'd gotten developed. The school's darkroom gave her the perfect opportunity to develop them herself during the school year, but for the next couple of months she'd have to pay to get it done in town.

Fanning the photos out before her, she admired her work. They ranged from planned photos to candid ones, and she was proud of how they'd turned out.
Wait a second..
She studied a particular one, showing the town hall.
What is that?
In the corner of the photograph, there was - A clown? She frowned.

It was half-hidden behind a tree, but she could still make out it's leering grin. Probably just someone who thought they could hide in the photo for a joke. Verity thought, yawning.
In bed that night, she couldn't shake the weird feeling after seeing the clown. There had been something unsettling about it.

As she sank into sleep, she had no idea who, or what the figure in the photograph was.
She also had no idea that when she checked the photo in the morning, the clown would be gone.