run towards something.

      ❛     well, well, well.  you miss the  sign by the door, beeverly?  ❜   voice is laced with venom, dripping with mock interest.  greta takes several steps towards the red head, the distance between the two in the isle closing within a matter of seconds.    ❛     mister keene might not have printed it directly on the sign, but i’m sure girls like you shouldn’t be here.  a pharmacy can only have so much pregnancy tests, right?     ❜

@menstral !

  THEY’RE JUST SITTING  together !      silence far from uncomfortable,    magazines  /  comics spread around them,    beverly’s piercing blue eyes have drifted from the pages of  TEEN BEAT  to pale,  bespectacled face.     she thinks a long time,   eyes squinting with the question :     “  can i try your glasses?  ”

“Man——what’s the fuckin’ point if the chicks aren’t naked? I mean, who actually wants to look at pictures of mostly naked chicks?! No tits, no ass——no fuckin’ nothin’! Jesus!”

YOU   EVER  WANTED  TO  TURN  INTO  A  GHOST   ?         she’ll float  away  in  a  cloud  of  dust   ,  never  to  be  seen ———-    a   whisper   in   the  air .            INVISIBLE  TO  ALL  .        stories  soar  quick  ,  bound  in  contempt  and  child   -   like  play  .        they   hate  her  .   everyone  does  !         scrawled  lazily  along  the  wall  in  the  student  bathroom  reads  the  crude  words        CARRIE  WHITE  EATS  SHIT  .     girls  tease  and  taunt ,     sentences  spat  like venom  .     boys  knock  into  her  in  the  halls  ,       stuffing  obscene notes  in  the  thin  opening  of  her  locker  .   (     *  they  tell   her  things  she’d  never  repeat      )  

 the   kids   think   I’m   funny  ,  momma  .       they  laugh  at  me  !       and  she’ll   look  up   from   table  with  a  startled  wince  ,           as  if  expecting  the  other  girl  to  slam  a  fist  to  her  cheek  .      FEARFUL   ,    wide  eyed  doe  .          now  she  would  blink  ,     only  once  ,      surprise  engulfing  her  ,       along  with  the  worry  .   the  itching  worry  that  this   girl  ,  this  Beverly ,        is  only  playing  one   big  , cruel   joke  on  her  .       like   the  boys  that  ask  you  out  on  a  date ,       only  to  stifle  a  chuckle  as  their  grinning  buddies  watch  from  the  sidelines  .    they  mock  you  .       ❛        really      ?        ❜          voice  is  meek  ,   barely  audible  ,  but  the  soft   /  subtle  smile         (     *  the  smile   you   never  see  .  the  smile  so  rare     )       that  blooms  is  assuring  nothing  but  agreement  to  her  offer  .     ❛          yeah  .   yeah ,   I’d  like  that  .    my   name’s     Carrie  .    ❜

@menstral liked for a starter ! // s.c.

  beverly marsh is a different kind of girl.

  you couldn’t ask him to explain it, because he’d have no words - they’re beyond his vocabulary, lost, meaningless sounds in the world of language and understanding. her radiance transcends everything, and he’s noticed it for a long time - before the school play, when they were cast, long before that. and while he can’t describe exactly what it is, he knows it’s POWERFUL.

  and she’s one of his best friends, so naturally, it isn’t that much of a stretch to ask her to hang out after school. even if he walks from his last class like he’s on some kind of MISSION - even if he takes a few seconds to breathe and collect himself before approaching her. “ beverly, ” he greets, as he hikes up the too-many books he’s carrying under his arm. one of the very few names he doesn’t trip over. “ do y-yuh-you wanna - i m-mean, d-d-do you- ” ( not again, bill, goddamn it. )

     SO MUCH AS A GLANCE   at  stuttering bill & beaverly marsh  said all anyone needed to know.  even a girl so  DIFFICULT  to read on first sight   (  especially in school,   where cool & unbothered stares became her modus operandi  ),    she finds that she likes being around bill    -    around  a l l  the losers but some found a quicker way to her heart.                slim fingers are wrapped loosely ‘round the straps of her bag,   a small spring in her step as she   -   one of hundreds   -    makes her way out of the school,   heading straight for looming apartment.    the girl smiles at the boy when he comes to her    -    “  hey bill  ”   -   is quick  &  soft,    listening contently.     and she’s  patient  with his stammering.    call it  tactless  or  kindness,    she does nothing but  L O O K  at him !      waiting for bill to get the rest out.

    PURE     /     GENTLE  !    blue eyes trace the soft edges of her expression.     ‘ y - you   don’t have to   teh - tell   me,   bev - beverly.    i know. ‘

        NOT THE FIRST TIME. it is not the first time IT has been in her apartment. it is not the first time that IT has peered clear through the walls via those lights deep inside that confining human-like frame to find the girl in her room - like a heat sensor or a radar.  it is also not the first time that IT has tried to take her away ( JUST FOLLOW THE DRAIN ).

        shoulders are slumped , long & lanky arms hanging like those of a ragdoll as IT saunters down the hallway towards the last room.  a DEAD END in a place full of opened doors ( especially when that father of hers isn’t anywhere to be seen ).  but IT stops.  right outside.  face nearly touching the white wooden surface.  close enough so that the blood red markings upon CLOWN face are nearly projected onto the surface.  a funny little voice with a twinge of joy tied in , “ HELLOOO ? ” hand raises , fingers curled into knuckles.  three raps upon the door. “ KNOCK KNOCK. ”

HE IS NOT PRONE TO THESE OUTBURSTS     but pure rage sends stuttering boy into a quick pace,     hands dancing against a gentle breeze,     vocals tremor and spittle flies from his lips.     he has been targeted by a bowers lackey,     and at his feet,     SILVER     lay.     the wheels of the great beast have been flattened by tacks.     he’d caught victor criss pressing them in,     and the peroxide blonde had dashed away laughing,     likely to meet bowers and the others.

the audience to his anger consists of only beverly,     but tall boy takes no prisoners.     ‘ WHA - WHAT   A   BAH - BAH - BASSSSTARD ! ‘     so upset that eyes remain dry despite the ache in his chest.     he struggles to get the words out,     allowing sneaker clad feet to work out the aggression.     finally,     grace fails him,     and he stumbles.     a loud,     sort of shrill cry tears through him and he kicks the dirt before plopping down next to ginger girl.

                                   ‘ i - i’m   sssss - sorry,    beverly. ‘     comes meekly.     cheeks are flushed,     but he seems to calm,     staring out into the trees with cloudy blue eyes.     ‘ how   w - ah - was   your day ? ‘

                                                                  @menstral liked !