@avaoakley wants to float! 🎈
Everyone knows the Oakleys are trash. A small town breeds even smaller-mindedness. Teachers talk behind the backs of their hands in the lunch room, parents and former babysitters alike have their own theories and conclusions. But right now, none of that matters. No, all the matters is that awful screaming in the next room. The raised voices that bleed through the walls like a bad smell.
Here they are under the bed, hiding, but the world seems indifferent to their presence. The clown's chuckling comes from a dark space in the corner where the bedpost meets the wall. That darkness grows and grows until it is cavernous, large, and gaping like a yawning maw. The eyes are what are seen first, hooded by a shadow that has no natural light source. They are yellow, almost golden, and one starts to drift off as if attempting to escape the clown's skull.
"----are we hiding, Ava? Is it a game?" The clown whispers, and there is a sense of childlike whimsy to IT. The voice is softly spoken, airy like IT is speaking to someone who could break at another loud noise. So few times does IT appear to Ava as a friend. Or at least something like one.
This image is shattered when IT opens its mouth, showing rows upon rows of teeth so numerous and sharp they look like the edge of a serrated blade. Despite this, the voice doesn't change. It is still beseeching, calm, present. "----should I go seek?" IT asks, vying for her reaction.
