Disclaimer - I own nothing.
Just a heads up that I haven't read the book, only watched the movie, so I'm not sure how well I've written IT here, but constructive critism is welcome.
It has found its new victim.
She goes by Caroline Davis. The pretty girl with blonde ringlets and deep blue sea eyes, a childish smile always fixed in place like the communal shine of lipgloss. Caroline Davis likes wearing the pretty pastel dresses her mommy makes her, and likes running through the puddles in her shining yellow wellies, with her friend Fred the bear. At six years old, it's not hard for someone her age to find something easily interesting and fascinating. She likes picking up stones and collecting them, she likes running through the trees in her backyard, and she likes taking Fred for walks around the block, much to her mother's anger when she finds her missing from out of the garden.
The dresses are taken from out of her room, the stones she has collected are put into a jar, and mommy takes them away, telling her until she can learn to do as her told, she will not be getting them back. Caroline whines, teary eyed as she begins to have a fit of a tantrum, begging her not to take them away. Her mother shakes her head, scolding her again, but inside, worrying. Twice now, Caroline has run from out of the garden, sneakily moving when her mother turns away from the window for a second, or goes into the other room, leaving her a quick exit to take Fred for a nice walk, yellow wellies on, childish laughter moving through the streets as she gets close to the pavement, splashing through the dirty puddles, Fred smiling with her.
And mommy shouts angrily, giving her a light smack on the bottom, setting off tears and whines, choked up cries and a red blotchy face. Because unlike her mother, Caroline does not know that children are being murdered by some sick, crazy, person. She does not think of anything when one of her classmates at school haven't been in lessons for weeks, because Caroline is too young to understand the evil that has vacated into Derry, the blood that is being shed, and the carnage that is leaving a long trail all over the town. But her mother does. She knows there is some sick, child killer around, and when she finds Caroline missing, no long playing around the tree, her heart melts, fear attacks like a spitting and hissing cobra, and she already starts to fear the worst.
Children are too trusting, naive, and innocent, and Caroline is one of them.
The thick, veil, of grey swirling clouds settle in, mixing, forming, and clashing together like a messed up painting, the light specks of rain beginning to fall, a grumble roar of thunder coming seconds later, earning young Caroline to become startled as she runs through the trees, clutching onto Fred's hand. She hears her mother shouting then, telling her to move inside, and her lip trembles a little.
Not yet she tells her, pleads. Just another minute.
A purse of the lips are given, and her mother sighs, telling her she has a minute and no more. She takes it, and proceeds to run around the trees, telling Fred that maybe later mommy might take her out so they can play in the puddles again. It is their favourite game after all, and Fred smiles as always. And as she moves further down the garden, out of her mother's line of sight, laughing in delight as they race around the trees, the flash of bright colours come, clashing in with the dim greens and browns of scenery, getting Caroline to stop, and even Fred the bear's smile seems to slip somehow. And after shrinking back in fear, a bright, childish, smile breaks out, dimples coming, blue eyes widening with a mixture of fascination, innocence, and a forming curiosity.
The cherry, red, lips are curved back into a grin, a white gloved hand coming up, waving at her. And she waves back, a laugh coming when a bright orange balloon comes from out from nowhere, a long piece of string connected to it. She loves balloons, and she holds out her hand, but doesn't move. The clown pulls a face, shaking the balloon at her. And when she does nothing his smile falls into an upside down one, eyes all sad, getting another round of giggles to come again. She holds Fred up then, clutching him close to her chest as she waves his paw to IT, getting the clown's grin to slap back into place. But Caroline doesn't see the monster underneath the grin, the malice, and the history of sadistic torture it holds. Clowns are funny, and nice, and they tells jokes, do tricks, and sometimes give out things, so Caroline moves forwards a little, hand outstretching for the balloon as the clown holds it out to her.
And slowly she becomes mesmerised, tranced, as she moves forwards, wanting the balloon, wanting to get closer to the clown.
But it all breaks when her mother shouts her name loudly, causing her, without so much as backwards glance, to run back through the trees, forgetting all about the clown as mommy shouts again, only more louder, getting her to pick up her pace, wellies sloshing through the wet grass.
She likes the clown.
He smiles and laughs and does all kinds of neat magic tricks.
A creamy small hand comes over her mouth as she stifles another giggle, cheeks all flushed and hair all scattered and ratsy. He hovers by the end of her bed, and her eyes widen in disbelief as he holds his hand up, rain forming in all different colours of the rainbow, little bright colourful flakes. She bounces slightly on her bed, hands lightly clapping together in pure delight and excitement. And she giggles then, poking out her tongue all of a sudden, getting IT to pauce, a hand closing as the rain does, much to her dismay.
''Tell me, Caroline Davis, do you want to see some more tricks?
She nods her head repeatedly, beaming, giggles forming past her lips. Yes, they're so magic and fun, and she wants to see more. Sleep is no longer needed. All she wants to do is see tricks. He came into her room, hiding in her closet, and he wanted to show her tricks. She loved the clown.
''Say, why not come to the castle?''
She stopped. Castle?
''There's other clowns there, that do all surprising things, and candy, and music, and other children play there, too''
She suddenly breaks out into a smile, clapping her hands again. ''And the balloons''
The grin comes back into place, full of malice, evil, and torture, but her innocent eyes are blind to the danger. ''Oh, yes. All different colours that float all the way up high''
She forget about mommy, and about everything else as she takes its hand, smile forming once again as she looks up into its eyes.
So, I'm not sure how well that was for a first IT fic. I was going to make it much longer, but seeing as it was my first time writing on IT, I decided to make it short. I was going to go into detail about how she died, but I decided not to, just in case some people don't have strong stomachs, hehe. ^-^ Thanks to those who read and reviewed.