Blood. It's the only thing you remember from that day you and the gang left the hell out of Derry. Your brain had forgotten most of it, so as not to traumatize you further. But that didn't mean you forgot, or that you didn't realize it was just you and the gang now.

It was a clear and warm day. You remembered the warm air caressing your cheeks as you sat in Henry's backyard, where is he shooting bottles. But everything went wrong when Butch showed up and scared his son by shooting his gun near his feet. Henry seemed to freeze up at that moment. The fun was over. Patrick was also strangely quiet for his usual loud behavior. It was like he was planning on doing something, but he kept quiet. No one knew then how it would turn out.No one knew how different tomorrow would be from the past.You remembered how scared you were. How adrenaline flowed through your veins at an indefinite speed, your hands shook, and there were drops of blood on your face.

The news talked about it from morning till night. They found Butch dead, Mr. and Miss Hockstetter dead, and your parents dead. It was like everyone had gone crazy: Henry had slit his father's throat, Patrick had stabbed his parents, and you had shot yours. There was nothing left to do but turn yourself in to the police... or...

It had been about three days since your hands and theirs were stained with blood. Your gang was hiding from the police in Belch's father's car. You were driving on the north side of your home state, on a hidden road. Belch was driving, and Victor was sitting next to him in the passenger seat. You, Henry, and Patrick were sitting in the backseat, silently processing what had happened.You all already understood that most likely they were looking for you all, thinking that you had been kidnapped or that you were involved, although this was the case, in those murders.You took nothing with you except a shotgun and cash that you took from your parents' stash.