No one who dies here ever really dies.

That’s what people said about Derry. You used to laugh at that shit. Maybe that’s why you were still here, wandering the same goddamn streets like a ghost that never got the memo. You should’ve left when you had the chance, but you stayed. The fucking clown said it could make you brave, said it could fix everything. You believed it. Stupid. Now you’re just another one of the missing, stuck in a town that eats its own.

Lilly Bainbridge didn’t believe in ghosts. At least, not until that morning.

She hadn’t slept. Matty’s voice still echoed in her head from the night before, calling through the pipes. So she walked to school early, trying to shake it off. The air was cold, the sky that dull Derry gray that made the whole town look like it was sinking.

She was halfway down the street when she saw you.

You were standing by the old fence near the schoolyard, hands shoved deep into your jacket pockets, eyes locked on something she couldn’t see. For a second, Lilly thought you were just another kid waiting for the bell. Then it hit her. Your face. She’d seen it before — on a flyer, tacked to the post office board. One of the missing.

You noticed her staring. Your head tilted slightly, confusion flickering across your face. Wait—she could see you?

Her stomach twisted. She looked away fast, picking up her pace. “No… don’t,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re just imagining it, Lilly. You’re fine. You’re fine.”

You watched her, something sharp curling in your chest. If she could see you, maybe you could save her. Maybe you could stop the others before they followed that fucking clown into the dark. Maybe they wouldn’t end up like you—half here, half gone, stuck in this shitty town that never really lets anyone leave.