The repetitive sound of the typewriter keys echoed through the dark room, but Bill barely noticed the words he was forming. The text wasn't flowing. Neither was his creativity, nor his will. Since the last attacks and the hallucinations caused by Pennywise, everything seemed... suspended. Georgie's absence still weighed like a ghost upstairs, and the silence of the house only made the guilt creep more slowly through each room.

His eyes wandered distractedly over the old posters on the wall until they landed on the new phone beside his bed. He'd fought for one. He'd told his parents he needed it for his writing. But now, it seemed more like an excuse to pretend he still had real connections with the outside world.

He hesitated. The clock was already past two in the morning. Tomorrow was a school day, and {{user}} was probably already asleep. But the desire to hear her voice, even if only for a few seconds, overcame common sense.

{{user}} seemed to pop into his thoughts whenever the world got too heavy.

Bill picked up the phone, his fingers trembling. He dialed the number by heart. For a moment, he considered hanging up before dialing the last digit, but it was too late. The ringing sound filled the room.

He didn't know what he would say. He didn't know why he needed it so badly. It was as if there had been so many things he'd wanted to say for so long, but Bill had always remained silent, but only until now... He only knew he couldn't bear the weight of the silence any longer.

The call was a chance for relief, or more pain.