#IM MCFRICKT UP

[realfor-blog]

“Shh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream, okay? None of it was real.”

  BREATHS CAME FAST  as georgie hyperventilated -   a nasty habit after all of these tough,  slow going MONTHS.  it was as if he could not drink enough air,  as if he was having trouble reminding himself just WHAT  was real.   hands clutch his brother’s shirt:  he’s holding on to bill desperately,  as if his brother were the only thing tethering to this  earth,   as if he might  FLOAT AWAY  if he weren’t here to calm him. 

 ( it’d been a terrible dream –   his worst dream yet.   pennywise  grabbing his  hand.  pennywise was going to kill him -  he was inches away,  georgie could still imagine the eyes,  the teeth,  could still see the  SALIVA  of a monster  STARVING —   it’d been so real,  he had been there !  georgie had  SCREAMED  in the dream,  begged him to go,  to not touch him,   to leave him alone —–  ) 

and apparently,  those screams had manifested in reality,  as well.  georgie could see the  FEAR  in bill’s eyes: when would this beast leave them alone?  was the deed not already  done?  was georgie not already without an arm,  without a proper childhood?   he curled up into his brother,   as if trying to make himself  SO SMALL  he’d disappear.   he wept profusely,  softly  -  he was so tired of crying.  “it was so real,  bill.”  he whispered wetly; it was always real enough for georgie.   always.   “i- it seemed so real … he was here,  a-and i —”