CHAPTER 2
ooii.
FRANKENSTEIN, WHERE DID YOU GO ?

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MY EYES SCANNED the rows of milk that were kept refrigerated. I slowly walked down the asile of milk, spotting the Low-Fat Milk carton. Grabbing the carton I headed down the aisles once again. This morning I woke up to a milkless fridge and as for my father, he was already gone for work. Taking the responsibility I decided to go myself.

I stopped in front of the shelves with loads of candy, descending from chocolate to rich goods and sweet smelling Licorice. My mouth had slightly watered from just a simple and smell. But the voices in my head reminded me of the small pocket change I had. I knew I wouldn't have enough. Maybe next time. Trudging along the aisle, I held onto the carton tight with my left hand, my right touching the sling carrying my camera.

With it swinging each step I took I finally stood in front of the cashier. An older women stood before me, stocking the piles of cigarettes behind her. I cleared my throat for the women's attention. She snapped her head and gave a small smile.

I paid for the small carton of milk, bidding a quiet 'have a good day'. I headed out and towards my yellow and bright bike, dropping the milk inside the small basket.

I headed down the same streets once again, the wind blowing through my hair. I peddled faster so the moment wouldn't end. As I traveled down the roads I closed my eyes, as if I could already tell where I was going. I've seen these streets everyday and I could name all of them if I were asked where to go. Never had I become lost within the neighboring sidewalks and houses. I felt the weight of everything that seemed to be dragging me down slowly release as I was now able to breath.

As I felt the wind around me, I could close my eyes and imagined myself within a cloud of comfort. That was, until I opened them. Slowly opening my eyes I nearly snapped out my daze. I abruptly twisted as I pressed the handle brakes, my heart leaping as I saw the figure across from me. Skidding to a stop, I heaved out a heavy breath I held in. Pushing a hair behind my ear I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks as I blushed with embarrassment.
You nearly ran somewhere over, you idiot. Next time, try to keep your eyes open.

With apologies already barring my mind, I took a glance to the unknown stranger. They too seemed to be out of breath, their back towards me as they evened their breath.

"I'm- really sorry with what happened. I-I wasn't paying any attention. I should've kept my eyes.. open." I shakily said, my words turning into a quiet mumble. I nearly smacked the top of my head for sounding ridiculous.

"I-I-It's fine. I should've watched where I-I was going." I could tell who it was without even looking. I knew that voice. I knew the stuttering.

"It's fine, Bill, honestly. It was my fault." I said, sending an apologetic smile. I wanted to just turn away on my bike and run. I wasn't very good with confrontation, I never was. I never knew the feeling of getting to meet someone at the park, or the lunchroom in school. Although the silence between us was more welcoming than anything.

"Where you going in s-s-such a h-hurry?" Bill asked.

I felt jolted from the sudden conversation, letting out a small nervous sigh I held in. Normal conversation, okay. I can do this.

"My milk," I said shakily. "I-I don't want it to, get spoiled."

Bill softly smiled, glancing behind him before looking at me. "I'm actually m-m-meeting up with my friends. D-D-Do you maybe wanna co-me?"

I felt shaky, nervous that I was talking to a boy that I couldn't speak normally around. I wanted to say yes, but in the heat of the moment I couldn't think of something cool. "I should really get this milk to my house. I-uh- maybe.. next time?" The voices in my head screamed at me to take the chance. To take the experience of what I've know I wouldn't be getting back. This is your only chance. And you're wasting it because of a carton of milk?

With a quick of a head shake, he hopped onto his bike. "I'll s-see you around M-Mo-net?"

Without a word being spoken I nodded my head. Awkwardly, he sent a small hand wave in my direction before turning around and riding in the opposite. As his back turned and he slowly disappeared I could feel the sadness bear on my shoulders. I felt the anger that boiled within my stomach as I let a shot go to waste. Turning back around, I headed to where I came back from.

The ride back home wasn't as pleasant as I thought it would be. It all turned to crap when I nearly killed Bill. But it wasn't his fault. Throwing the bike onto the small patch of grass, and the now warm milk in hand, I trudged my way up the stairs, turning the key into the lock as I headed into the empty house. I walked into the kitchen, my eyes darting towards the full bowl of food that belonged to Frankenstein.

Swiftly putting the milk into the fridge I stood in front of the cat chow that hadn't been touched. With scrunched brows I called Frankie. I walked around the house calling for him some more, and making sure the spots he loved the most were clear. No sign of him in any, surprisingly no where near the corner of the couch either. Except of course the small dust bunny that needed to be swept.

Passing by his small bed, no imprint was left. Heading into my father's room I checked the closet. To a surprise, no Frankenstein was found digging within his shoes or clothes.

I thought of another place he may have been, one that I initially dreaded going into. How ironic was the fact that I actually didn't want to go into my room? With the events of last night, memories flooded back as I felt the shiver run down my spine.

With the small sleep I craved and had to give in, it all seemed... like a dream. Like the scene with the unknown wasn't real. Yet with the whole experience, I couldn't help but feel the same chills I have had before. Opening my door, no sight of the family cat was to be seen. Taking the photo I'd taken of the precious animal, I headed out the door with my camera. Running to the porch, I called the name one more time. With no luck, no grey furball came walking to my feet.

Panic filled inside me as I wondered where the cat may have run off to. Pushing the picture into my pocket, I headed onto my bike once again, peddling down the roads as I constantly called for one of the friends I only had. Someone from their house had decided to water their flowers, water gorging out as they pointed it towards the beautiful dandelions. Taking my picture out, I headed over to the stranger.

"Uhm, excuse me? I-I can't find my cat, and was wondering if you've seen him?"

The man had stopped the flow of water, taking a glance at the small picture held in the shaking of my hands. Shaking his head, he lopsided a smile. "Sorry, Miss. Haven't seen him. A couple of kids rode their bikes down these streets though. You may want to ask them."

Nodding my head, I thanked the older man. Heading down the streets again, I looked around the smallest places I could find. Nothing to be too obvious. As I dreaded the moment to see my cat laying dead on the road, I shook away the thought. He's fine. He's always fine. He's just... strolling. With no sight of anyone else, I roll down the street of Neibolt Street. I slight chill was added as I biked down, calling out to Frankie as I looked around.

With the hope that I held onto desperately, I knew I wasn't able to do this alone. Slowly peddling with a weight to my shoulders, my head gazed over to the broken down house that came into view. Stopping in front of the 'demonic' looking house, I felt the rising spark in my stomach. An eerie feeling was felt as my gaze became longer as I kept examining the house within the minutes that passed. With each second that passed, more of the feeling of wanting to get out of there became present.

With not a hesitation, I started to kick up the speed I stopped at. But, with just small gust of wind that whispered near my ears made my eyes widen. With my heart thumping against my ribcage, I listened carefully to the soft voice that almost unbearable to read.

"Monet. What are you doing out here? Where you off to?"

The same voice from before. The same voice from last night. The voice that came from the clown. As memories began to flood back, the voice within my head became louder and louder. But, no sight of the clown was seen. I wanted to ride away. To just peddle away from the problem that caused all of this. But that wasn't how it worked. Running away wouldn't fix the problem.

"Come inside, Monet. Walk right inside. Someone might be waiting for you. Or should I say... something."

It's taunting voice for me to follow it inside the house made my blood ran cold. I had no energy to move from my spot as the creaky door slowly opened to reveal the worn out clothes from before. The tattered clown suit that stuck with dirt and grime. Again, with no face shown, a singular balloon was held in front of the viscous face. I could feel my mouth widen in horror as I nearly screamed for myself to move forward. What are you doing? Don't just stand there, ride away!

My hands shook as my legs felt wobbly. Within the seconds that passed by I know I would fall. My knees would lock an second and I would have worse chance of making it out alive. With the rise of the ballon, the same white face stared back. Its held, titled low, began to smile with the devilish grin again. Its eyes yellow and red eyes were filled with a feeling I couldn't make out.

With the large lump in my throat, everything seemed to be dizzy. I didn't know what it wanted with me, or why, but it wasn't anything good.

"Where you going, Monet? Where you going? Would you like a balloon? Are you searching for something? Can I help?"

With each word spoken, its head would constantly twitch. A home chilling laugh escaped the dark colored red lips as I couldn't take the sight anymore. With instant energy, I pushed myself through the streets, peddling faster and faster as I didn't dare to stop my pace. With a quick glance back, no sight of the evil clown were to be noticeable. With no hesitation, I heaved faster.

Was there in no way was I going back there. Not alone, at least. But, as I thought of the ways I could explain the events to my father, he would think I'm crazy. That I lock myself into horror movies too much. Or that I think of the most outrageous dreams I've had. No doubt in my mind that my father wouldn't take me seriously. I couldn't have been the only one. Could I? I wasn't the only person in Derry to see this psychotic clown, right?

Or, maybe, I was going crazy. Maybe my mind has slowly churned the nightmares that I've feared into reality. Maybe I was just seeing things. Maybe, after all, I was what people actually saw me like in school. Needing to shake that thought away, my mind travelled to the image of my cat. Crazy clown can take its time and wait. Frankenstein can't. Don't worry, buddy. I'm coming for you.

Hello again!

So first off I just wanted to say thank you guys so much for the votes and comments. Ya'll are seriously making my day considering I have a really high fever and haven't gotten better within the past three weeks.

I would like to know what you guys think of Monet? Is she like-able? Is she somewhat kinda like you guys? I really wanted her to be an outcast. Something that everyone isn't. She isn't the strongest, and really an introvert, which really explains me, so I hope you guys like her!

So, what did you guys think of the chapter? I've actually written more Pennywise moments that I thought would. But, I think it all nicely fits in together so far. Poor Frankenstein though, out in the poor world.

Anyway guys, make sure to comment below what you thought about the chapter and vote!