-Trigger Warning: Child abuse

January 9, 1989

Most kids hated going back to school after Christmas break. But not Mandy Marsh. In fact, school was probably Mandy's favorite place in the world...not that she would ever admit such a thing to anyone. At school, she could be the person she wanted to be without too much repercussion. She could have friends. She could feel safe. She didn't have that at home. It wasn't easy to lead a double life, but that was the lot Mandy Marsh had been dealt in life and she knew how to play her cards to her advantage.

Mandy was up before her alarm even sounded that morning. She tiptoed across her cold bedroom floor to the window. It was snowing. It didn't look like there was enough for a snow day. She hated snow days. Most kids loved snow days, but not Mandy. Snow days meant that she was stuck at home with an unwritten list of chores a mile long to accomplish before her father got home from work. No, she would rather be at school. But there was another reason for that. Mandy smiled to herself thinking about it.

So, she turned on the radio to listen for any school cancellations. With her eyes closed and fingers crossed she chewed on her bottom lip in hopes that Derry hadn't closed. The voice on the radio announced only one school closing due to a water main bursting and it wasn't Derry. Mandy did a little dance, knowing she was likely the only person celebrating that school wasn't closed before she turned the radio off and raced to the bathroom.

She was careful to skip the squeaky floorboard, knowing better than to wake her father at this hour. There was a time when Mandy hadn't thought her father too bad, but that was before her mother died. While things hadn't been too bad for her then, she did have distinct memories of her father hitting her mother while she and Beverly held each other in another room. Sometimes they were even in the same room. And once her mother had died, her father's rage had to turn somewhere. Naturally, it turned to his daughters. Neither Beverly nor Mandy was exempt and both girls had their own way of dealing with it.

Mandy locked the bathroom door behind her. She leaned against it in silence, listening to make sure she hadn't woken her father. After nearly a minute of silence, Mandy breathed a sigh of relief and readied herself for the day. Once her teeth were brushed, her face was washed, and her hair braided, she went back to her bedroom to dress.

After rummaging through her drawers for the perfect outfit, Mandy finally settled on a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, warm socks, and a light blue sweatshirt. Clothes were scattered about her bedroom, hanging from her bed and in piles on the floor. She didn't have time to refold everything. But she also couldn't just leave them there. Mandy looked over her shoulder. The door was still shut.

She pulled the bottom drawer of her dresser open before she began shoving the clothes beneath it. There was an opening at the bottom of the dresser with almost enough space for all the clothes she had taken out. When that became stuffed, she shoved the drawer back in place and looked for other hiding places. The few remaining items, she flattened beneath her blankets or shoved in her pillowcase. This trick had worked several times before and she hoped that it would work again. Mandy took one last look around her room. It looked clean enough to pass her father's inspection. So, she headed to the kitchen.

The bathroom door was closed as she made her way to the kitchen. Mandy hadn't heard the door to the bathroom close, meaning it was Beverly in the bathroom, not her father. Her father always clomped down the hall and practically slammed the door shut. That was if he even bothered to shut it.

Mandy looked down at the clunky yellow watch on her wrist. She slightly grimaced. She should have paid better attention to time as she was dressing. Mandy hoped that she wouldn't pay for her error later. If her father could just get up five minutes later than usual, she would be fine. While Mandy had never stepped foot inside a church in her life, she said a silent plea to the powers that be that she wouldn't get in trouble.

Once in the kitchen, Mandy immediately started making her father's morning coffee. There just needed to be enough for one cup before he got down. Quickly, she threw the old coffee filter and grounds in the trash. She put a new filter in the coffee maker and grabbed the Folgers from the cupboard. Mandy put a scoop of the coffee grounds in the filter. Then she scooped just a little more in. Her father always said she made the coffee better than Beverly. The extra little bit was her secret. She filled the water and pressed the start button, willing the coffee to be made quickly as she heard her father's groans echoing through the house.

She didn't have time to sit and watch the coffee. No, she still needed to make her father's breakfast and lunch. It wasn't that he ever asked her to do so, but she knew that there would be hell to pay later if she didn't. Not to mention that the morning started better if she did so. Mandy wished that Beverly would have figured this out and helped her, but she didn't.

Two pieces of bread were put in the toaster. Four more pieces of bread were taken out so that Mandy could make two turkey sandwiches. She went to the fridge and took out the cottage cheese. Mandy hated the stuff. It looked like vomit to her, but with a look of disgust on her face, she dished some out and put it on the kitchen table. The toast popped up. Mandy buttered it and put it on the table along with an empty bowl, a spoon, the milk bottle, and the box of Special K.

Mandy had barely gotten the coffee on the table when her father walked in looking rather bedraggled. "Morning, Daddy," she said offering him a forced smile.

He said nothing and took a sip of his coffee, the rest of the pot still brewing on the counter. Mandy held her breath, waiting for him to start yelling. But he didn't. He set the coffee cup back on the table and took a bite of toast. Mandy released the breath she had been holding and went back to making her father's lunch. Perhaps there was some sort of higher being out there. Either that or for once in her life, she got lucky.

With her father's lunch packed in his cooler, Mandy finished getting ready for school. She pulled on her winter boots, shoving the red Converse sneakers Beverly had stolen for her Christmas present in her backpack. She would put those on once she was at school. With her hat, mittens, and jacket on, she grabbed her backpack and headed for the front door.

She reached to open the front door when her father's voice called, "Manders, whatcha doing?"

Mandy closed her eyes as chills ran up her spine. Manders. She hated that nickname. Her father was the only one who ever used it. She opened her eyes and turned her head over her shoulder. "I-I was going to school, Daddy," Mandy called.

"Come here."

Dammit, Mandy thought. She was so close. She had to go to him. It would only make things worse if she didn't. The longer she waited, the worse it would be. So, she sighed and took her backpack straps in her hands before walking back to the kitchen.

Her father was sipping his coffee as Mandy stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. He looked at her. Eyeing her from head to toe and back up again. Mandy hated his scrutinizing glances. But she knew better than to react. If she reacted, then it would be worse. She forced her face to remain blank.

"You're forgetting something," her father said.

Mandy's heart began to race in panic as she mentally went over her checklist for the day. Brushed her teeth? Check. Brushed her hair? Check. Got dressed? Check. Made her father's breakfast? Check. Made her father's lunch? Check. Her breathing began to quicken. She couldn't think of anything she had forgotten. But sometimes he just expected her to be on top of things without even knowing what the thing was.

With terror in her eyes on the brink of tears, Mandy looked at her father. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy," Mandy stammered.

He just chuckled and tapped his cheek. "Didn't think you could leave without giving your daddy a kiss did you?"

Mandy's heart skipped a beat in relief. At least he seemed to be in a good mood over the matter. Normally, he didn't chuckle about things she forgot. It was usually far worse than that.

She didn't want to kiss him on the cheek, but she knew what could happen if she didn't. So, she quickly walked to her father's side and brushed her lips against his cheek. Mandy went to pull her head away, but her father's hand gripped the back of her head, holding her in place. She froze. Maybe she wasn't getting away unscathed.

"Be a good girl, Manders," he growled.

"Yes, Daddy," Mandy whispered.

He released his grip on the back of Mandy's head and patted her cheek twice.

Mandy took this as her cue to leave. So she did.

The walk to school wasn't particularly pleasant. Most folks hadn't yet shoveled the sidewalks. Thankfully, it wasn't too chilly outside and school wasn't that far away. It was better to brave a little cold and snow than to spend more time in that house and wait for her father to drive her. They lived too close to school for her to take a bus. So, walking was the safest option. It wasn't so bad most of the time.

By the time Mandy made it to school, her cheeks were bright pink and her nose was numb from the cold. Mandy took her mittens off and cupped her hands around her mouth and nose. She breathed into her hands to warm her face before she made her way to her locker. Mandy opened her locker. She pulled the boots from her feet and tossed them in the bottom of her locker before she put her Converse sneakers on her feet.

"You could have waited for me, you know," a voice said from the other side of her locker door.

Mandy knew it was her sister without even looking. "I didn't know how long you were going to be," Mandy said as she began to reorganize her locker.

"You could have, you know...asked."

Mandy shrugged her shoulders.

Beverly poked her head around Mandy's locker. "What did you want to get to school so early for anyway?"

Mandy stopped what she was doing and looked at her sister pointedly. She opened her mouth to respond, but Beverly quickly cut her off.

"And don't give me any of that, I like school or I missed school shit."

"Well, that's the truth. So I guess I have nothing to tell you," Mandy said rolling her eyes.

Just then, Mandy caught sight of Bill Denbrough and it suddenly felt like her face was on fire. Bill hadn't been to school since October. He had been sick and then his younger brother had disappeared. He had gotten even sicker trying to look for his brother. His parents had made some sort of arrangement with the school that he would return for the second semester.

Mandy tried to busy herself once more with her locker. Beverly looked over her shoulder and turned once more to her sister, laughing. "You've got to be kidding me," she laughed. "Still?"

"Yes, still," Mandy muttered rolling her eyes once more.

"You've liked him since what, third grade?"

"Shut up," Mandy hissed at her sister until they were almost nose to nose. "He'll hear you."

"Well, it's about time he figured it out then," Beverly laughed.

"Just drop it. Please?"

Beverly chuckled and backed away from her sister. "Fine. I won't say anything...yet."

Mandy threw her head back and groaned. Sometimes sisters could be so annoying. Mandy watched as Bill stopped at his locker, which was across the hall from hers. She chewed her bottom lip as Bill's friends approached him.

"Could you be any more obvious?" Beverly whispered.

"I'm not being obvious," Mandy hissed back at her sister.

Beverly rolled her eyes. "I need a smoke," she told her sister. "You want one?"

"You know I don't," Mandy snarkily replied.

"Fine, more for me then." Beverly shrugged her shoulders and walked away, most likely heading for the bathroom.

"Yep," Mandy muttered to herself. Sometimes it was hard to believe that she and Beverly were twins. In many ways, they were quite different. While Beverly dealt with the home situation by smoking and sometimes acting out, Mandy took the people-pleaser route. She did everything she could to be perfect. To do things right. Beverly was an average student. Mandy was the overachiever. Mandy was involved in extra-curricular, Beverly wasn't. Yet they were connected by blood and each was the only one the other could relate to at home.

The bell rang. They had five minutes to get to homeroom so that they could get their new schedules for the semester.

Thankfully, her homeroom was just down the hall. She was the second one to arrive in the classroom. The teacher wasn't even in the classroom yet. Bill Denbrough sat in the far corner of the room. Mandy walked across the room and sat down in the desk beside him.

"Morning," Mandy greeted.

"M-m-morning," Bill stuttered back.

Mandy smiled and nervously moved to tuck her hair behind her ear, but it was already pulled back in a braid. Feeling rather stupid, Mandy tugged at her braid. "How are you?" she asked, immediately regretting it. That was a stupid thing to ask. What if he thought of Georgie? He didn't need that his first day back at school.

"G-good. M-m-my m-mom said to s-say th-thank you f-for bringing me my h-homework."

"You've already thanked me like a thousand times," Mandy said, exaggerating it a bit. She offered him a smile and he smiled back. While Bill had been out of school, Mandy had volunteered to walk to his house after school every day to bring him his school work for that day. It wasn't only her crush on Bill that made her volunteer. It also delayed her going home. Killing two birds with one stone.

Mandy wanted to say something more to him, but she couldn't figure out what else to say to him. So, she sat there in silence beside him as the classroom continued to fill with more kids. Bill didn't seem to mind. He just sat there, staring at his desk. Today was going to be hard for him. If only they knew that in comparison to what lay ahead of them in a few months, today would seem like a cakewalk.

Author's Note: Another plot bunny has escaped! Oops! But it got me writing, which has been a struggle with my anxiety and depression. So, if it's a plot bunny I write, then it's a plot bunny. At least I'm writing. Thanks to anyone who encouraged this. I hope you like it! :)