It is. Though it doesn't have to try very hard. People would — it had a hold on Derry. Like poison. It's not just some slobbering beast, it's a goddamn cosmic blight. It fucks with your head in more ways than one.
Sure, the murders made the local papers, but the news stopped there. Nothing ever made it national. Nine, ten, eleven dead kids? More? All ripped apart with no lead on the case? That should make national news, but it never did. Not now, not in '59, not in 1930-whatever, or any time before. Every twenty-seven years or so, the whole town takes on this stupor, and it's been doing that since the first stupid pilgrims set foot in that valley.
[Richie takes a thin inhale.] And there were times when you could be crying for help, and all the people around you would simply look the other way. Can't explain it themselves. Didn't seem like big trouble to them, not until it's too late. The last day there...the place looked like a ghost town. Just the seven of us and Henry Bower's gang. It didn't want an audience so everyone just became busy.
no subject
Sure, the murders made the local papers, but the news stopped there. Nothing ever made it national. Nine, ten, eleven dead kids? More? All ripped apart with no lead on the case? That should make national news, but it never did. Not now, not in '59, not in 1930-whatever, or any time before. Every twenty-seven years or so, the whole town takes on this stupor, and it's been doing that since the first stupid pilgrims set foot in that valley.
[Richie takes a thin inhale.] And there were times when you could be crying for help, and all the people around you would simply look the other way. Can't explain it themselves. Didn't seem like big trouble to them, not until it's too late. The last day there...the place looked like a ghost town. Just the seven of us and Henry Bower's gang. It didn't want an audience so everyone just became busy.