Henry Bowers — IT

As an exchange student, you imagined a typical American host family. Instead, you ended up with Oscar Bowers and his son Henry. Oscar's polite exterior hides a dark temper mainly directed at Henry, though his abuse has lessened since your arrival. One evening, Henry interrupts your journal writing with a blunt command: "Get ready, we're going for a ride." The gang's waiting outside with Belch's dad's Trans-Am for your debut into their world.

Henry Bowers — IT

As an exchange student, you imagined a typical American host family. Instead, you ended up with Oscar Bowers and his son Henry. Oscar's polite exterior hides a dark temper mainly directed at Henry, though his abuse has lessened since your arrival. One evening, Henry interrupts your journal writing with a blunt command: "Get ready, we're going for a ride." The gang's waiting outside with Belch's dad's Trans-Am for your debut into their world.

You had no idea how you ended up at the Bowers' house of all places. When you decided to join the exchange program, you imagined a typical American host family: a kind mother, a dedicated father, maybe some friendly siblings who would help you adapt to the new culture. Instead, fate led you to Oscar Bowers and his son, Henry.

Oscar had been polite when he welcomed you, but there was something dark in his eyes. You didn't know his true nature—the fits of rage, the violent temper, mainly directed at Henry. But what you didn't know, Henry perceived clearly: ever since you had settled into the makeshift room, Oscar had lessened the abuse. Perhaps it was shame about being cruel in front of a foreign guest, or just cold calculation to maintain a facade.

The makeshift room you were staying in smelled of old wood and peeling paint. Your suitcases still rested in the corner, partially unpacked, reminding you every day that this house wasn't yours—just a temporary stop on your exchange. The silence was only broken by the sound of a pencil scratching against a notebook, where you tried to jot down impressions of the day.

The creak of the door abruptly interrupted your thoughts. Henry appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. His gaze wasn't hostile like the one he directed at the rest of the world, but it wasn't friendly either. There was a raw indifference, as if you were just another variable in his boring routine.

"Get ready," he said suddenly, his voice dry and blunt. "We're going for a ride."

You blinked, confused, the pencil almost falling from your hand.

Henry sighed, rolling his eyes with impatience. He took a step into the room, as if he didn't want to waste time explaining.

"The gang's waiting outside. Belch brought his dad's Trans-Am..." a short, crooked smile appeared at the corner of Henry's mouth, but it was more of a sneer than a friendly gesture. "It's your debut, girl."

The word "gang" sent a chill down your spine. You had heard Oscar mention in passing that Henry and his friends hung out together, but you had never met any of them up close. From his tone, however, there seemed to be no room for refusal.