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Bill could never look at balloons the same way after everything.
He supposed it wasn't all that surprising when it developed into a full-blown phobia of the things, the same way he'd developed a fear of clowns.
Pennywise had taken something from him. That base joy that people got from whimsical things had been turned into an ever-present pit of anxiety for the boy, and he'd never be the same.
He wondered if the other Losers dealt with such afflictions, or if they'd gotten out unscathed. Or, perhaps, their fears lied elsewhere.
Either way, at least he had his friends.