𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞

𝟐𝟒.

Mike Wheeler

I decided that sending the letter would be dumb and I should just tell him in person that I'm sorry. That's why I'm at the front door of the Byers' house, hesitating for a little before ringing the doorbell.

No answer.

I ring it again, but nothing happens.

Will Byers

I peer out of my window and freak out when Mike is at the front door.

No way I'm opening that.

If I do, then we're gonna talk and I'm gonna end up forgiving him, which I don't want to do because what he said was way out of line.

Yeah, only because it's true.

Shut up.

I'm really glad that El is sleeping in the other room, otherwise she would probably end up opening up instead and the inevitable would happen. I slowly exhale and grab a comic from my desk, laying down and opening it up to read. I need a distraction.

Mike Wheeler

I sigh in defeat, accepting that he isn't home.

Or he's ignoring you.

No he's not. You know what- maybe he's at Castle Byers.

I shove my hands back into the pockets of my coat before heading outback in search for the den.

Instead, I'm met with all of the wooden planks broken and on the floor, all of his drawings and photos wet and ripped up everywhere.

My mouth gapes in shock as I view the sight in front of me and my heart sinks, knowing that I'm the reason for this.

Why do I have to be such a fuck up?

I slowly approach the huge mess to get a better look at it, analysing the things about it I can fix.

Okay, okay, it could be fine.

I nod my head before heading back to the neighbourhood. As I emerge from the side of the house, I'm surprised when Mrs Byers gets out of her car and looks at me. I assume she's returned home from work considering her black blazer, blouse, pencil skirt and high heels.

"Michael?" She stops in her tracks, catching me off guard further. "Do you need something?"

Uhhh...

"Actually um- yeah. Will likes to draw, right?" I pause to take a deep breath. "Do you have some of his work saved? In a binder, maybe?"

Of course she does- he loves to draw and it'd be impossible for the art in Castle Byers to be all that he has.

. . .

"Okay so these are the drawings that he made when he was 5-12. Feel free to just take a look." Mrs Byers tells me, handing me the binder.

"Thank you. It means a lot."

"Of course. Do you want me to make some tea for you?" She offers, but I shake my head.