𝟐𝟖.

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Sun. 29th December 1985 | 12:22pm
Mike Wheeler

I guess you could say I've been feeling much more at ease ever since I told El that... well- yeah. I actually never saw it coming - hearing it from her first. It's definitely a relief, to say the least, knowing that someone else accepts and understands me. Of course, I'm grateful that my mom accepts me as well, but realistically, she can't help that much. I mean- that's not entirely true since she's the one who encouraged me to talk to Will in the first place but that's not the point I'm trying to make. I suppose I'm just really grateful for both of them.

I scowl at my dad through his mirror as he tightens a black tie against my collared blouse, inhaling chokingly when he presses it further into my neck.

"Dad- you're choking me."

"Yeah, well it has to be tight."

"I literally know how to tie a tie." I roll my eyes as he releases his hands from the black fabric.

"Your multiple dresscode violations say otherwise."

Why does he always have to be right.

"Okay but that's on the school for not appreciating my effort to dress up." I say, turning to my dad with an ironic smile playing on my lips. He chuckles softly.

Besides, why is it that every time I do it for Will, it stays tight for the whole day? It has nothing to do with me, just my 'luck'.

"Okay, well I'm going to make sure everyone is ready, and then we'll get going." He leans in to kiss my forehead. "I'm sorry, son. I know how close you both were."

Shit...

A lump forms in my throat when he says that, endless waves of guilt flowing through my body. I know that Troy wasn't a really good guy, but I feel bad for not being there for him because I can't imagine how much he probably went through. Maybe I'll convince Hopper to tell me more soon.

. . .

"... and how someone so young could leave us without managing to say goodbye..."

I sit a few rows away from the dark oak large coffin with my fingers interlocked against my thighs, half-listening to the priest's eulogy, and half-just generally thinking about Troy.

This was all your fault.

Are the words that play in my head on repeat. It's true. All of this was my fault. Hopper telling me that I was mentioned in his diary confirms it.

Tears well in my eyes as I internally probe the facts further, trying my hardest not to draw attention from the people surrounding me.

"Raise your hand if you have words that you wish to speak on behalf of Troy." The priest's voice becomes completely clear again, and I raise my hand before realising that I do. "Michael. Please, join me." He smiles softly at me and I return it before getting up and making my way to the alter.

"Right, so... Hi, everyone." I say, earning bright grins from the girls my age scattered around the church.

Okay...?

"I didn't prepare a speech, but for one reason." I pause for a moment. "I kinda wanted to see how genuine and natural the flow of my words are. I guess I can't really reflect that when it's scripted, right?" I rhetorically ask.

A sickeningly awkward silence emerges from the shadows for a few moments before I decide to just get straight to the point.

"Troy wasn't perfect. He was far from perfect." I shift my gaze from person to person. "Nobody is perfect though. So I suppose we can't really blame him for the ways he wronged some people because... well- I'll be the first to admit that we all commit unexplainable acts sometimes." As I say that, I notice Will and the rest of the Byers sitting in the back row, watching me.

Since when was Will here?

I meet his gaze and drown in his hazel eyes for a few seconds, snapping back to reality and averting my attention from him before people start to notice, and then the rest of my friends from different rows catch my eye. Dustin. Max. Lucas. El. They all came. Something I never thought they'd do, because they didn't know Troy like I did, with the exception of Lucas.

I turn my attention back to the rest of the audience.

"But he was also compassionate, ambitious about the things he wanted and possessive over the people he loved. Though it was displayed indirectly, I know how much I meant to him and he knew how much he meant to me. He was one of my first friends when I started elementary school. There was a boy I met in kindergarten- it was too long ago to remember his name, but he didn't end up going to the same school as me which kinda sucked, but that's besides the point. I felt so alone that whole day and all I could think about was how much the school year would suck because I'd be friendless. But there he was, Troy Walsh. Sitting pitifully on one side of the playground seesaw. The deja vu I was getting was immense. That boy from kindergarten was alone on the swings, and I just asked. I asked if he wanted to be my friend. Same as with Troy - except that time, I got lucky."

Will Byers

I knew it. I god damn knew it.

From the first day I laid eyes on that ravenette, I had a feeling that I'd seen him before. I didn't really know how I did but now it all makes sense. Except, that time at kindergarten was before his dad took over Hawkins, and he wasn't famous back then which is what made me doubt my thoughts.

Sure, he forgot my name, but I can't help the vicious butterflies swarming in my stomach to the thought of remembering me after so many years. I mean- he doesn't know I am the boy so I suppose it doesn't really count.

I'm forever going to debate whether to bring it up in the future or not.

"Really lucky." Mike continues. "But in spite of all this... I'll admit that we hadn't exactly been on the same page these past few months before he died." He meets my gaze again when saying that, knowing that he's referring to all of the bullying I had to endure.

I ruined everything.

If it weren't for me coming in the way in the first place, Troy and Mike would've still been good friends before he died. No- he wouldn't have died in the first place. I don't know anything about his home life but things would of probably been easier if he hadn't been abandoned by his friends on top of domestic issues.

Like how Mike and Lucas left him...

For me.

For gods sake... why is it that every single cause for problems have to lead up to me?

Because you're problematic.

Because you're weak.

You need people to stand up for you.

You're pathetic.

I lower my gaze down to my lap, a trickle of water running down my cheeks. My tear-stained face isn't that visible due to my hair covering most of it, which is probably what makes me more surprised when I feel someone's hand on my left shoulder. Jonathan.

I crack a small smile to the comforting gesture, averting my attention back to Mike when my lightly-dampened under-eyes dry up.

"So I guess what I wanted to say with this is... he will be missed. Especially by me. God knows I will be spending many of my days mourning and praying for him. Then- then maybe... maybe he'll have a better afterlife than this one." He exhales shakily after concluding, probably not even having realised how much he was crying during his speech, causing my heart to ache sympathetically.

To Be Continued...

a.n.
I KNOW
no because I'm getting second hand embarrassment from this chapter. I'm not Christian and I literally don't know how funerals work so I literally googled a little bit about it to write this. PLEASE feel free to educate me so that I don't embarrass myself further in the future lmaooo

Anyways eulogy ig

<3

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