It was 1986,
and after a tragic accident, you moved back to your childhood town, Hawkins. However, it was not as you remembered it. The small town wasn't the same after you left when Will Byers returned from the dead. You and the people you meet alo...
"I'm good! Thank you for helping me last night. I obviously cannot control my liquor," you laughed, feeling embarrassed.
"Hey, it's okay. It's my fault for having liquor out on a school day. I learned my lesson," He confessed.
"If it were not for you and Nancy taking care of me, then I wouldn't be here right now." You said.
"Look, I would do it all over again if it meant one of my friends was okay." He said.
He called you a friend.
"Thank you." You said, smiling at his kind remark.
"Take care of yourself, y/n," he finished taping you on the shoulder.
"I'll try."
He walked off into Mr fisher's science class.
And you walked in the opposite direction.
He acts so maturely. Why does he genuinely care for me? I barely know him.
Finally, you had managed to make it through all the "are you okay?" concerned but rhetorical questions and could focus on your work.
You sat in history class, trying your hardest to pay attention. You were looking forward to the blackboard in front of you.
"Alright. The Renaissance period. Who can tell me what Renaissance means?" Mr. Yang spoke, pointing to the board in front of him.
You had a pencil in one hand, jotting notes beside you. Writing down everything he was writing down because it most likely be on the exam.
You looked at the board and then at your notebook. Then at the board again. However, his writings were getting blurry.
Am I going blind, or is he drawing something?
You squinted your eyes to see the board.
I can't see.
And your vision worsened.
Why can't I see the board?
You began to rub your eyes for clarity as you started to panic. It wasn't working.
Then suddenly. You weren't in class anymore.
"Eddie?"
Why is he with a cheerleader? Is this a dream? Did I fall asleep in class?
You saw him start to scream as you looked at the cheerleader's body break itself. Her eyes suck into her skull.
What is happening!?
You stood there as your body froze. Starting at the glorifying image in front of you.
"Ms y/l/n"
What?
"Y/l/n!"
Mr. Yang, the history teacher, began calling your name.
"Are you paying attention?" he said as you saw his face glare at yours as he pointed at the board. Everyone was staring at you.
Oh no.
...oh no.
"Y-yes." You spoke, still in shock was you had witnessed a second ago.
You kept telling yourself it was a dream. You were convinced you dozed off and fell asleep in class.
That's it. That's got to be it. But. It felt so real.
The fact is, you had seen this "cheerleader" before, walking in the hall. She looked completely normal.
Why am I dreaming about her? With Eddie.
The end of the day rolled around, but the nightmare kept playing in your head. The mind was weird like that.
It was a nightmare. I need to think of something else.
You started your car and made it back to your house. However, there was this deep sadness clinging onto you in your chest. You wanted to reach in and yank it out of you.
You walked in to see your grandmother sitting at the kitchen table.
"Hey, hun! How was your sleepover!"
Oh right.
"It was great. I had fun!" You said.
"Your father called this morning." She further continued.
Great. Dad.
You still didn't forgive him for leaving you here. You held anger and sadness against him. Even though he thought it best, you believed you two could have made it work. You could've gotten a job and helped. But he's stubborn.
"What did he say?"
"His work is giving him some trouble, and he said you might have to stay here for a little while longer."
Sadness grew on your face.
"I wish I could see him." You sighed.
"None of this would have happened if mom were here." You started to choke as tears began to form in your eyes.
"I know, sweety. Your father is doing everything he can."
"Obviously, it's not enough," you mumbled and stormed out. Leaving your grandmother behind.
"Oh Hunny-" she started to say, but you went into your room.
"Let it go dear..." you heard your grandfather say as you shut the door behind you.
You stayed there for a while on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to relax and forget.
You were angry. Angry because of everything that had to happen. Mad because you couldn't be with your father when you needed him the most.
Why me?
Why is life so cruel?
Tears now streamed down your face as you lay there. Memories and thoughts kept flooding your head.
I need my mind to relax. I need to forget.
You got up, pulled out a vinyl, and placed it into your record player.
Again, you returned to your bed as the record played, staring at the ceiling.
This isn't working.
You looked around your room for something else that might be useful, but your eyes stopped at something.
Your poster.
Of Van Halen.
He could help.
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