User:CraftTech/Sandbox

June 11, 1988

You don’t feel like you inhabit your body.

You feel like your mind and your body are on separate planes of existence as you walk up to the front door of the cabin and knock on it.

Your mind is somewhere dark and your body is back on the normal planet.

Knocking on the door makes the small birdy screams start.

You hear footsteps run up to the door and its wrenched open.

Jane looks at you with a frown.

“Marty? Marty what is it –“

“I’m going away,” you said, your voice monotone.

You don’t know where your mind is but it isn’t here.

“Wh – what?” Jane asks, tears coming to her eyes and spilling over, smudging her makeup.

“My dad is sending me away. For the summer. To camp,” you still have the monotone voice.

Jane moves aside and lets you come into the cabin, closing the door behind you.

“Camp?” she asks softly. You sit down, staring in front of you, not saying anything.

“Marty? What’s camp.”

“It’s a place out in some sort of woods or park or something and I’ll have to live in a cabin like this but with a bunch of boys I don’t know and they’ll do ‘character building’ exercises which basically means that they’re going to be disciplining me the whole time,” you say quickly, just staring out in front of you still.

“Why are you going?”

“My dad is sending me. He thinks I need ‘discipline’ but doesn’t want to spend money on a special school for it. Which, really, means he’s sick of having me around, and he doesn’t want to be bothered with me for a summer, and would like to not be bothered with me ever again.”

Everything inside of you is clenched too too tightly.

“Marty…”

“My dad doesn’t want me around. My dad doesn’t want to deal with me,” you whisper.

“I’m sorry, Marty.”

“My dad hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Marty.”

“Yeah, he kinda does.”

“Okay, maybe… yeah.”

The birds are screaming still. And one of them is moulting, so the fluff all over the cabin is getting ridiculous.

You don’t really care.

Except for the coughing, but whatever.

“I hate him.”

“You should.”

“But I don’t want my parents to get divorced.”

“Divorced?”

“It’s when married people break up.”

“Married?”

You’re too tired and too… disconnected from yourself for her questions today.

But you don’t want to hurt her.

You’re connected enough to yourself for that.

“When two people promise to be together forever, like boyfriend and girlfriend together, forever, and go through life together and spend the rest of their lives helping each other and being together. You’ve seen that on TV or in books, right?”

“Yeah, I just kept forgetting to look it up. And I like it when you explain things to me.”

You sit there in silence for a long time.

“Why don’t you want them to get divorced?”

“Because it’ll be my fault.”

“Marty…”

“I’ll be the kid who made them divorce. That’s who I’ll be, forever. That kid. The one who screwed everything up because he couldn’t keep his SELF TOGETHER,” you scream, getting up and kicking the coffee table.

Jane watches you with wide eyes as you keep kicking it.

“I’m – such – a –piece – of – worthless –“ you shout, continuing to kick it as tears fall out of your eyes, hot and wet against your cheek. The birds scream, startled in their cage.

“Marty –“

“I’m awful I’m terrible I’m the reason they’re going to divorce –“

“Marty –“

“Why is this happening? Why is this happening to me –“

“Marty!”

You stop kicking and crying and turn to look at Jane. She’s watching you from the couch.

“You’re not the reason they’re going to divorce,” she murmurs.

“What?”

“They weren’t in love, Marty.”

You’re still disconnected from yourself that you barely really register her words.

“They – what?”

“They weren’t in love,” Jane repeats, “You should get married to someone you love and they weren’t.”

The words are true and they hurt.

They hurt so, so much.

You fall down to the floor and start crying, holding your face in your hands. Jane gets off the couch and holds you, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

“I’m sorry, Marty.”

You sniffle more.

“Why doesn’t my dad want me?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold your face in your hands and cry more and more.

“How long does camp go for?”

“Starts the 17th and goes until August 2nd.”

“So one and a half months.”

“Yeah.”

You look up at her and she looks at you, frowning.

“Can you get through it?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter.

“I’ll try to visit but it’s going to be hard because you’re farther away,” Jane mumbles.

“Yeah,” and your voice breaks.

“Can't you run away and stay here?” Jane asks.

You laugh weakly.

“They’d find out.”

Jane holds on tighter to you and squeezes.

“Please don’t go,” she whispers.

“I have to…”

“If you go I won’t…”

“You’ll have Dustin and Lucas and Will and Max.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll have no one.”

She makes a sobbing sound and hugs you tighter. You both sit there and cry, for a long time, even though you know you should go back home soon.

“Marty?”

You pull away and look at her.

She grabs your hands and holds them tightly.

“What… are you doing,” you frown.

You still are dissociated from yourself so it feels like everything is happening to someone else.

“I promise,” she says softly.

“You… promise what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I want to stick with you forever and help you forever and all that other stuff,” she repeats.

“Wh… what?”

“That married thing. I promise. We’re married now.”

This is so ridiculous you burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Jane, we’re not married now.”

“Why not?”

She looks grumpy.

“Well, to begin with, I have to promise too. And then we have to have someone like, say we’re married. An official guy. And we have to sign a bunch of things for the government, which we can’t do because you are still hiding from them. And we also have to be adults, we’re only fourteen,” you manage to say while laughing, now so distracted from your pain that you feel like you’re two separate people in that moment.

She frowns even more, “That’s stupid.”

“Why is it stupid?”

“Why should we need all of that? Besides you promising too.”

“Because… a big part of it is the government knowing you’re married.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“Why do we need to be adults?”

“Because it’s a big decision.”

“I’ve made big decisions.”

“I… true,” you admit.

“Why can’t I make this one?” Jane demands.

“Because… because grown-ups are stupid,” you say softly.

“Okay,” Jane pauses, “Then we’re married without them.”

“I never promised back,” you say, and now you’re so confused and shocked by what’s happening you’ve separated into three different people –

The Mike who is Crushingly Sad and Lost

The Mike who is Confused and Overwhelmed

The Mike who is Happy and so Ridiculously in Love with this weird girl –

“Well, why don’t you?” Jane asks.

“Because… of all those things I just said,” you admit, “It’s… not something kids do.”

“Well it’s something this kid does.”

You laugh again.

“Are you sure? Forever? Forever is a long time,” you say.

Lost

Overwhelmed

Happy

“Yes, I’m sure,” Jane says firmly.

Sad

Confused

In Love

But she has a point.

She has a very good point.

Are you really going to break up with her, ever?

“Okay,” you hold her hands, “I promise too.”

This is the weirdest thing you’ve ever –

Okay not the weirdest.

But it’s up there.

It’s very very very up there.

“We shouldn’t tell our friends though,” you say softly.

“Why?”

“Because… they’ll think it’s really weird and stupid. And I don’t want it to be ruined.”

“Okay,” Jane nods, “Makes sense.”

You smile weakly at her.

So weird.

You love this weird weird girl.

Jane smiles and nods at you, “And that’s how you’ll get through camp.”

You laugh, before crying again. And you just hold onto each other until you can’t cry anymore.

June 21, 1988

“Hey Jane,” you mutter quietly, looking up at the ceiling of your cabin.

The other boys are out playing baseball or something but you decided to stay inside where you could be alone for at least a few seconds.

“I know you aren’t listening to me… probably… because you’d say hello back. And I’m too far away for you to visit, really,” you continue, “At least for any length of time.”

It’s hot in this stupid cabin and you miss playing Dungeons and Dragons with your friends, or helping Jane read in the cabin, or making homemade popsicles with Anne.

“But only sixty-three days left to go. I know I should change the countdown to when I get out of here, but… we’ve been counting down to the first day of school for so long it feels wrong to change it, you know?”

You let out a long sigh.

“The worst part of this is that you can’t write, because you’re still hiding. I can get letters from everyone else but I can’t get one from you. It’s just stupid.”

You feel so lonely it’s like your chest is crushing in on itself.

Your stomach feels much much much too tight.

You start crying and you hold your face in your hands.

“I hate everything about this place and it’s only day one.”

You sniffle and sit up, staring in front of you.

“it’s boring. All the things to do are sports. And like, other things I don’t care about. And the boys are mean. And the counselors are mean. And I just… miss you so much.”

You let in a shaking breath and try to hold it together.

But you can’t.

“I miss you. And I miss Anne. And I miss Dustin, and Lucas, and Will. And I miss Max. And I miss Steve and Joseph and Hopper and Mrs. Byers. And I even miss my mom a little. And I miss Zayde and Bubbe. And I miss Holly. And I miss just being at home with my things. And I miss your crazy stupid birds. And I miss everything. I don’t want to be here.”

You can’t stop crying.

“I don’t want to be here. I don’t know why my dad sent me here. I don’t want to be here.”

You press your face into your knees.

“I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here.”

You keep crying and hold your face tightly against your knees, so that you’re as compact into this ball shape as you can be.

You just want to make yourself small.

You don’t really want to exist anymore.

You haven’t for a while.

You can pretend you do when you’re with Jane, or your friends, and happy.

But those always ebb away back to not wanting to exist again.

“I miss you, Jane. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.”

You can’t stop saying it, you just rock back and forth and mumble it to your knees.

“I didn’t want to say that ever again, Jane. We had a whole year of this. Worse, because I didn’t know if you were alive, but a whole year. And now I’m separated from you again. I hate this. I hate this. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.”

You miss her.

June 25, 1988

“Care to explain what this is, Camper Wheeler?”

You look up and glare at the Counselor.

You don’t bother to learn any of their names.

“It’s my razor blade.”

You’ve gone back to cutting only your thighs.

Your wrists are too exposed in this heat.

“You don’t have a beard.”

“No, but I have it with me in case a miracle happens over the summer.”

Some other campers snicker at that, but most everyone stays silent.

“Sharp objects are not allowed in the camp.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” you ask dully.

You can always find another way.

You’re innovative like that.

“Well we will obviously have to confiscate this blade,” the counselor says, “And then I believe you should be ordered to run laps around the camp.”

“How many?”

“Oh, until you get tired.”

You frown and go, “No.”

Everyone is completely silent.

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you disobeying a direct order?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say quietly.

You don’t give a shit anymore.

They can do what they want to you.

You just don’t care.

“Fifty push ups!”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“That’s it, you’re being sent to the head counselor’s office.”

You shrug, and walk there willingly, kicking up rocks as you go.

You just.

You don’t care.

And you get yelled at, and screamed at, and it goes on for hours and hours, and they’re going to call your parents, and you’re on thin ice and having privileges revoked, and blah-blah-blah.

You don’t care.

June 30, 1988

“Hey Wheeler, want to go hiking with us?”

The woods remind you of Will getting lost and Jane being found and you searching for Jane every now and then during last year.

You sigh.

“No, thanks though.”

The other boys shrug and leave without you, and you can hear their muttering as they go –

“What a weirdo.”

“He never does anything.”

“Did you hear him talk back to Counselor Yates the other day?”

“Bet he was going to use that blade to hurt everyone in the camp.”

“Yeah! I bet he’s one step away from snapping.”

“No wonder he doesn’t have any friends.”

You listen to them leave and walk back to your bunk, going up into it and pressing your face into the mattress.

You hadn’t gotten any letters yet.

And you know that your friends are busy – Lucas is doing a space camp thing, Dustin’s volunteering at an animal shelter, Will is doing some sort of art-therapy thing, Max is back in California with her dad, and Jane cannot, of course, write.

But Anne hasn’t even written you and she is just doing college prep stuff at home.

So maybe you don’t have any friends.

Maybe the only friend you have is Jane and –

No.

No.

Stop thinking like that.

You have lots of friends.

They’re all just busy.

And they don’t know this is going as badly as it can.

They don’t know anything.

It’s not like you’ve written them either.

You quickly pull out your paper and pen and write as many letters as you can.

You need to hear from them just to get through this mess.

And maybe they can tell you how Jane is doing.

July 4, 1988

“Happy Independence Day!”

“Happy Fourth!”

“Let’s go set off some fireworks!”

“Yeah!”

Everyone’s laughing and talking. One of the other boys comes up to you as you watch everything from the cabin, standing outside of it and leaning against the wall.

You managed to steal some cigarettes and a lighter from one of the counselors, since you still haven’t found something good to hurt yourself with.

So you started to smoke them, and since the counselors were all in a meeting, you were taking the opportunity to do it now.

“What?” you ask gruffly as the boy walks up to you. He’s slightly younger than you, and looks nervous.

“Um… do you want to come play with us all?”

“No thanks,” you mutter.

You don’t want them to just make fun of you.

“Don’t you like the fourth?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

You drop the cigarette on the ground and smash it with your foot, covering it with gravel.

“America sucks and the sooner you realize that the better.”

The boy’s eyes widen.

“Are you a fascist?”

“No, I’m a person who America screwed over. See ya,” you say angrily, walking away and through the woods.

Yeah, it reminds you of shitty stuff, but at least it reminds you of home.

And you don’t have to listen to these idiots praising your shithole of a country.

A country that enslaved countless people and killed the people who originally lived in it.

A country that did scientific testing on young kids and then killed anyone who tried to help them.

Shithole.

You walk to a clearing near the camp and sit down on a rock, smoking another cigarette and just staring out into the sky.

July 2, 1988

These letters are a lifeline.

Dear Marty,

Enclosed is a letter from Jane. Don’t worry, I didn’t read it. I’m glad you liked my idea of me sending you her letters. I know you need them. I’ve been doing okay. As you know things have been better for me since Barb’s funeral. Joseph and I are doing well. He’s nervous about college applications next year. I’ve talked to Scott some, too. He’s… nervous because he’s training to be a police officer. Things are still kind of awkward but I’m dealing with it. Mom and Dad are still fighting, but now it’s not about you, so I hope that helps.

Love, Anne

It does help, if only a little bit. Mostly it just hurts that you being gone doesn’t make things better.

Dear Marty,

I love you. I visit you sometimes but I can’t say much. I’m glad you heard me that one time though. I love you. I’m bad at writing. I hope you can read this. I love you. I’ve been practicing more and more though. I’m scared of school. I hope I do well. Hopper thinks I can do this and I believe him. I love you. Eddie and Chester are doing well. They’ve finally stopped moulting and the cabin is clean again, and they are flying all around. I love you. Please don’t hurt yourself too bad.

Love, Jane

Each I love you is like a stab to the heart, but it reminds you that you have her, still, and she’s alive and this isn’t like last year at all.

If only you could remember that for long enough to not start to flash back –

And panic –

And feel like you were in the past again…

Dear Marty,

Space camp is the best. I wish your dad had sent you to this with me! I miss Max and everyone but man I’ve made a lot of friends. They like DND and Star Wars too. And we can do things like pretend to be astronauts and learn about going into space! You know, I hope one day I can go into space. That would be neat. And better than, like, fighting Demogorgons. I’ve been thinking about what I want us to do when we all get back and I think we should have a really long campaign. You in?

~ Lucas

You are painfully jealous of Lucas.

Dear Marty,

Hope you’re doing okay! I’m really bad at writing letters but I love art therapy. I’m supposed to just draw things that reflect my moods and to let out my pent up emotions about stuff. So I’ve included some drawings I’ve done just for you! They’re of some of the scary stuff we saw last year but I think you’ll still like them. Oh! Jonathan says hi. He’s doing work so he’ll have some money saved up for college. Mom’s really hoping he’ll get to go to NYU! Man next year’s going to be hard. Well at least there won’t be any monsters!

~ Will

You wish you could believe Will.

But the fall approaches ever faster and with it reminders of the past two years.

Of Will being lost.

Of Demogorgons.

Of trying to keep Jane safe.

Of Will having now-memories.

Of giant tunnels.

Of Bob buying.

You’re reminded to say a single mourner’s Kaddish and you do so quickly.

Dear Marty,

Okay so important: animals are the best but what is the best GROUP of animals? I personally think its reptiles. No one else agrees with me and it’s a BUMMER. But! This means that whenever someone drops off a reptile to the animal shelter I GET TO TAKE CARE OF IT! No one else wants to! Ha! They’re all fighting over the dogs and the cats and I GET TO HAVE THE SNAKE ALL TO MYSELF! His name is Percival. That’s such a great snake name it’s fantastic. Steve is super nervous about training he talks to me about it all the time. He’s getting better at it though and he passes all of his practice tests! I can’t wait for him to work with Chief.

~ Dustin

You can practically hear Dustin’s excitement, even from all the way over here.

Dear Marty,

California sucks. I thought I liked it better but I guess I don’t. I like having friends more. Sorry things suck for you as much as they suck for me. Summer won’t last forever though.

~ Max

That letter is so Max it’s practically comedic.

You write replies back to everyone and reach into your bag. You finally managed to grab a counselor’s razor the other day and you quickly go to work on your thighs, before bandaging them up.

You then go outside and smoke, watching as other campers are all talking by a campfire. You know you can’t be seen where you are, hidden amongst the trees.

You don’t even really care if something, like a bear, could catch you.

You’d probably just let it.

July 7, 1988

“Ha ha! Ha! I’ve got Wheeler’s le-tters!”

“Give them back!” you shout.

“Look, this one’s from his giiiiirlfriend,” another camper teases, holding up Jane’s two letters and laughing. Everyone laughs with him.

“Bet she’s even weirder than he is!”

“Give them back!”

“Is your girlfriend some sort of goth chick?”

“Oh oh! I bet she’s a murderer or something!”

“She totally wears only black clothing right?”

“I bet you just made her up! You probably have one of your nerdy friends write as her so you can seem cool.”

“Give me back my letters!” you scream.

“What are you going to do?” an older camper asks, looking down at you. He’s big and burly and reminds you of how much High School is going to suck.

“You don’t want to know, just give them back,” you hiss.

The camper grins, and then starts to tear one of the letters. You scream again and dive at him, knocking him to the ground.

“Ow!”

You wrench the paper from his hands and stuff them into your pockets. You then tackle the other boys and grab the papers from them, too.

“What is going on here?”

You wheel around on your heels to see a Counselor walk up to you all.

“Wheeler just tackled me, sir,” the other camper says.

“Oh did he?” the Counselor asks, glaring at you.

“They stole my letters,” you mutter quietly.

“What letters?” the Counselor demands.

You pat your pocket, because you don’t want to lose them.

“He’s lying. Those are my letters,” the camper says.

“No! They’re for me,” you snap.

“Oh yeah? Prove it,” the camper laughs.

“They’re addressed to Marty –“

“I’m Marty.”

You feel your heart clench in your chest.

Damn your parents for giving you a common name.

“They’re from my girlfriend Jane –“

Everyone bursts into laughter.

“Kid, do you really think I believe you right now?” the Counselor asks.

You reluctantly pull out the letters and show them to him. The counselor reads them over and frowns.

“Seems these are for Wheeler.”

You breathe with relief.

“But clearly they’re causing problems.”

Your heart clenches tightly.

“If everyone is going to be fighting and causing a ruckus over these letters then I have no choice but to destroy them –“

“NO!” you scream, and you tackle the counselor now too, ripping them from his hands and backing away.

Everyone looks at you like you’re a wild animal.

Is this what Jane feels like all the time?

Shit you’re going to give her all the hugs.

“Wheeler,” the counselor pants, “You’re in big trouble now.”

You follow him, but he doesn’t go to the head. He goes to your cabin and starts going through your belongings.

“Wait, what are you doing –“

“Aha!”

The counselor pulls out your cigarettes, lighter, and razor.

“Knew it.”

“What –“

“These are my friend’s fags, dumbass. And lucky for me you keep your weapon next to them.”

You watch him in horror.

“You’re getting it now. Come on.”

The counselor grabs you by the neck and drags you across the camp.

It hurts so much.

You just want to die.

Die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die…

You’re sitting in front of the Head Counselor again for what feels like the millionth time.

“He’s been smoking cigarettes, Mr. Parker, sir, and he has this razor. I feel like he’s going to hurt another camper with it. And he tackled another camper to get his letters back,” the counselor explains.

“Hmm.”

You don’t look at Parker, you just look away.

“Your father mentioned you are a handful of trouble.”

You look up at that, glaring at him.

“We’ve been acting accordingly when we have ‘special case’ boys. Watching you, seeing how you interact with the other campers, how you lash out at the counselors. But you have shown no improvement.”

You shrug.

“You seem to have no respect for authority.”

“Well, authority doesn’t respect me.”

Parker glares at you more.

“Young man, I think you should spend some time in isolation to think about your attitude.”

You shrug.

Whatever.

You’re isolated anyway.

The counselor throws you into a room and you sit there, staring at the wall across from you.

In the beginning you revel in not having to talk to anyone or deal with anyone else.

But soon you really want a smoke.

And soon after that you really want to cut yourself.

And soon after that you’re trapped in your own thoughts again.

Trapped trapped trapped trapped –

You are awful.

No one wants you around.

You’ll never be able to relate to other people.

Because of the Upside Down.

And everything that happened.

You’re always going to be weird and angry and unapproachable.

And no one will ever want to become your friend.

And eventually your friends will all leave you because they’ll be able to move on.

But you won’t be.

You’ll never be.

Maybe Jane won’t move on but what kind of person are you to drag her into your shit of a life?

It isn’t fair to her.

She deserves to be happy.

You can never be happy.

You’re going to feel this way forever.

You’re useless.

And terrible.

And awful.

And you should die.

Cutting yourself isn’t enough of a punishment.

You should just be dead.

Dead dead dead.

Couldn’t save Will – Jane did that.

Couldn’t save Jane – Hopper did that.

Couldn’t save anyone.

Nope.

Awful.

Awful.

Awful.

Awful…

July 30, 1988

You’ve never fasted on Tisha B’Av before.

It was a thing grownups do, and you consider yourself to be a kid, still, even after you became a Bar Mitzvah.

But you figure, camp food sucks ass anyway, and you don’t have many other ways to hurt yourself anymore now that they took away the cigarettes and your razor.

So you sit in your cabin and you don’t eat.

No one talks to you. No one approaches you.

Everyone thinks you’re dangerous because you punched out another camper again and pretty much everyone is avoiding you so you don’t “snap” and kill everyone.

Not that you actually would.

And you hate yourself so much for reaching this point that it’s time to fast.

It’s time to think about how your people are doomed to suffering.

Doomed to losing the temple, twice.

Doomed to exile.

Doomed to persecution.

Doomed to death.

Doomed.

And so are you.

You know that this is wrong, logically. You know you’ll be okay when you get out of this camp, and even though terrible things happen, you’ve always been able to get through them – with your friends, with your sister, and of course with Jane.

But it’s hard to make that stupid spiral shut up.

And honestly, the longer you’re on your own, the harder and harder it is.

So you sit.

And you fast.

And you stare out the window.

And you wish you could go back in time.

October 6, 1988

You can’t believe you failed your damn history exam.

You’re so screwed.

You study all the time – by yourself, with Jane, with the whole party – but you just don’t have the mental presence.

You can’t concentrate on anything because your parents won’t stop fighting.

Today is no exception.

You can hear their dulcet tones through the walls of the house as you stare at the little “53%” on your history exam. You get up and creep towards the door, walking outside into the hallway to listen.

“I WILL NOT TAKE IT DOWN, THEODORE!”

“IT’S AN EYESORE!”

“DO YOU WANT TO BE DIFFICULT? IS THAT WHAT THIS HAS ALL BEEN?”

“MAYBE I THINK OUR KIDS HAVE SCREWED UP PRIORITIES!”

“YOU KNOW WHO’S PRIORITIES ARE SCREWED UP, TED? YOURS! YOURS ARE SCREWED UP! YOU CARE MORE ABOUT YOUR DAMN PEACE AND QUIET THAN OUR KIDS –“

“MAYBE I DO! MAYBE I GO TO WORK ALL DAY LONG SO THAT I CAN HAVE A LITTLE PEACE AND QUIET –“

“YOU AGREED! YOU AGREED WHEN WE GOT MARRIED –“

It hurts to listen to this.

You grab your history book and run downstairs, escaping out to the hut outside the house. You dive into the sukkah and start studying, highlighting the words on the page.

It’s comforting to be outside. The hut is spacious enough, and there’s a table and chairs for when you all eat dinner and breakfast out there, and you like to hear the birds chirping around the hut because it reminds you of the cabin.

Of course, you can’t focus on Ancient Greece basically at all, because you know they’re still screaming and yelling inside, and even though you can’t hear them anymore doesn’t mean it isn’t still weighing on your mind.

“Hey.”

You look up to see Anne.

“Hey,” you greet softly.

“Can I come in?”

“It’s your sukkah, too.”

“Fair enough,” Anne agrees, walking in and sitting across from you.

“Mind if I work on some applications?”

“Not at all.”

You both work in silence together, the sounds of highlighters and scratching pens filling the air and mixing with the tweeting birds and dimming of the sky. Anne lights some candles so you can keep working, now crickets filling your ears quietly.

“How goes history? You have Miss Ford, right?”

“Yeah,” you mutter.

“I didn’t have her but… Barb did. Barb hated her.”

“Yeah she’s a piece of work,” you sigh.

“Are you keeping up with it okay?”

“Not really.”

“Oh no…”

“I did fine on the first test but the second one I failed and I’m not sure how I’m going to pull myself up from it.”

“Have you told mom and dad?”

“Not yet.”

“Well you can pull yourself up from one failed exam. I know you can. You’re smart.”

“Thanks… how go applications?”

“Oh geez why do we need to talk about them.”

“I had to admit I failed a test.”

“Fair enough. They’re awful. I wish I was just accepted already.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.”

“In a better world…”

You laugh with her and it makes you feel a little better.

After some quiet working later, you look up to see your mom coming into the sukkah. She brings a bowl of spaghetti and some plates.

“Thought I could find you both out here.”

“Mom?” you ask in confusion.

“It’s dinner time. Help me set the table.”

You and Anne help immediately, not saying anything as you set everything out and Mom dishes out some food. Holly follows her out there, bringing silverwear for you all. The four of you sit around the table, and Mom mutters a blessing over the food and for eating in the sukkah.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Dad?” Anne asks quietly as Mom starts eating.

“Your father will not be joining us tonight,” Mom says brusquely, “Now, come on, eat up.”

Anne and you look at each other for a minute before digging into the spaghetti without further comment.

“So, Martin, how is school going? Better than last year, I hope?”

“Uh… in some ways,” you answer honestly.

“Well at least it’s not worse?”

“In a few ways,” you say softly.

Your mom frowns at you, “Like what?”

Dad isn’t here, so you swallow and try to pull yourself together.

“Um. History is really hard for me.”

Your mom puts down her fork and looks at you seriously.

“Martin, you can tell me. I’d rather you did.”

You nod, grimacing.

“Um… I failed my last test.”

“Did you fail your first test?”

You shake your head rapidly.

“Alright. Well there’s still a lot of semester left, and I will help you whenever I can, okay?”

“Wait… you’re not going to yell at me?”

“You clearly look upset about it enough as it is,” Mom sighs, “So I don’t think yelling would do much good. Your father isn’t here… and we’ll just keep this between all of us, okay?”

You are so confused.

Mom… isn’t yelling?

You don’t… have to tell dad?

What… is happening?

“Are your other classes going okay at least?”

“Um, yeah. I’m doing well in biology and Spanish and English. Math is hard too but I’m not failing it.”

“And gym?”

“Gym is alright. Kind of rough sometimes…”

“Well, our family was never very gifted at athletics,” Mom smiles, “You know, when I was in school, I tried out for the cheerleading team –“

“You didn’t,” Anne gasps.

“I did. And they laughed at me so hard I wanted to die of embarrassment right then and there.”

“What happened after that?” you ask quietly. Holly is not really paying attention to the conversation, just eating quietly and wiggling her head back and forth in happiness.

“Oh, nothing really. Your Bubbe comforted me, reminded me that it’s not the end of the world, and then I went for the debate team instead. Kind of hard to argue whether or not not making the cheerleading team is the ‘end of the world’ when your parents are holocaust survivors.”

You can’t help it, you snort. Mom laughs with you.

“If we don’t have humor we don’t have anything. But one failed history test isn’t the end of the world, Martin. You can do it.”

You nod, and smile at her weakly before eating more.

You wish that would have shut up the voice in your head telling you you’re utterly doomed.

October 5, 1988

“Ugh, I can’t stop coughing,” Dustin groans.

The entire party is sitting in the living room of the Byers house. You have a big biology test the next day and this was the natural choice for studying – Joseph and Anne were out, the other houses had distractions (whether it be the birds at Jane’s cabin, your fighting parents at your house, Erica at Lucas’ place, parents fighting at Max’s house, or cats and Dustin’s mom constantly showering you all in baked goods at Dustin’s).

“Dude just have a mint or something.”

“I’m coughing out a lung and you are suggesting a mint?”

“Fine, two mints.”

“Oh my god –“

“One day Lucas and Dustin will stop bickering like an old married couple,” Max snorts, eating popcorn and flipping a page in her biology textbook.

“We aren’t married,” Dustin protests.

“Dude, we’re a little married,” Lucas jokes.

“Oh my god –“

Jane writes something down on a piece of paper. You look over at her and frown.

“What are you writing?”

Jane raises an eyebrow at you.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Curious. We’re not studying right now.”

Jane shows you her notebook. In big, scribbly letters it says NUMBER OF TIMES DUSTIN SAYS “OH MY GOD.” Underneath it is a tally, and you can see twelve marks.

You burst out laughing.

Jane can always cheer you up.

“Wait, what? What is it?” Dustin demands.

“Nope. It’s a secret,” you snort.

“Oh come on man – “

“It’s not for you!”

Jane holds her mouth behind her hand and laughs more while Dustin pouts.

“Oh my God!”

Jane writes down another tally. You roar with laughter, holding your stomach as you do so.

“That’s it –“

Dustin chases Jane around the room and she screams, running away quickly. Dustin chases her and she locks herself into the bathroom.

“Great, now none of us can pee. Good going Dustin,” Max sighs.

“Want me to kick his ass for you?” Lucas offers.

“Like you can kick Dustin’s ass –“

“I can too!”

“I’d honestly need to see some proof –“

“That’s it, this is happening.”

“Guys, can we just get back to studying biology?” you groan.

“Yeah,” Will agrees.

“Fine,” Dustin groans, “Jane, come out, I’m not going to take the notebook.”

Jane comes out, glaring at Dustin. Dustin makes a move to grab it anyway and Jane flicks her head, sending Dustin back onto the ground.

“Ow!”

“Friends don’t lie,” Jane says, sticking her tongue out at Dustin and skipping over to sit next to you. Dustin sighs.

“She’s right. You should apologize,” Lucas snorts.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry,” Dustin says.

“Thank you. You’re still not getting the notebook.”

“Ugh.”

“Right, so mitochondria –“ you say, loudly.

You can’t afford to be failing this class too after all.

It’s science, it’s your best subject.

You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be –

“It’s the powerhouse of the cell,” Dustin says firmly.

“Talk about the stupidest summary I’ve ever heard –“

“You know what, maybe we should all just study on our own!” you shout angrily. Everyone looks at you, worry etched on their faces.

“Mike?” Jane asks softly.

“I can’t focus with you all goofing around all the time!”

“Sorry man. We’ll be more quiet,” Dustin mutters.

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees.

“Thank you,” you grunt angrily, burying your face in the book and trying to focus.

Everyone studies silently for a little while, the only sounds being that of pens and pencils on paper and highlighters against textbooks. You manage to focus and study organelles for a long time, but you can smell Jane’s sweet scent, and hear Dustin tapping his fingers against te table, or Will tapping his pencil against his lips, and it is all very distracting.

And then Dustin starts coughing again.

“Oh come on!” you shout.

“Dude, I can’t – cough – help it!” Dustin protests.

“Yeah, Mike,” Jane murmurs.

“I can’t hear myself think when you do that!”

“I would stop if I could!”

“Argh!” you shout again, gripping your hair tightly in your hands and trying to pull on it.

“Woah woah woah –“

“Mike take a deep breath –“

“It’s okay, it’s okay –“

“Maybe you should go home and just try to study alone –“

“Guys give him space – “

You take a deep breath and stop gripping your hair, looking over at Jane as she frowns at you with worry.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“It’s okay,” she whispers back, though you can see she’s trying to not cry.

“Um… maybe you’re right. Maybe I should head back.”

“Totally understandable,” Will says reassuringly. You nod at him and frown.

“Wait… I was going to help you study –“

“It’s okay man, we have half a year until my Bar Mitzvah, it’s late anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, man,” you mutter quietly. Will nods at you and you get up, packing your books into your backpack.

“I can come with you…” Jane mumbles.

“Um… no, it’s fine. I know you wanted to ask Lucas some questions and I don’t want you to do badly because of me,” you mumble back.

“But –“

“Seriously, Jane, it’s okay. I promise.”

Jane looks upset, so you lean down and kiss her softly before leaving, going out to your bike and peddling back to your house.

Inside, for once, it’s quiet. You creep upstairs to your room and sit down with your book, trying to study.

You manage to do it for a little while, studying about organelles and the nucleus and everything else in the cell, but your thoughts are too jumbled.

You remember Jane’s face when you left the house.

Stupid.

Stupid selfish idiot.

Stupid selfish worthless idiot.

What is the point of you if you’re not around to help her get through it all?

Why does it matter that you’re struggling? You can figure it out. It’s her first time at school.

Stupid worthless piece of shit Wheeler.

Worthless, awful, horrible, waste of space and air and food Wheeler.

You start crying and you hold your head in your hands, just sobbing into your arms as hard as you can. You still can’t hear anything in the rest of the house – perhaps your family is actually out of it for once?

You pull out a cigarette from your nightstand and light it, taking a deep breath of it and blowing out the smoke for a long time. It brings you some relief from the crushing weight in the pit of your stomach, but you still can’t escape the thought spiral – if anything, the rush makes it tighten.

Piece of shit.

Awful.

Worthless.

Terrible.

Stupid.

Waste of Space.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself –

You finally grab the razor and just drag it across your wrist without thinking, letting it dig deep into your flesh. You remember how it stung so bad the first time you did this.

Now you can’t imagine going that shallowly.

Blood rushes out of your wrist and you wrap it up with a bandage from under the bed. You tie it tightly and take a long, deep breath.

That’s the third time today, though the other two were actually at school, in the corner of a bathroom stall where no one could see.

But you haven’t told Jane.

You don’t want her to know there’s a problem.

O C T O B E R  1 3   1 9 8 5

You have another history test and you can’t stop freaking out.

The words and the dates and everything swim in your head and you don’t care about Ancient Greece enough to actually pay attention to it and you can’t study and you can’t stop freaking out and you can’t calm down and you’re going to fail again you’re going to fail again you’re going to fail again you’re going to –

“Mike.”

You look up at Jane. She’s trying to help you study.

She has a black eye from where she got into a fight with someone who was making fun of you during lunch and he hit her and she made him fly back against a chair and when the teachers asked she just said that she pushed him and now she has detention and you really had to stop letting her do these things for you it isn’t safe it isn’t safe it isn’t safe it isn’t safe it isn’t safe it isn’t safe it isn’t –

“Mike!”

You shake your head rapidly and groan.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry –“

“Mike, deep breaths.”

You try but you can’t find your lungs.

“Mike!”

You aren’t even really looking anywhere you can’t really put your thoughts with what you see and everything is spinning everything is spinning everything is spinning –

“MIKE!”

She’s shaking you.

This finally pulls you out of your thoughts.

You look at her and pant, trying to not freak out again. Her eyes are staring deeply into yours and it snaps your brain back to the present, back to the brown in a sea of black eye make up and pale skin apart from the shiner.

You breathe in.

And Out.

In.

And out.

In.

And out again.

In.

And out.

And in.

And out.

“Okay. Mike. It’s going to be okay,” Jane whispers.

“No –“

“Yes.”

“How can you know?”

“I can’t.”

She looks sad to be saying it.

“Then why say it?”

“Because thinking it won’t be isn’t going to help anyone, most of all you.”

You nod, and you start crying again, holding your face in your hands tightly. Jane pries your hands away from your face and you look at her in shock. She leans over and kisses you on your nose, and then on your eyes, smudging the tears that are hanging there. You squeak in surprise at this, your heart pounding rapidly as you look at her.

“Jane – what –“

“Shh,” she whispers, and she kiss you softly, making you squeak again. You kiss her back before you can stop herself, and your worries float away up into the sky above…

“Better?” she asks quietly. You nod rapidly, your eyes wide.

“Much.”

She smiles weakly at you and sits back down, pulling out the history book.

“Come on, let’s study more.”

“Jane… Jane I’m so scared.”

“I know, but you can do it. You’ll be fine.”

“No I won’t –“

“Yes, you will!” Jane shouts, looking angry now. You swallow and nod.

“O… okay.”

“Sorry,” Jane mumbles, “But we have to study.”

You nod again and lean over the book, trying to focus on dates and information, but it’s still swimming.

“Hey.”

You look up at Jane again.

“What?” you mutter quietly.

“Do you want to quiz each other?”

“I don’t think I’m at that point yet.”

“Neither am I. We can struggle together.”

You smile weakly at her, “Thanks, Jane.”

“Alright, so,” she holds up her book and frowns, “What is the difference between Corinthian, Doric, and Ionian column?”

“Uh… I don’t know…”

“Alright well Doric are kind of tapered at the top, they don’t have much that’s interesting, then Ionian –“

And that’s how it goes for a while – you’ll ask each other questions, and sometimes you’ll know the answer, but mostly you’ll have no clue, and you’ll explain the answers to each other calmly and kindly as you make your way through the chapter.

“Thank you Jane,” you mumble quietly, “I just can’t stop when I –“

“I know, I do that too,” Jane whispers.

You lean over and kiss her on the forehead, and she smiles a little, like how she used to smile back before everything got fucked up.

Now she smiles wider but things are worse.

Well, okay. Will’s okay and you’re not running away from the Bad Men. But.

You feel worse.

You’re back in your basement, somehow, even though you’re in your bedroom – or at least – you thought you were in your bedroom – you’re in your bedroom, right? With Jane, studying history – but

You’re in the basement, and you’re talking to Jane – El – Jane – El –

El with the puffy sweatshirt and the buzzed hair and the cute younger face –

Jane with the shoulder length hair and older beautiful face and the underground band (“Bad Religion” that Jonathan had showed her) t-shirt –

El looking shy and not talking –

Jane trying to get you to talk to her –

El crouching in the fort and smiling a little bit at you, that small smile you miss sometimes because now she smiles so wide across her whole face –

Jane crying and shaking you –

“Can you please stop that –“

You’re saying that in the past and the present –

Are you saying that in the present?

“Why – why should I stop –“

Present Jane says this –

Past El says nothing, just fiddles with a walkie –

What –

Wait –

Where are you –

You shout in pain –

No, you’re screaming in pain –

And then you’re back in your room.

You pant, heavily, looking at Jane in confusion.

“Mike? Mike!” she’s shouting, and she’s crying, smudging everything on her face.

You lean over and vomit on the floor.

“Mike!” Jane screams.

You look over at her, panting and sweating.

“I… don’t know what just happened,” you whimper.

Jane doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with a white face and wide eyes.

“I… I… I…”

“Mike you’re scaring me.”

You cry.

“I’m sorry –“

“What happened?”

“I don’t know!”

“Where did you go?”

“I went somewhere?”

“In your head – “

“I was back with you in the basement. When you were hiding. When we first met.”

“You… you were?”

“But also here –“

“I’m confused.”

“Me too.”

She reaches out and holds your head in her hands and moves it back and forth, looking at it with a frown.

“I don’t see anything wrong with you.”

“Maybe it’s just a… flashback? Maybe?” you mumble.

Your head is aching and your mind is spinning.

“Flashback?” Jane asks.

“When… last year… Will… kept going into Upside-Down… the doctor thought he was reliving… when he was down there… he wasn’t but… it’s a thing that… happens,” your words stumble out of your mouth like they’re falling down three flights of steps, your head doesn’t stop spinning, and you want to lie down for a year.

“Okay… are they like this though?” Jane mutters.

“I dunno but what else could it have been?” you demand quietly, looking at her and trying to not cry.

“I… don’t know. Okay. It’s a flashback. Are we done studying?”

“The test is tomorrow!”

“But you’re sick!”

“We have to clean this up and get back to studying.”

“Mike…”

“Jane, please, I can’t handle failing another test okay? I just can’t handle it. I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t –“

Jane nods, pulling your hands into hers and holding onto them tightly. You squeeze back weakly for a long minute, before the two of you quickly clean up the the vomit and go back to studying.

At the very least, you manage to pass the test.

O C T O B E R  21   1 9 8 5

You’re up all night with a panic attack again.

The end of October is rapidly approaching.

You know what that means.

You know what’s happened, now, two years in a row.

Utter disaster.

Something terrible.

Losing your friends.

Someone dying.

People getting hurt.

You and the people you care about, traumatized.

Monsters in the woods.

Crops spoiling.

Everything going to shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

You want to run out the door, grab the whole party, and escape to somewhere safe.

But you know you can’t.

You know that isn’t allowed.

So you lie awake and you stare up at the ceiling and you want to scream you want to scream you want to scream you want to scream you want to scream you want to –

Jane.

You get up, grab some clothes, pack things into your bag, and crawl out of the window. You run to your bike and peddle, as fast as you can, through the town.

It’s eerily quiet, given that it’s one in the morning. You ride as fast as you can, through the woods, over to the cabin.

You drop your bike off in front of the cabin and run over to the door, standing outside of it.

You wish you could just psychically call Jane over, but you know that you can’t knock without Hopper hearing.

You frown and walk around the back of the cabin, creeping over to the window where Jane’s room is. You knock very, very quietly and wait.

The window is thrown open and Jane peers down at you with wide eyes.

“Mike?”

“I can’t sleep,” you hiss.

She immediately closes the window again and runs to the front, so you run around to the front of the cabin. She lets you in, looking at you in worry.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

Her hair is still fairly short, so it’s sticking up everywhere in a curly little ball.

“I don’t know, I can’t stop panicking.”

“Mike?”

You start pacing the room, running your hands through your hair and trying to not cry.

“I just can’t stop thinking about everything that always happens this time of year and how it’s this time of year again and what if something happens and what if someone else dies and what if you die and I can’t handle the thought of you dying and what if the Mind Flayer comes back or Brenner comes back or someone –“

“Mike,” Jane whispers, “Shh.”

But you’re already freaking out, and you pace around the room while tearing at your hair.

“WHAT IS GOING ON?”

You turn in a panic to see Hopper, panting in the doorway to his room, looking at you both angrily.

“I’m – I’m sorry – I’m sorry –“

“What the fuck are you doing Wheeler?” Hopper shouts.

“He’s having a panic attack!” Jane says angrily.

Hopper immediately calms, sitting down and sighing.

“Sorry. I was startled.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face.

You can’t calm down either.

So you just keep pacing.

“Why is he panicking?” Hopper asks.

“He thinks something is going to happen again this year.”

“Yeah, I’m panicking about that too.”

Hopper coughs for a long moment before groaning.

“Okay, kid. You can stay here. But, uh. I’m not sure how much less you can panic here.”

You flush furiously and shrug, “I wanted to be near Jane.”

The look Hopper gives you clearly says You’re killing me kid but you don’t look away.

“Fine. You guys can have a sleepover out here. And please sleep, you have school tomorrow.”

“Yes Hop,” Jane reassures.

“Out here.”

“Yes!” you say, nodding rapidly with your eyes wide. Hopper gives you a look and then goes to grab you both some blankets, before turning back into his room. He leaves the door partially open.

“Why is he acting weird,” Jane mutters.

“Dunno,” you mutter, and you hate yourself for lying, “Let’s just… sleep.”

You lie down next to her, and you hold each other in your arms, and you manage to fall asleep eventually, even though worries and fears of the future refuse to stop dancing angrily in your head.

O C T O B E R  3 1   1 9 8 5

This is the first year you haven’t gone trick or treating.

You’re having a party instead, and you actually don’t mind it much.

You and the whole rest of the party are at some other kid’s house, all dressed up in costumes. Jane is dressed as Leia and you’ve dressed as Han to match, though she insists on carrying around a lightsaber with her.

“Ha! Hopper!” someone shouts at her. She looks up and glares.

“What?”

“Should have worn the bikini.”

“Why? I’d be cold,” Jane demands, frowning even more.

She had loved Return of the Jedi when you took her to see it, but of course that had been a while ago now.

“Classic Hopper,” the girl snorts, before walking away. Jane looks up at you and frowns.

“Should I have worn the bikini?”

“No,” you answer immediately, “You would have been cold.”

You still don’t know what she knows and what she doesn’t know and you don’t want to be the first person to break through that complete topical silence.

For some reason, you have a feeling it would be a bad idea.

Jane nods, and goes to grab a drink.

“Wait, you don’t know what’s in that –“ you say, running up to her. She gives you a look.

“I can handle it.”

“But –“

“I can handle it.”

You can tell from her face that she isn’t going to take no for an answer. She pours a bunch of the punch into a cup and drinks it, smiling as she does so.

You take some too, drinking and pressing your cup against hers. It burns on the way down, and you feel kind of woozy, and not in a good way.

“There’s alcohol in this isn’t there,” you say, frowning.

“Yup,” Jane says, “Bitchin’.”

You frown at her.

You don’t want her to start drinking again.

But who are you to talk? You cut multiple times a day and honestly have to eat a bunch of sugary foods to not feel faint most days.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Jane urges, and before you know it she’s dragged you to the dance floor and twirling around together, even though everyone around you is dancing in much different ways. She doesn’t seem to care though, and she’s smiling and laughing at you, and you can’t help but smile and laugh at you.

“Guys!”

You look over to see Will running up to you, dressed as Chewbacca.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Max is like, super drunk, and Lucas is having trouble –“

“Fuck,” you mutter, and you and Jane run over to Max, who is vomiting into a bush. Max is dressed as Lobot, and Lucas as Lando (he wanted to this year), and Dustin is dressed as Luke.

“What do we do?” Dustin asks, pacing, “What do we do?”

Jane immediately runs forward to Max and helps her up, letting Max lean on her shoulder. You watch in amazement as Jane leads Max over to a bench and helps her sit down.

“Okay, you just rest,” Jane says softly, “If you feel like you’re going to pass out, lie down on your side. Lucas?”

Lucas runs forward and nods.

“Watch her. If she passes out, come find one of us and we’ll take her home,” Jane says simply. Lucas nods and hugs her, mouthing thanks.

Jane just nods and heads back inside, so you follow her quickly.

“Jane –“

“I need more.”

“Jane…”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not going to!”

“Good!”

Jane grabs another drink and chugs it, before chugging a third. You watch her with worry, frowning and feeling yourself tense up.

“Sorry,” Jane mumbles, “I’m just…”

“What?” you ask quietly.

“Stressed.”

You nod, “Yeah. I’m sorry. I haven’t been easy lately.”

Jane leans up and kisses you softly, making some boys whoop in a corner. You flick them off without thinking, before pulling away from her.

“I don’t care, Mike. I really don’t. I love you,” she says, and all her words come out jumbled and slurred, but she smiles as she says it, “I just… school is hard for me too. I need to… I think Dustin called it let off steam?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Me too.” You take two cups of punch yourself and drink it, and sway on your feet in shock.

“Mike!” Jane shouts, “You haven’t had as much experience as me –“

“I am quickly realizing that –“ you slur out.

“Oh no,” Jane groans, and she helps keep you upright, but you pull her out to dance and you spin her around a lot, even though you’re already dizzy.

“Mike!” Jane gasps.

“S-sorry –“

“You need to go sit down too.”

You nod, and you watch her as she drags you outside, and she looks so beautiful, you just wish you could kiss her all the time –

You’re sitting next to Max and you sway in your spot, your head spinning –

Spinning –

Spinning –

Spinning –

Suddenly you feel like you’re looking over a cliff, down to a quarry below –

You spin back –

Quarry –

Party –

Quarry –

Party –

Quarry –

Party –

Quarry –

Party –

Vomit –

Jane holds your curly hair back as you vomit all over the ground, and sooths you, and you flit back to the present.

You’re so dizzy you can’t even think properly but why would you get a flashback now?

Why were you getting flashbacks at all?

“I’m a mess,” you mumble quietly.

“So am I,” Jane reassures, and you somehow find this comforting, even though she’s your main source of relief.

“We’re all messes together,” Max reassures softly, her words all meshed together still.

“Yeah,” Will agrees.

“And we’ll get through this as a team,” Lucas finishes.

“As a Party,” Dustin emphasizes.

You look up at all of them and smile weakly, before resting your head against Jane’s shoulder and just trying to regain yourself.

All messes together.

Well at the very least there’s that, you guess.