Chapter Text
Clock ticking. Pencils tapping. Shoes squeaking. Chairs shifting. Hushed rumors, whispered gossip. Cheers from the dolled-up cheerleaders and chuckles from the annoying jocks.
Those were the usual sounds you had heard every day within the walls of Hawkins High School. So when a strange high-pitched ringing pierced through the rambunctious atmosphere it made the hairs on your arms raise. Today was November 6th, 1983 as you had written in the top corner of your lined sheet of paper and there was an annoying pop quiz in Mrs. Clacks English homeroom. Some dumb basic questions about whatever dumb book that had been assigned last month.
You raked your hands through your hair; Annoyed and stressed by the surprise test. You weren’t the only one anxious. Your classmates were just as equally annoyed.
Your deskmate, Robin Buckley, tapped her chipped nails in a musical rhythm on the wooden surface. Usually the musical taps she would make helped distract how boring Mrs. Clack’s class was, but right now it was becoming migraine-inducing.
You gripped your hair again this time rubbing your knuckles into your skull.
You weren’t ever antsy like this. Usually calm, cool, and collected during tests and exams. You tapped the eraser of your pencil on your desk in restlessness.
You couldn’t understand why you were fidgeting so much! You had a decent night of sleep, had a semi-hearty breakfast (if you count a maple old fashion doughnut as a hearty meal), your old beater car started without issue and you got to school on time. You’ve read this book as assigned, so why were the answers not coming to you?! And what was that annoying ringing sound??
You glanced around the room to see if anyone else was hearing the irritating noise. Your classmates instead were either flying through the questions or sat in confusion.
A throat cleared making you jerk your head to the noise. Mrs. Clack stared at you with narrowed eyes. You were quick to advert your eyes back down to your paper.
‘Okay…okay…breathe…just focus…’
In The Crucible, who said "I think that it is dangerous to go looking for loose spirits. I say we just blame ourselves for what has happened and move on with our lives”?
You answered with Rebecca Nurse.
What does the term “crucible” mean?
A crucible is a severe test or trial that results in cleaning or a purification-
Your pencil froze.
The air shifted. It felt like everything had frozen in time but was rushing around you like a rollercoaster. Your heartbeat quickened and your breathing grew short. Every hair on your body stood straight. From the corner of your eye, you could see the ends of your hair lift.
Like in a trance, your eyes drifted around the classroom. Mrs. Clack cleared her throat again, but she was ignored. You blinked and suddenly you weren’t in your body. Literally. You were like a ghost floating above the classroom.
“Shit.” You hissed. Whatever was happening to you hadn’t happened for quite some time now. You raised your hands to keep yourself from bumping your head on the ceiling. You could have phased through with no problem, but it was still instinct to not bump into anything. If your atom structure was becoming discombobulated against your will then something terribly wrong was occurring. Something that had to do with the atoms of the universe and the molecular structure of time and space.
A monstrous shriek echoed from a very far distance, followed by the shriek of a young girl. The lights surrounding you flickered. You gasped and suddenly you were thrown back into your body.
The weight of your spirit returning to its fleshy form caused your body to violently slam into the desk in front of you with a painful sound.
Your classmates shrieked and jumped.
You winced and cupped your nose. It was bleeding but not from the impact of the desk. You panted trying to gain oxygen back in your lungs and desperate to determine what the Hell had just happened.
“Holy shit! Are you okay?!” Robin yelped from beside you.
“I think she broke her nose!” Steve Harrington had turned in his seat and watched the blood drip from your nostril.
“MISS (L/N)!” Mrs. Clack had jumped from her seat and glared at you. “To the principal’s office! NOW!”
“S-Shouldn’t she go to the nurse’s office instead?” Robin tried to reason on your behalf.
Mrs. Clack was shaken up having witnessed your eyes roll into the back of your head and then slammed your face down. She just wanted to get the weird kid out of her classroom! “J-Just get out!” She pointed to her classroom door.
You wiped the blood with your jacket sleeve and gathered your things mutely. Whispers were already beginning to sprout around amongst your classmates. The door slammed shut behind you as you stood and panted in the hallway. You should have gone to the nurse’s and principal’s offices as instructed, but instead, you turned the opposite way. You ignored the sting of your palms as you slammed the exit doors open. You scanned the treeline surrounding the school before your eyes landed northward and stayed there.
There, just beyond the forest was the Hellscape known as Hawkins National Laboratories. You were well acquainted with the horrifying building nestled within the trees. Pieces of long-forgotten memories flashed in your mind. A lanky man with terrifying ice-blue eyes, white walls, an older man with a deceiving smile, colorful wires knotted and tangled in weird devices, a young girl that you had seen in the labs that for some reason you wanted to befriend and protect.
You numbly rubbed your inner left wrist. Where the number 101 was permanently branded into your skin.