Chapter Text
Dear diary, I don't think I'm ready to say goodbye.
It's been four years since Will died.
I still see him.
I see him in the sunsets and smiling faces of people who never knew his name.
People know my name, well... enough to know that I'm that kid that never speaks.
Max and Lucas and Dustin, they're great. It's just. Hawkins isn't the same without you Will and I'm starting to forget what you sounded like. I'm starting to forget what you smelt like, your clothes that I kept don't fit me anymore. I'm still waiting for you.
My mom is worried about me. I just miss you Will, please come back to me.
One day I'm going to be a writer and I'm going to write all about you. Things got so weird after you left. My mom divorced my dad. He's better now, she is too, maybe it was good for them.
Will, please come back. I can't talk, I can't eat. Not like I used to.
There's this evil guy and these monsters and this girl. Her name is El, she's my friend. Not like you, don't worry. She's got superpowers that make her bleed out of her nose! Like straight out of a dungeons and dragons campaign or a comic book.
I've read every one of your comic books, I know them off by heart. I've seen all your drawings.
Me and Jonathan hang out sometimes and talk about you. He bought me a notepad, that's how we talk or rather, communicate. You would love the mixtapes he makes for me.
How is it, wherever you are? I like to imagine that when you die your body disintegrates into the ground and your soul surrounds the multiverse. Do you surround me? Are you watching every little mistake I'm making, the classes I'm failing?
Will I just want to give up, come back to me. Please? You weren't supposed to be gone so early.
You were supposed to make that comic we always talked about and finally save enough to buy real art supplies besides the crayons and pencils.
Oh! By the way, I started drawing. I draw you a lot, I draw what I think you'd look like now.
They're no good though.
Holly is older now, she talks, like properly and has a few friends. You would've liked her.
Nancy tries but I keep lashing out at her. Pushing her out of my room and locking the door. I don't, hurt her. I just, push her away and maybe that's worse. I don't mean to.
I haven't talked in four years.
The dnd box is covered in dust. I still have the little notes you wrote and your drawings all over my walls.
I get bullied pretty bad when Max isn't around. It doesn't help that I can't speak, the teachers just blame me.
Your dog, Chester. He's with you now, wherever you went.
Maybe we just go nowhere. Maybe you exist and then you don't. I don't know which is worse.
I'm fighting really hard for you. I even brushed my teeth today. I don't really do things like that anymore, it's gross, I know.
The school counselor told me to write in this. I think it's kinda dumb. How the fuck is writing in a diary going to bring you back?
Goodnight Will. Sweet dreams.
-MJW