Chapter Text
I sucked in a tired sigh, squinting through my windshield. It was a rainy Friday night, and my boss had called me in late. Whoever was on the closing shift hadn't shown up for the third time this week. I didn't really care that much, given I was getting twice my normal pay.
I shivered a little, the cold air biting at my arms. I reached over to the air-con, twisting the knob left and right. My car had seen better days. It was twenty years old, holding on with a prayer and a dream. I huffed as the air-conditioning let out a lame wheeze of warm air. Maybe it was time for a new car.
I flicked on the windscreen wipers, but it was no use. The rain was picking up, fast. I held onto the wheel a little tighter, trying to ignore the swaying of the wind. The thought of turning around crossed my mind, but I couldn't risk doing U-turn. Yet, the wind pulled me from side to side. It was unrelenting. If I didn't turn back, soon, I would run off the road.
I glanced behind me, not seeing any car lights. I took in a breath before swinging the wheel around. The car turned, but the wheel pulled sideways. I tried to yank it back around, but the wind was howling, and the car was veering off the road, and I couldn't see anything, and all I could hear were screams-
-
I jolted upright in my bed, my clothes clinging to me. I panted, and pushed my hands into my eyes. It was a bad dream. A really bad dream. I rubbed my face and stood up, blindly walking towards my bedroom door. My foot got caught up in something and I fell forward onto my face. I groaned and rolled onto my back, sitting up and squinting. I frowned. That wasn't my chair. I stood up and looked around. This wasn't my room. I didn't have blue walls. I didn't have a poster bed. I didn't have posters of 'Karate Kid' on my wardrobe and I certainly didn't have a magazine cutout of Tom Cruise on my mirror.
I felt my breathing quicken. Where the hell was I? I stumbled out of the room, into what seemed to be an apartment. I didn't live in an apartment. I lived in a shitty council house with mould creeping up on the walls and cracked walls. This apartment was clean, with nice furniture and an old TV set. Not anywhere I'd be able to live. My eyes flit around the room. There was a landline phone hooked into the wall, and a phone book resting on a table beside it. I scrambled towards it, flicking through the pages, not finding anyones names. Not finding my own name.
I sunk to the floor. What happened? How did I get here? I rationalised I must have been picked up by a kind hearted old man, after crashing my car. But then why wasn't I injured? And why wasn't my name in the phone book? Hell, why was there a phone book in the first place? I ran my fingers through my hair. I'm probably comatose. That made sense. I'm comatose and this is a very realistic dream.
I stood up, glancing at the clothes I was wearing. They looked like old hand me downs my Mom would give me from when she was a teenager. I shook my head and threw on a random pair of shoes I found, that fit eerily well. I swung the front door open and walked outside. The sky was overcast, and the air was chilly. I shivered, moving forward.
I wandered aimlessly through the streets, assessing where I was. I spotted a few street signs- Rose Lane, Cedar Avenue, Chamomile Corner. It sounded like something from a lame tween-girl novel. The town I was in seemed small enough. The houses I walked past were in clusters of six or so, all of which screaming "White Middle Class Nuclear Family". Futher into the centre of the town, there were more people walking around. I caught sight of some stores, including "Melvalds General".
I ducked inside, gawking at how old the store felt. The pale yellow walls, blue fluorescent lights, the 80's music, it all felt like something from another time. I slowly paced down the aisles, stopping occasionally to pick up a box of 'Eggos' to marvel at how well the brand replicated the original design. I walked to the candy aisle, grabbing some sour sweets to snack on. I picked up a pack of gum too, walking to the checkout counter.
I dropped my haul on the conveyer belt, fishing around my pocket for cash. I glanced up at the total. Only $2? I took the coins out of my pocket and looked up to the cashier, wondering if somehow the economy deflated, when I noticed who the cashier was.
She was a small woman, with a boney face and low hanging eyebags. Her hair was a dark brown, and slightly frizzed. She smiled, in a way that made you feel like your Mom was giving you a hug. Her nametag was what stuck out to me the most, though. "Joyce"
I felt time slow down. This wasn't possible. Joyce Byers didn't exist. She was a character from a TV show, a very fictional TV show, one that most definitely had actors and directors and cameras and a script.
I snapped out of it as she spoke. "That's $2 when you're ready." I blinked, fumbling with my coins and clumsily dropping them on the counter. She gave me an awkward nod as I stared at her for another moment, before scrambling to pick up my snacks. I stumbled out of the store, staring at my hands. What the fuck was going on?
Maybe this is just a really nerdy comatose dream. I tore open the sour sweets, tossing one into my mouth. It burned on my tongue, and I forced it down my throat. A strangely real feeling for a dream.
I stood on the pavement for a minute, debating my next move. I didn't know who I was, or what I did for a living, or how to find these two things out. I decided on heading back to the apartment, figuring there'd be more anwsers there.
-
I sighed and sat back on the floor of the apartment, papers spread around me. From what I could see, my name was the same- according to gas bills, at least. My payslips read I worked in 'Hawk Theatre', which I guessed was the local movie theatre. I couldn't find a passport or birth certificate anywhere to confirm my age, but it didn't matter too much. I doubted I'd be leaving the country any time soon.
I stood up and walked to the kitchen. Was it my kitchen, now? I threw some TV-dinner crap into the microwave. TV. Was I a TV character now, technically? I ran my fingers through my hair. I hope not. Stranger Things was known for the horrific creatures that haunted the town of Hawkins, and I did not want to be at the mercy of some demogorgan.
I grabbed my food and flopped onto the couch, turning on the TV. A rerun of Star Trek was playing. I toyed with my food, thoughts drifting around my head. My life wasn't the greatest. I didn't have many friends outside work, and I didn't talk to my family. I didn't have many hobbies besides crocheting the odd blanket. I had always dreamed of a fresh start, where no one knew me and I could be my true self.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I could build a new life here, and live peacefully. But.. I set down my food with a sigh. I couldn't just ignore the whole people-eating-creature thing. By checking the dates on my mail earlier, Will Byers hadn't gone "missing" yet. I could be of help. I knew what was going to happen, and who was going to get hurt.
I chewed my lip, and sat up, grabbing a nearby refill pad. I never was able to do anything noteworthy in my life. But right now, I have the opportunity to save lives. I was gifted a second chance at life, and I wasn't going to waste it this time.