Chapter Text
November 7th, 1983.
Dear Will,
That was a whole long yesterday. They say you’re missing. Me, Dustin, and Lucas (it’s not the right way of grammar, but I’m writing in pen, so whatever) thought you just booked it after the campaign, but that’s what Lucas said anyway, and I don’t believe it. No offense, but it’s you! You can’t run away or else you know—we know—your mom would go crazy…which is what she’s been doing.
But I get it. I really get it. Hawkins has huge reactions over missing kids whenever they go missing but to me, it doesn’t affect me at all. I mean, I know that’s a bad thing to say, but I don’t know any of the kids that go missing. I feel for them. And stuff. But it’s different when it’s you.
Now I’m mad because it’s you. I’m mad because I thought there was supposed to be a big reaction—I mean, there is! From Hawkins and the police are starting search parties and it’s crazy right now—but from us. Your mom is panicking and so is your brother, but that’s reasonable. I don’t know why i’m not. Or Dustin. Or Lucas. This doesn’t mean I’m not sad you’re gone, I am. I think this is the worst I’ve felt in a long time. Maybe even forever—because usually when I feel this bad I come to you. But the problem is, I haven’t ever felt this bad and I can’t come to you. When mom calls me down for dinner, it’s more quiet because Nancy feels bad, but she feels bad with her dumb boyfriend in mind, and the only conversation is you gone and mom being cautious so that just reduces us to more silence because it’s a heavy conversation to talk about. But I’m saying the problem is, I haven’t cried yet. I haven’t seen Dustin or Lucas cry. In fact, I haven’t been around your mom and Jonathan to see them cry as much but I’m sure they have because they care for you. I do care for you too! I hate crying, but I want to cry for you. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I thought I’d be sobbing my eyes out until Vecna gets tired of it and gouges my eyes out himself, but I’m not crying. I haven’t really felt your absence. I’ve seen it—dude, you’re everywhere! On the news, on posters, out of people’s mouths…mouth breathers and okay people, but even the mouth-breathers have some sympathy. From what I’ve heard. But just some, so don’t like them. But…I don’t know, my brain registers you’re gone but it can’t comprehend you’re missing. I feel a sort of emptiness in my chest that wasn’t there before when I knew you were in my life, but my brain is just fine. Like, thinking thoughts that are normal and that I know you won’t answer on any channel, but I don’t feel that absence. Not there, at least. I know that’s super weird.
But I do miss you. A lot. Don’t think of what I just said as if I wasn’t missing you, ‘cause really I don’t know what else I have been feeling other than that. And I have no idea where you are, but I know you’re alive. Maybe not doing fine, but you’re Will the Wise, so you’ll make it. I genuinely feel like this isn’t wishful thinking!
Maybe it helps explain what I’ve been feeling. Something major has happened in my—and the people around me’s—life. That’s all. It happened. And I know it happened, but I can’t pause time or anything like an actual Storyteller so I just have to let it happen and hope for the best. That’s what my family is doing. Dustin and Lucas are definitely criers, but I don’t know what they think about you gone. It’s been just a day, anyway. And it’s still a big deal, yet I feel like it isn’t getting the recognition I want it to have. Anyway, I have to stop talking about this or else I’m gonna get mad for real.
Well, while you’ve been gone your mom went to the police station and is working with a couple police officers. They’ve actually interviewed us at school—it was really weird because I’ve only seen that happen in movies. I was so scared! I saw the police come in and immediately thought today was my last day alive because my dad was gonna whip my ass! Especially when they called my name! And Lucas, and Dustin’s! I thought, “what the hell did I do?! Or we?!” because at the time we thought you had just skipped school. Then once they told us, that’s when Lucas said you must’ve run away. I wanted to say that was bullshit, but any possibility was taken into account. I already told you why I know you didn’t run away. Anyway, they asked us a couple questions. Questions about you and our relationship towards you. “Any clue where he might’ve gone?”. In that moment, I wish I was truly the Storyteller, saying where you’ve been and saving the day with just my mind. It’s obviously not that easy and I’m only 12, no one that young does that with their mind either way.
When I got home it only reminded me of how my family is. The concept of romantic love is so weird in that house, if I’m honest. Mom and dad sleep on separate beds, if the armchair counts as one for my dad. Then Nancy and her lame ass boyfriend with big hair sleep in the same bed, which is upstairs and he doesn’t live here last time I checked! At least, I think they were sleeping together. The door was locked and I heard them ‘studying.’ Study my ass! What are they studying anyway, human anatomy? I said that at breakfast today, you would’ve definitely laughed if you heard me.
Jonathan is using his camera from when I’ve seen him and he’s put a lot of flyers up. With you quite literally everywhere, it’s hard to think you’re gone. Even though it’s right in my face that you are. It’s a good thing that you’re everywhere, because I don’t want to move on from this until they find you, which they will do. If we don’t find you first, that is. Which they don’t really have a chance against us. But during the next few search-parties, if you hear them yelling your name, please answer. Or give some sort of sign. Yell back. Fight back. Whoever took you will pay once we find you, I promise.
These letters might come off as random. It’s weird because I’m writing something, but out of free will and not for a grade? I wouldn’t believe me either. But like I said, I don’t want to move on until they find you. So, if I can find myself teetering on hyper-aware and unaware of your absence, I want to understand why. It’s stupid, but letters are personal—that’s what Nancy says when I try to read her and Steve’s notes—so I miss you. I want to feel me missing you.
So this is day 1 outta…who knows. I just hope I send 3 letters maximum before you’re home.
If I send this at all.
Come home, please.
From, Mike.