↻ Radio silence, Stranger Things

i. The letter T

    

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ⁰¹ THE LETTER T

The first layer of fog begins to roll in, smoothing itself among the sea of houses, clinging to the rooftops as the sky projects a complex array of amber and gold.

Across the street, the glow of a single streetlamp decorates the pavement, creating a barrier between the concrete and the darkness yet to come. Drifting gently through the clouds as though it is a simple yellow-tinted balloon, the sun's rays light the walkway in a perfect aureate light that is beginning to fade. The sky slowly drains the vibrant colours of the day into a vacuum of nothingness, letting the hues of deep violet and midnight blue take over.

Tendrils of wind flow gently through the skeletal branches of the trees, rustling the leaves that float like discarded confetti to the ground. The curtain of peacefulness is broken only occasionally, whether it be by the odd squabble between squirrels, the song of the crickets or birds calling out to one another through short and repetitive tunes.

Puddles sit like stains wedged in the very corners of the street, glistening slightly when the sun-like rays from the streetlamp hit them at the right angle. Water kicks up in feathery coils of light as a pair of worn red Chuck Taylors tread through the brief gatherings of day-old dew. The vivid glow from the sun falls flawlessly upon her face, elucidating the freckled, pale skin that is hidden by a billowing mess of hair.

It's late evening, exactly seven twenty-one, a good forty minutes or so before Bailey Lefay would need to arrive back home, if she didn't want to be walking home in darkness. Even now the stars glimmer slightly, like smudges of silver crying to be seen against the fiery setting. A heavy breath escapes her lips, and a cloud of mist protrudes as the warm and cold air collide.

Her mind is laced with thoughts that mean nothing — her upcoming baseball tournament, where the renowned Hawkins team would compete against the notorious Crestview Academy, curiosity as to if Tower Records would have the new stock of Duran Duran CD's piled in yet, and queries dated back to this morning on whether or not she had had enough time to feed the ginger tabby next door — and so as she rounds the corner, sending a small pile of leaves spiralling with the kick of a foot, Bailey isn't expecting to nearly topple head-over-heels into a smug looking Kitty Davinia. And she certainly isn't expecting the menacing, and by far most dangerous boy in school: Ace Abreo, to be waiting for her.

     Bailey turns hastily, rationality and practicality both seemingly lost as she begins to tear down the cobblestone path. Her feet hit the ground heavily, each street flying by in a flurry of breath and fear. Her thoughts are clouded, confused as to why this is occurring. However, liable to the situation, Bailey concludes that she's going to be enlightened with that information in the near future. Her heart pounds against her ribcage as though it is a punching bag, each rapid beat hurting more and more as time goes on.

"Lefay," Ace's deep voice rattles from behind her. Given that a portion of his volume gets lost in the wind, she decides that she has managed to place a substantial amount of distance between her and the pursuers. "You're a dead man walking," his voice is raspy, tired from running, but relentless nonetheless. "Do you hear me? You're dead!"

     Resistant stone gradually evolves into a lustrous bed of grass that guides her into the depths of the forest. Bailey weaves skilfully between dips, and treads through the shallow pools where rainfall has gathered. With clouded visibility and lack of natural vibrancy, the task of guiding herself through the trees becomes more of a struggle than usual. Bailey only has her gut instinct and good sense of direction to work with.