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prologue, little whispers.
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MOURNING WAS THE TIME that the waves of grief washed over her pretty little face, tears eager to pass. It was a road of baby steps, allowing the sombre lullaby to register and put the grief to rest. She would allow herself to sob into her cheap pillow and all of her emotions could ripple into it. Sure, her mascara and eyeliner would surely smudge but it was better than abandoning her self worth. Small steps to recovery, no more emptiness just a small hole left behind like a battle scar.
Unfortunately, Gwen Sharps did not follow the baby steps of mourning. The girl had tossed herself into the deepest, darkest ocean of pure ecstasy. Bliss was what she craved. The glimmer of happiness that wouldn't be snuffed out by a slight gust of wind. Gwen replaced her serotonin, missing the silly chemical, with pills and smoke. The missing serotonin was due to her twin's disappearance, one night he went without a word. Around the same time, Barbra Holland was announced dead due to Hawkins Lab.
He was gone for almost two years, a year of mourning and another of spiralling.
Standing in the forest, she continued on her journey of spiralling, waiting for her vice. Gwen stood alone, the midnight sky twinkling above her, hidden within shrubs and bushes. Her plump but dry lips shivered due to the air tinkling her bare legs, it was not skirt season, or was it due to the aching pain in her stomach. The pain was making her restless, the waiting was making her restless, and she needed something to keep her warm and safe. Where is he? She continued to shiver while bouncing on the spot, waiting for her dealer to arrive in the unusual location, attempting to keep her blood warm.
