MATILDA, eddie munson.

017.

FEBRUARY 21ST, 1986
📍cunningham house
7:39 AM

the girl stared at her pale complexion in her bathroom mirror. she stood in her underwear alone, looking at her body. a tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered all the places he touched her.

today marked two months since her assault, and the anniversary seemed to have caused all the bad thoughts to come back.

she took a deep, shaky breath and left her bathroom to go her closet and pick out some clothes. she settled on a pair of loose, blue jeans and a dark grey, oversized sweatshirt, along with her converse.

heading back into her bathroom, she realized there was little point in trying to cover her eye bags. she decided to add a layer of mascara to her lashes, before pulling some of her hair out of her face and tying it back into a half up-half down style.

deciding she looked decent enough, she headed downstairs. "matilda, you look awful," her mother said upon seeing her.

"gee, thanks," matilda replied, pouring herself a glass of water. "good morning to you too."

"you alright, tils?" chrissy asked, her voice full of concern.

"fine," matilda dismissed, finishing off her drink. "ready to go?"

— 🪐📻🏹 —

FEBRUARY 21ST, 1986
📍hawkins high school
13:58 PM

she had a free period, and thankfully so did eddie, so the pair had planned to meet up at their spot to work on a few pages of the scrapbook together.
they'd only completed the first time period needed, but it was coming along nicely.

"there she is," eddie smiled as she arrived. "hey, you."

"hey," she replied, taking a seat opposite him. "sorry i'm late."

"don't stress it," he told her. "did you bring the stuff?"

she nodded, opening her bag to take out the scrapbook, and a pencil case full of pens, scissors and glue.

"okay, so we need to stick those last few cutouts in, and finish the outlining on the cover," eddie said, looking at matilda, who frankly looked exhausted. "what's the matter?" he questioned, brows gently furrowed.

tillie shook her head. "nothing. i'm fine," she answered. "just tired, that's all."

"liar," eddie said.

matilda sighed loudly. "listen, can we just not? you just start sticking," she handed him the glue, taking the thick, black marker for herself. "i'll start outlining."

eddie was confused at her attitude, but began gluing a picture of surgical tools into the book. his eyes darted up back towards matilda, and he saw her biting her lip, a habit she tended to do when she was anxious or upset.

he put the glue down flat on the table. "mattie, what's wrong?"

she scrunched her eyes up and took a deep breath. "nothing," she swallowed, her voice breaking slightly. "didn't you hear me? i'm fine."