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10 July 1985 Henderson Home
She was a nervous wreck.
At 5:05 am Joan woke up to her usual nightmare of being strapped to a seat in a dark basement while Billy forced her eyes open to watch a giant rat-human soup monster slowly decompose Heather in front of her eyes with hands around her neck slowly suffocating her.
At 8:15 am she ate some cereal.
At 10:00 am she drove Dustin to his adoptive father, Steve. She dropped him off at the boys work place to annoy the graduate as much as his little heart wanted. Not that Steve seemed to mind, judging by the secret handshake she witnessed through the windows.
At 11:55 am Joan sat on the recliner with her leg bouncing up and down at an accelerated pace, nervously looking out the window, while waiting for the sounds of an old van driving in her drive yard.
At 12:22 pm, he pulled in.
Eddie clambered out of the vehicle happily and unashamed, cracking his back and grinning to her elderly neighbour who stared with horror that she didn't bother to hide. He waved his fingers happily at the woman and laughed as she quickly went inside, nearly slamming the door closed behind her.
Joan had ran over to open the door, meeting Eddie at the front who grinned, leaning up against the doorway. "Hi, prissy pants." She ignored the hello, choosing instead to grab Eddie by the arm and using all of her strength to pull the teen inside. "Woah, Henderson. If I wasn't a super senior, I'd think you were ashamed to be seen with me."
He had said it jokingly, but was it really a joke? What teenage girl in Hawkins wants to be the girl seen letting Eddie the freak Munson into her home while no one else was around? The drug dealer, super super-Senior, and slight public menace of the small town had an image painted in most everyone's mind and it wasn't good.
"So here's the beauty." Joan decided to ignore the guilt in her chest, heading over to the piano with her hands shoved under her arm pits and nodding to the instrument with a frown. "The only problem I'm having is I can't seem to open it... maybe it's jammed or something, I don't know."
"Well, I'm not a bard for nothing." Eddie responded, cracking his knuckles and fiddling with the top of the piano. His fingers lightly grazed the back with a frown and he looked at Joan. "Do you have the key?"
"The what?"
Eddie moved the piano from the wall and turned it slightly, and motioned for Joan to come look at the back of the piano where a skeletal keyhole rested.
