Hell on Earth

Chapter Twenty Eight - Nightmares

This chapter mentions past acts of child abuse. If this is something that is triggering to you, please skip to the next chapter. Protect your mental health readers, and please know that you are not alone.

Cynthia didn't know how she got back to the tunnels under Hawkins: all she knew is that she wanted to get out. She wanted to get out now. She turned and ran down a random tunnel. It didn't matter where she was going. All that mattered that it was away from something. The tunnels seemed to be alive and slowed her progress at every chance they had. Her foot sank down into something. It tried to pull her into the walls of the tunnel. Cynthia clawed at the ground and pulled herself up. She looked behind her when she heard what sounded like a hoard of demo-dogs running towards her. She picked herself up and started to run faster and faster and faster, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter at all. She was stuck in the same place. She looked behind her and saw countless monsters running towards her. She wanted to scream, but the beasts were already almost on her. As the first demo-dog jumped with it's face spread into the hideous mess of teeth, Cynthia put her arm up to shield herself.

The bite from the beast never came. Cynthia looked around and saw that she was in Jonathan's house.

"Well, well, well," a sinister voice came from behind her. "What do we have here?"

Cynthia turned around and saw Billy Hargrove walking towards her. Cynthia backed up against the wall. She couldn't help but be frightened. The look in Billy's eyes was something else entirely.

"You aren't suppose to fight back," Billy whispered in her ear as he pinned her against the wall. He pulled away and his features started to morph into the one person Cynthia truly feared.

"Go away, Dad," she closed her eyes and started to mutter. She turned her head away from him. "You're not real. Go away."

She felt her father's iron grip on her jaw turn her head back towards him, "You will look at me when I am speaking to you."

Cynthia opened her eyes and saw her father's staring into hers. The grip he had on her jaw was starting to hurt. She wanted to scream and cry, but she knew that it would only make it worse.

"You're not going to fight back this time," her father told her. "You're going to take this beating because you deserve it. You always deserve it."

And then his fist swung at her face.

Cynthia woke with a start from her sleep. She reached under her bed and grabbed her machete. Cynthia backed herself into the corner of her room and tried to calm herself. She rocked back and forth muttering.

"It's not real. It was just a dream. He can't hurt you. He can't hurt you."

Cynthia made her way back to her bed and looked at the clock. It was almost three o'clock in the morning. It had been a while since she had done this, but she knew that it would yield the same results as the times before. She snuck out of her bedroom and into the kitchen. She wrote a small note to her mom. Then, Cynthia snuck into the garage and pulled her bike out. It had been a while since she had rode the bike, but it was a quiet form of transportation. Cynthia got on her bike and started to wheel out of her driveway. The dark roads were familiar to her as she made her way to the one person she knew who would understand her nightmares. She tried humming to calm her nerves, but it wasn't working. Cynthia didn't know how long it took, but eventually Jonathan's house came into view.

Cynthia got off of her bike and left it in the driveway. She went around the house to Jonathan's window. She peaked in and saw that he was sleeping there. She started to tap on his window. After a few minutes of her knocking on his window, Jonathan finally woke up. He turned and saw Cynthia standing at his window. He got up and opened the window.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her as he yawned. "It's like three in the morning."

"Bad dreams," Cynthia told him.

Jonathan's face went serious, "Get in."

Cynthia crawled through Jonathan's window. She sat on the edge of her bed in her pajamas. Jonathan sat next to her in silence for a moment.

"When did they start?" Jonathan asked.

"A few days ago," Cynthia looked down at her hands. "Ever since Billy beat my ass, I've been having them. Usually I'm able to wake myself up before Billy turns into my dad, but..."

"You couldn't do it tonight," Jonathan finished.

"It's like I'm a kid again," Cynthia whispered. "I'm just so scared of him, I don't know what to do." She looked at him. "Do your nightmares ever come back?"

"Sometimes I get nightmares about if Lonnie had been the one who had taken Will or Will actually disappearing, but I stopped having those dreams a little while after we started talking. I think me getting bigger and knowing I could actually defend myself, my mom, and Will made things easier and gave me a piece of mind that no matter what Lonnie did in the past, he couldn't do it again."

"I wish I could have that. I know that I'll never be as big or strong as my dad. If he wanted to, he could drive to my house tomorrow, kick my ass, and there could be nothing I could do to stop him."

"Did the nightmares start because Billy beating you up reminded you of your dad?"

"Yeah," Cynthia bit the inside of her cheek. "The nightmares stopped because I told myself that they weren't real and that he couldn't hurt me anymore. Having someone do the thing that I said wouldn't happen anymore was not what I needed. Add in that to my nightmares about those damn tunnels; I sleep for a few hours and then I'm up and scared."

"I can't give you any advice for the Upside Down nightmares: I'm still stuck having those myself. Though my are usually about the demogorgon getting Will. I usually calm myself down from those by checking on him. As long as I can see him, I feel better."

"I'm always trapped in the tunnels. Sometimes, I'm in your house getting beat and then I go to the tunnels. Other times, it's the other way around. All I know is that I feel paranoid and unsafe and like my father is going to come back into my life and ruin everything."

"You know he can't do that," Jonathan grabbed Cynthia's hand. He squeezed it to try and ground her. "Your mom, Dustin, and you all have restraining orders on him. You and Dustin have no-contact orders put into place by the court. He can't come near you guys. Besides, he has no idea where you guys are living. He can't find you even if he wanted to." Jonathan took a pause. "Look, I know your dad destroyed so much. I know he's the reason you can't open up to people about some parts of your life. Hell, we were friends for years before you trusted me enough to tell me that you're bisexual." He looked at Cynthia in the eyes. " Do you remember what I said to you that night?"

"You said that you loved because I was your best friend, that we had spent countless hours listening to music, watching movies, and just being with each other and that nothing could change that. You told me that I was safe because I was with people who cared about me.

"That's right," Jonathan smiled at her. "I want you to repeat after me: I am safe because I am with people who care about me."

Cynthia took a deep breath, "I am safe because I am with people who care about me."

"He is out of my life."

"He is out of my life."

"I am safe."

"I am safe."

"Do you want to drink some chocolate milk and watch a movie like the old days?" Jonathan asked her.

"Yeah," Cynthia nodded. "I like that plan."

Jonathan got off the bed, "Let's go. We haven't hung out in a while. Let's try and forget everything for a little bit."

Cynthia offered him a strained smile, "Okay."

It wasn't perfect, and Cynthia knew she would probably be making a few more late night pitstops to Jonathan's bedroom window; but, it was a start. Cynthia was just glad that she had someone to talk to. It wouldn't fix her problems or all the things that had happened to her, but it was like Jonathan said: at least here, she was safe because she was around someone who truly cared about her.