4. "Here I Go Again"

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⚠️ TW: disordered eating, language, depression




You sit at the dinner table, listening to the clinging of your fork against the porcelain of the plate in front of you. You love your mom's meatloaf; she makes it every Wednesday. But you haven't had much of an appetite since you moved to Colorado.

It wasn't a weight loss thing. You used to put food away with the best of your guy friends like Steve Harrington. But ever since what happened...your body felt like it wasn't your own. Like on some level you didn't deserve to take care of the body that was the catalyst for so much fear and grief. That you didn't want a body that could be seen. The low grade nausea and anxiety never seemed to go away completely.

Your mom had noticed the changes in you. Knew that something had happened that summer. She thought it was maybe depression, some sort of issue acclimating to high school. It seemed like divine intervention when your dad got the offer to relocate to Colorado. Like the whole family needed a fresh start. She had tried to get you into therapy but it didn't really work...it can't when you never told the therapist what had actually happened that night. Although you did kind of like it. You learned more about psychology, how people tick. You planned on using that as a defense in the future if you ever needed one. You'd never let yourself be that defenseless again. That stupid ever again. 

Bless your mom's heart though: as annoying as she could be—always asking how you were and giving you a look of what you could only describe as a mix of pity and disappointment for not being Susie High School like she had been—-she never stopped trying to keep the line of communication open. Holding out hope for a time you would magically be ready to open up.

You know they wouldn't understand though. Your parents had always been very conservative, very religious. To have them know their precious only daughter got drunk and raped at a party she wasn't supposed to be at when she was 14 would be too much for them. It would have resulted in the same outcome: moving to a new state. Not only would the news crush them, marring their vision of their perfect daughter, it would be too much for them to bear— potentially having the entire small town of Hawkins know how much of a "slut"their daughter was and the debauchery she involved herself with.

"How's the meatloaf?" Your mom asks trying with her eyes to will yours to look up at her—another classic mom move to get you to open up.

"Fine," you say weakly, looking up briefly to grant her a brief smile. "Just not very hungry."

You jump as your father clears his throat loudly. The new version of you makes him uncomfortable, as all things mental health and emotions do. He is a gruff man, not one for feelings. "Well, Y/N, we have some interested news. Want to tell her, dear, or should I?"

Speaking of therapy and the idea of "daddy issues..."

"Well," your mom starts slowly. "Your father just got a promotion at work. And he has the opportunity to return to his old office...in Hawkins." She continues quickly, a forced brightness in her tone. "Your father and I know something happened when you started the high school. I don't know how you feel about going back. So your father and I decided we're going to leave this decision to you. Whether you want to go back to Hawkins and finish out with your senior year there...or stay here in Colorado....we...we just want to see you happy again, sweetie."

You keep your eyes down on the meatloaf you had chased around your plate while she was talking, trying to focus on not throwing up at the first time she uttered the word: "Hawkins." You, back in Hawkins.

You look up first at your dad, who is trying his best to soften into a small smile, and your mom, who looks like a deer in headlights, genuinely afraid and unknowing of how you'll react.

Despite their bible beating and hatred for metal music, they weren't bad parents. They were trying. But you couldn't bring yourself to open up. Not about this.

"Can...can I think about it?" you manage to utter. It's the only thing you can say. You need time to think.

"Of COURSE, honey," your mom said, reaching out and squeezing your hand. "Take all the time you need."

*********************
That night, starring up the Robert Downey Jr. poster on your ceiling (because having a poster of Sebastian Bach would just get your parents on your ass...), you make a decision.

You think about the person you used to be. Fun, spontaneous, always studious but fun.. Sarcastic, daring.... Free.

And who you are now. A shell of who you used to be. Mentally and physically. One night changed your life forever. And now that you have an opportunity to have a fresh start, you have a flutter in your stomach that gives you hope that maybe you no longer want this one night to define you anymore. You're tired. Tired of feeling tired. You miss your spark. And what had felt like a veil of heavy sadness and fear feels is suddenly replaced by conviction and white hot anger. Defiance from this person who took so much away from you.

Fuck it, you think.

I'm going back to Hawkins.

Author's note: here we go, y'all!

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