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WHEN AMARA AWOKE THE FOLLOWING MORNING it was from the sunlight peeking through her blinds instead of the ringing of her alarm clock, whose digits currently read 9:30 am, three hours past the time she set it for on weekdays. Golden sunspots danced along the cream walls of her room, warming the atmosphere as she pushed herself into a standing position. Opening the shades, she found that the sky was cloudless and a lovely hue of periwinkle, a complete juxtaposition to the overall mood of Hawkins that day.
Attending the funeral of a boy she'd never met was odd, even more so considering the body being buried was likely artificial. Nevertheless, as Jonathan's new friend and the sister of Joyce Byers' co-worker, she needed to prove to the town, most of which believed Will Byers to be dead, that she at least cared about the people in her life. Donning a midnight dress she wore to Kevin's high school graduation, she twisted her dark hair into a sleek knot at the nape of her neck, tendrils softening the angles of her jaw.
School was canceled that day, as nearly the entire town was observing the funeral whether they knew Will personally or not. As Amara stood among a sea of black, she caught sight of a few unfamiliar faces, such as a man standing next to Joyce Byers, supporting her as she leaned into his body for comfort.
"That's my dad," someone spoke, and she turned to find Jonathan standing to her left. "He's here for the funeral."
Amara noticed how out-of-place the two looked together. Joyce was nurturing and kind, whereas her ex-husband appeared to have no emotion written on his face, despite it being his own son's funeral.
"It's bullshit, really," Jonathan continued. "He was never there, even when he still lived with us. And then he comes running back hoping we're depressed enough to forgive him. He'll probably fuck off back to his girlfriend or whoever's living with him after this is all over."
Amara didn't know how to respond to that; her instinct when someone was upset was to offer advice rather than emotional support. But what advice could you give to someone whose father had never been there his entire life, who cared more about sex with strangers than the family he'd left behind? Words couldn't make up for the trauma Jonathan had experienced, so Amara chose instead to place her hand on his forearm. It was enough for him.
When the funeral had ended and everyone had tossed their white and gold roses onto the wooden casket, Amara waited for the crowd to disperse before joining Nancy and Jonathan by a small fence surrounding several ancient graves. Jonathan had acquired a map of Hawkins and marked three spots with red X's to indicate the locations the creature had been sighted, at least the places they were certain of.
"This is where we know for sure it's been, right?" Jonathan asked rhetorically as Amara sat down beside them, peering over his shoulder. Nancy reached out a finger to point at the northernmost marking, closest to the urban part of Hawkins. "So that's... "
