Ringo Wheeler had enough problems - she was named after a member of a band she doesn't even like, she can't find her favourite record in any store along the East Coast and she pissed her parents off enough to be shipped to Indiana.
Now, she has a ne...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✵
HELL, RINGOWHEELERHADDISCOVERED, was not an underground lair where demons and souls of the damned resided.
She may have only been seventeen years of age, but the girl knew full well that Hell came in a number of forms. Like recovering Christmas decorations and discovering that, once again, the lights had been tangled mercilessly despite your best efforts in packing them the year before. Or catching your parents in the middle of sex. Or even grabbing your curling iron by the wrong end.
Or having to move to Hawkins, Indiana.
The town was smaller than her neighbourhood back home, and in the space of a day - had proved every stereotype about small towns true. The parents were backward with their views, and all teenagers were hoodlums, simply looking for something to entertain themselves with within the dreariness. Those who weren't, were considered prudish and boring.
It was the cruelest punishment her family could have come up with, and she had to applaud them for it. They had threatened to send her away from their tiny house in Orlando to Indiana since she was a child, but now they weren't just threatening it any more.
Sure, her uncle and aunt weren't all that bad. Her aunt Karen pitied her to an extent, which was a horrible feeling, but meant she showered her with baked goods and gifts. Her uncle Ted, her father's brother, didn't care much for her - she wouldn't be surprised if Ted hadn't even noticed her since she arrived. The man was completely out of tune with his surroundings.
The only slight advantage to the stay was her relationship with her cousins, Nancy and Mike - who were both complete polar opposites, but came together when Ringo was around.
"You can't just lie in here all day," Nancy commented as she entered their now shared room, raising an eyebrow at her cousin - who laid spread eagle on the cot set up for her.
"I can, and I will," she retorted in a bored tone, just about hearing Nancy's voice over the loud songs flooding through her headphones.
'Ringo's Ass Kicking Mix' was a tape she had childishly made when she was twelve and angry at the world, fast forward five years and the songs were still of a comfort to her. Even if she had to hide the name of the tape from anyone in the nearby vicinity.
"I'm meeting up with Steve tonight, we're all going to a bonfire. It'd be a good way for you to meet the kids at school?" Nancy offered, biting her lip.
"Eh," she brushed off, waving her hand in the air and closing her eyes again.
"You're only here for a few months, Ringo," Nancy pointed out, "you may as well make the best of it."
