"You planned out a scrapyard showdown and didn't think to invite your friendly neighbourhood barbarian? I'm hurt."
☾
Before the vanishing of Will Byers, there was the strange case of Teresa Hopper.
After the strange case of Will Byers, there was the...
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A box and a couple of bags lined up along the wall, anticipating the move ahead of them, all safely sealed for the journey. Collectively, they held the life of the girl trying to sleep in the bed, who couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she managed to fit her life into just a few packages. That kind of said something about her, didn't it?
That thought—mixed with words muttered as halfhearted explanations and apologies—floated around her head, tainting her dreams and nightmares. She often couldn't really tell the difference anyway.
"I'm sorry for asking this of you, Tess."
She'd practically seen it coming. Hell, if it wasn't for the reluctant pair of step-siblings down the block, she probably would have offered to move out a while ago. It was pretty obvious she didn't belong in her mother's family anymore. Perhaps she never did, but she was too young to realise.
It wasn't like Diane was her biological mother. They were brought together by circumstance, not some kind of cosmic power of family only Steven Spielberg could make interesting. So Teresa never really understood why the woman had fought so hard for her. Maybe it was just the loss. Maybe to get back at Jim. Maybe out of fear of loneliness.
In an effort to dismiss the trail her thoughts had taken, she turned onto her side, but was suddenly met with a heavier topic on her bedside table.
"I should have given these to you a long time ago."
The stack of letters seemed to shine with a new kind of light as she caught sight of them. The table was illuminated by the little bit of moonlight she let in through a gap in her curtains, but suddenly the sight made her feel sick.
Diane had handed the blue tie bound letters to her barely minutes before she went to bed. At the time, she'd felt like the air had been pulled out of her lungs. By the time she was under her covers, that feeling drifted to her stomach, which wanted to then expel the small amount of her dinner she managed to force down. Being told that her mother had been holding onto them for the years since she'd been separated from her father was just as painful.
The longer she stared at the stack, though, the more her fingers started to itch to reach and look through the papers. She just wasn't sure about giving in, what with her mother and new stepdad right next door.
Their relationship had broken down considerably more the moment the girl was sentenced less than a year ago. When Diane turned up with the letters, it was hard for Teresa to hold back the harsh words she'd had more than one opportunity to think about in detail. Maybe she should have. But she had enough self control to not hurt the people who cared about her. Or at least she thought so.
