November 6th, 1983.
Hawkins, Indiana.
"Rita, mom says there's a slice of pie left if you want it." Eric's pudgy little face is pressed up against the doorframe, his grubby little hand held on tight to the handle.
"Thanks Ric, but I'm alright. You have it." His little face lights up with pure joy at the thought of a second slice of apple pie. No-one in this house has the heart to tell him that he probably ought to lay off the second helpings of absolutely everything he eats.
"Thanks Rita!" He says in a sing-song voice before he closes the door and trots off down the stairs to claim that last slice of pie.
I return to reading my history textbook, skimming over the words knowing that they'll be stuck somewhere in my mind forever just by glancing at them. It's a blessing and a curse. I've got impeccable grades and no doubt they could take me on to any college of my choice, but there are things that I can't forget no matter how much I want to.
Tanks full of warm salt water, memories belonging to people I don't know. Terrifying memories, ones of war and torture and people in desperate pain.
My ears start to ring. A metallic taste forms in my mouth. Something tickles my left nostril and a moment later a drop of blood falls onto the page I'm reading. I reach a hand up and touch a finger to the source, taking it away to see more blood on my fingertip.
The ringing intensifies, searing through my mind and making me curl over into a ball. The pain is blinding and right in the middle of my forehead. It's not ringing at all, it's screaming I can hear. Hatred, pain, absolute terror. And all of a sudden it stops.
Pure silence. All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing. I sit up quickly, opening my eyes to the warm light of my bedroom. I don't want to remember that darkness and the only thing that stops it is light and reminders that I'm not there anymore. I have a home here. I am Rita Miller, the middle child and only daughter of the Miller family.
I can't shake the feeling that I have heard that scream before.
I wipe the blood from the page before it dries and leaves too much of a stain. I close the book and place it on the nightstand. I wipe my nose on the back of my pyjama sleeve and pull the blankets up around me, settling down in to my bed.
I sleep with the light on.
"Okay, so be totally honest, how much studying did you do for this test?" Barb asks, and as much as I want to tell her I spent hour upon hour studying, we both know it would be a complete and utter lie. I don't need to spend hours studying because things hardly ever leave my mind. They get shelved away somewhere in a box that I'm never denied access to.
"I did about an hour." It's not a lie. It took me an hour to read all the material we've been told we'll be tested on today in third period. Today's test is in American History class, about the Civil War.
Barb sighs, leaning back against her locker. "Can't you share that crazy memory of yours with the rest of us?" She wishes, clutching her books to her chest a little too tightly. She always gets so tense before a test.
"Where is Nance?" I ask, looking around the hallway for our best friend. I look down at the brown leather watch on my wrist. Class starts in five.
"Look! There she is." Barb and I wave Nancy over even though she's already headed towards us. "So, did he call?" She asks when Nancy is within earshot.
"Keep your voice down!" Nancy warns, raising her eyebrows.
"But did he?" I ask, still wanting to know the answer.
"I told you guys, it's not like that. Okay I mean yes, he likes me, but not like that. We just… made out a couple of times."
"Jesus, a couple of times? He might have sucked your brains out by now and turned you into one of those bimbos." I say, giving her a nudge with my elbow.
"Ha-ha, Rita, very funny."
"A couple of times. More than once with the same girl is practically unheard of in the same sentence as the name Steve Harrington. You might actually be the real deal." I say, and as far as his track record goes, it's the truth. Steve seems to get bored of his latest squeeze pretty easily and leaves a trail of brokenhearted girls swooning along behind him.
"Nance, seriously you're gonna be so cool now it's ridiculous." Barb says, one eyebrow raised in awe of our best friend's newfound social status.
"No I'm not, guys. C'mon."
"You better still hang out with us, that's all I'm saying. If you become friends with Tommy H or Carol, I swear…"
Nancy cuts Barb off, "Oh gross, I'm telling you it was a one time…" She looks at both of us staring at her incredulously. "Two time, thing." Nancy corrects herself, opening her locker to retrieve her books. There's a note folded up in the front that she opens to reveal a message that reads:
Meet me in the bathroom - Steve
"You were… saying?" Barb says, trying not to laugh. Nancy rolls her eyes at us and puts her books in her backpack before swinging her locker door shut.
"Guys, stop it. He'll be bored of me by tomorrow okay?" She says, but heads towards the boys bathroom anyway. "I'll meet you in Math."
"See ya later lover bird!" I call after her, she turns her head to scowl at me before sneaking into the bathroom. Barb and I head towards the classroom, laughing about how in denial Nancy is.
"Should we be worried?" Barb asks quietly, pushing open the door to our Math classroom. I frown a little; it's no secret that girls who get involved with Steve often end up disgraced and ridiculed by the rest of our classmates.
"I don't think so. Nancy's ten times smarter than his usual brand of girl. Either he's wised up and wants someone he can have an actual conversation with, or she'll be smart enough to come out of this unscathed." I decide. Barb nods in agreement, but her face still gives away her concern about our friend.
"Are you okay about all of this?" She asks in an even quieter voice. We head over to our usual desks next to each other, leaving one on the end for Nancy. I place my books down and sit down, trying to ignore the pity in her tone.
"It was just a stupid crush, Barb. I'm fine." I say. She's the only person who ever noticed me staring at Steve. Nancy was always too busy staring at him too to notice that she wasn't the only one. "It's not like it would've ever happened, I always knew that."
Barb nods and doesn't say anything, instead offering a small smile. Nancy bursts through the door just as Mr Peterson is about to start the class, face flushed and rosy, bag swinging on one strap from her shoulder. "Sorry," she exclaims, rushing toward the seat we've left free for her. She smirks a little as Barb and I turn to look at her slyly. "I don't wanna hear it." She says lightly.
At lunchtime, the routine proceeds as mind-numbingly normal as possible. Nancy, Barb and I stand in line behind our fellow classmates for the below-par food that Hawkins High School calls 'lunch' talking about how the history test wasn't quite as horrendous as we'd expected. I hear a jock behind us cough 'nerds' and his friends snigger, but I've learnt that reacting is worse than just pretending not to hear their jealous remarks.
"I fully expected to come out of that wanting to curl up in a ball and cry, and I feel okay. I'd mark that as a success." Barb says, holding her plate out over the counter to the lunch lady who spoons out some carrots and peas.
"But this lunch might make me feel that way." I say quietly, so as not to piss off the lunch ladies. Nancy and Barb both shoot me a smirk in response as we move down the line and finish collecting our lunches before we turn and head to our usual spot.
I sit next to Nancy, Barb on the opposite side of the table from us. "Mrs Byers rang up my mom this morning, I don't think Will made it home last night." Nancy tells us, picking up her fork and starting to eat her lunch.
"Really?" I ask, Will is a friend of Nancy's brother, Mike. My brother Eric is a year younger than Mike and his friends, but he's hung out with them a few times when I've been on babysitting duty and taken him with me to Nancy's.
"Maybe his dad's in town or something, staying in a motel maybe?" Barb suggests. News in Hawkins very rarely slipped under the radar, and everyone knew about Joyce and Lonnie's tumultuous divorce. Nancy shrugs.
"He'll be home soon. This is Hawkins after all." I say as convincingly as I can, but there's a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
My fork is loaded with mashed potato and on it's way to my mouth when Steve, Tommy H and Carol invade our table. The potato falls off my fork and onto my lap.
"Jeez, Rita. Who taught you how to use a knife and fork? A gorilla?" Tommy says, turning to look to Carol for reaffirmation that what he just said was insulting and humiliating enough. Her smarmy giggle confirms that sure enough, I'm humiliated.
I frown, reaching for a napkin to wipe away the rogue mashed potato from my lap.
"Guess I just wasn't expecting your company, Tommy." I manage, it's not exactly my best retort, but it's better than saying nothing at all. When I look to Barb she looks just as baffled as I am. Nancy's not exactly unsurprised, but she's too busy giving Steve gooey-eyes to really notice that this is completely out of the ordinary.
"Shouldn't you have your books out, getting ready for the next test?" Carol remarks snidely.
I open my mouth, prepared with a better retort this time but Steve cuts in, diffusing the situation before it escalates. "If anyone needs to study for that test its you, Carol." He says, flashing me a warning look. I bite my tongue, but I have other ways of getting revenge than a sarky retort.
I return to eating my lunch while Nancy and Barb chat away to Steve, Tommy and Carol having a conversation of their own. I turn my head away a little so as not to reveal the trickle of blood that's about to appear from my nose.
Through the eyes of Carol, I imagine walking in on Tommy wearing one of her dresses, twirling around her bedroom in front of the mirror and implant it somewhere deep in the back of her mind where she might stumble upon it when she least expects to. I try to hide the smirk, wiping my nose on the inside of my cardigan so the blood won't show.
"HEY! C'mere!" No-one else jumps but me.
"Whoa, what was that about? You alright Rita?" Steve says, I turn to look behind me but I can't work out where the voice came from, everyone is busy eating lunch or talking to their friends.
"Think you can steal from me boy?!" The voice rings loud in my ears this time, and I know it's not originating from the dining hall. That doesn't mean I don't flinch again, feeling the ghost of someone's hands on my shoulders.
"Uh, yeah." I shake my head, but the grip on my shoulders takes a moment longer to loosen and disappear. "Yeah, I'm just not feeling too good." I say. Nancy puts a hand on my arm, her eyes wide with concern.
"You wanna go to the nurse?" She asks, "I'll go with you."
"No it's okay, I'm fine, Nance." I smile weakly, trying to swallow down the bile that has started rising in my throat. That voice felt so real, so close. From time to time I've heard things like that before, other people's memories or things that they're experiencing. But I've never been able to feel it like that before.
When I look down the table I notice Carol and Tommy staring at me like I'm from outer space so I resist the urge to shake my whole body to remind it that those hands weren't really on me. There is a childish part of me that wants to really show them what a freak I am just to scare them into leaving me alone forever, but instead I revert to not looking them in the eye and making them think I'm intimidated by them because they're 'popular'.
The bell signalling the end of lunch rings.
"Time for Kaminsky and the wonder that is Chem." Barb sighs. Steve gives Nancy a kiss on the cheek before he departs, following Carol and Tommy who start whispering to each other the moment they are out of earshot. Tommy trips, managing to catch himself at the last minute before he fully ends up sprawling across the floor.
"Rita, you're having another nosebleed!" Nancy cries, dabbing a napkin at my face. I take it from her, tipping my head back and pinching the bridge of my nose, playing along.
"Oh god, again?!" It's half-hearted surprise, but my best friends both buy it.
"You really need to go get seen about that," Barb says, collecting all three of our trays and taking them over to the collection trolley.
"Oh guys, c'mon, they're only tiny ones." I say, swatting Nancy's fussy hands away. "See, it's already stopped." I demonstrate by taking the napkin away. Nancy frowns, tipping my chin back to look up my nostril like there's some little creature up there opening a tap to my blood supply. She lets my chin go and seems satisfied enough.
"Your brain could be leaking. You might be becoming a normal level of intelligent. Beware." She says, raising an eyebrow in warning.
"Don't wanna lose your advantage over the rest of us, Ri." Barb adds, winking for effect. I roll my eyes at the pair of them and stand up, grabbing my messenger bag and slinging it over my shoulder.
"C'mon losers, we'd best not be late for Kaminsky or he might make the test tomorrow ten times worse than he already has." I say, and the reality of Kaminsky's tests sets in, fear flashing across both their faces. Even as we're heading out the door of the dining hall, there's a fingertip or two still pressing into my back, just over my shoulder-blades.
My friends can cope with the incredible memory, but I think they'd draw the line at echoes of people's memories or experiences affecting me in real time, so I don't say anything. I try to scratch at the spot where the pressure is, and focus on everything I can see in front of me. Things that are really here, in the present and where I am. Posters lining the hallways asking for volunteers for the Middle School Snow Ball in just over a month's time, or advertising the next football game. Sign up sheets for the Musical Society and the School Council's latest proposed amendment to Hawkins High's School code. Nancy and Barb a few steps ahead of me, laughing at the rumour that Kelly Owens snorted apple juice out of her nose yesterday lunch time. The pressure eases, and finally, disappears. I exhale slowly, realising that I'm barely breathing.
"Welcome to hell." Barb says with her hand on Kaminsky's door. We all take a deep breath in anticipation as Barb pushes the door open and we head into the classroom for an hour of pure delight.
Though I've tried before to tell her of the feelings I have for her in my heart…
"Really Rita? That freakin' song, again?!" Thomas hangs in my doorway, an eyebrow raised. I turn away from my desk to smile at him, shrugging.
"What can I say, it's a masterpiece."
"Yeah, but not after the forty-seventh time it isn't." He says, shaking his head. "Don't you get fed up of having to rewind the tape?"
I don't answer for a moment, rolling my lips together as I contemplate how to explain that I made a tape of the song repeated several times so I didn't have to rewind it every time.
"You didn't…" He says when he realises without me having to explain. He starts laughing. "Anyway, loser, me and dad are off to help the search party for that Byers kid."
"He's still not home?" I ask, feeling nauseous. Thomas shakes his head silently. "Oh God." I don't have it in me to say anything else, and neither does Thomas as he gives a short wave and heads down the hall towards the stairs. I turn back to my desk, putting my head in my hands.
I'd always wondered how long it would be before something like this would happen. I'd hoped I would've come up with a plan long before it did, but time has apparently run out for that. I press the stop button on my cassette player and stand from my desk, walking to the window where I watch my dad and brother get into the car and drive away to go look for Will. I sit down in the window seat, resting my head against the cool glass and close my eyes as I try to push unwelcome memories back where they belong.
When I open my eyes I see a figure pushing a bike up a driveway. Nancy's little brother, Mike. I frown, there's no way Mrs Wheeler would let him out at night when his friend is missing. I undo the latch on my window and push it up, wiggling underneath it so that I'm half hanging out the window.
"Mike, where are you going?" I hiss, trying to be loud enough that he hears me, quiet enough that my mom or Eric don't.
He looks around him for a moment before he realises where my voice came from and looks up at the window, bewildered.
"Rita?" He asks, squinting until he confirms that it's me. "I'm going to look for Will. With my friends."
"Did your mom say that was okay?" I ask even though I already can guarantee the answer. He falters for a moment, the lie on the tip of his tongue but he decides against it and shakes his head.
"Please don't tell." He pleads. Honestly, it doesn't even enter my head to go running to either of our parents. If it was my friend, I'd be out there too, no matter who told me I wasn't allowed.
"Just be careful, okay. And don't get lost in those woods." I say, and Mike smiles in disbelief.
"Thanks, Rita. I won't." He says, swinging his leg over his bike and riding off. I watch him ride down the road until he's out of sight before I pull myself back inside and close the window. I grab a blanket from my bed and wrap it around myself, sitting back down with my head against the window. I take a deep breath and let it all back in. Three years worth of failed ideas return to the surface, buzzing around like they're electrified and full of new life.
A/N: IT'S YA GIRL, BACK ON HER BS writing a fic she probably doesn't have time for but cannot resist anyway! My head is stuck somewhere in the Upside Down with no escape in sight... so here's my newest child... Rita Miller. I hope you all will grow to love her as much as I do, and you know the drill, head over to wild-stdreams on tumblr for edits and even better, check out fyeahstrangerthingsocs on tumblr too (#plugging... heh). Please leave a review - even if it's something I could do better and thank you for reading! xo