Emptiness. A cold, dark, terrifying feeling that seems to eat away at you, spreading slowly and painfully through your body like a tumor. A huge gaping hole threatening to swallow you up at every turn, with an accompanying roar in your ears that drowns out all the other sounds, cutting you off from the world, leaving you alone and vulnerable to your inner chaos. Time just stops and you find yourself just staring numbly at the nearest object, staring at it long enough to memorize every little detail, but not taking any of it in. You don't know you're staring at the object, you can't even see it.
You try to ignore these dark emotions you're feeling by losing yourself in your favourite show, or immersing yourself in your daily homework and study. Often, for a fleeting moment, you forget how you are feeling, the current state of your life. But then you remember it almost straight away, the reminder hanging over you like a dark cloud. You just feel devoid and hollow, the constant feeling that no one cares about you or loves you, staying with you every minute of every day. The feeling that you're screaming and screaming, but no one can hear you. Or no one cares.
That was how El Hopper felt every day.
El jumped and quickly pulled the sleeves of her hoodie over her arms and making sure her arms were completely covered, wincing at the familiar high-pitched whine shouting her name impatiently. Grabbing some rubber bands from her tiny drawer, she slipped them on her wrists, carefully concealing them under her jumper. Diane hated anything that looked cheap or common. If she saw them…
El pushed that thought away immediately and rubbed her eyes, trying to forget the events of the previous night. Grabbing her school bag, she reluctantly made her way out of her tiny, plain, hospital like bedroom no bigger than a cupboard. She rushed upstairs out of the draughty basement, to the large, blindingly white kitchen where she could smell the familiar smell of pancakes.
The fresh aroma of sweetness greeted her as she stepped in. Her father was reading the newspaper at the counter and sipping his morning coffee. Sara was tucking into a pancake, pouring maple syrup all over it and eating it with gusto. If El had ever eaten like that, she would have received a hard slap, or worse. Her twelve-year-old half-sister always got away with everything. With her blonde hair, blue eyes and angelic face, she had everyone wound around her little finger. She gave El a dirty look and made a rude sign at her as she entered. El was tempted to do it back but she didn't, in fear of what emshe/em would do if she saw her, or if Sara snitched. Which she did. Constantly.
'Breakfast is on the counter,' Diane said shortly, not bothering to turn around, and immediately continued singing an oldies song on the radio. Sometimes, it amazed El how emshe /emcould change personalities as quickly, and as easily as changing clothes. It intrigued and terrified her, all at the same time.
El's father was also humming along to the song, the pair exchanging sickeningly loving looks as they sang to the lyrics. El looked away, noticing the small brown paper bag on the edge of the counter and bit her lip. Probably a stale sandwich in there. Maybe a three-day old muffin if she was lucky.
'Your algebra test from last week was an absolute disgrace,' Diane said casually in her chastising voice, but El shivered when she heard the threatening undertone. She always knew she was talking to her when she spoke like that. She never spoke to Sara or her father in that way. emMust keep quiet./em 'I will not accept a lower score than A+. And neither will your father.'
She paused, holding up her ladle in the air. 'You should be more grateful to us, young lady.' She continued, her voice on a more bitter tone. 'We expect a bit more thanks, emJane,/em if you please.' Her lip curled as she said her name, like it was poison.
El stood there, quietly taking all the abuse.
'And remember, no buying canteen food. The muffin I gave you should do fine.' emA-ha. So, it is a muffin. /em'That canteen food is far too unhealthy, and your father and I think that you're eating too much already.' Diane looked over in her direction, raising her eyebrows as she looked judgingly at her body. El swallowed, fixing her jumper hugging her slim figure self-consciously. El wasn't in any way overweight. If anything, she was probably the thinnest out of all her family. Diane was always doing this, constantly finding ways to mess with her mind.
This was Diane being nice. Most of the time, El got insults that stuck to her skin like shards of glass. And that was just the beginning.
Jim continued to read his newspaper, not looking up once. There he was again, pretending he didn't notice. That was how it always was, but El had gotten used to it now. Even when she was rushed to hospital after a serious panic attack at school when she was eight, on the same day as Jim and Diane's wedding anniversary. They had gone out to the city for the evening to celebrate, and didn't even visit her during her overnight stay.
The nurses had shaken their heads in sympathy and reassured her when they were informed that he wasn't coming, but she noticed them exchange shocked and saddened looks when they thought she wasn't looking. Looks that confirmed to her eight-year-old self that her dad didn't care. Or that he was completely blinded by his love for Diane.
Biting her lip and averting her eyes, she grabbed her school bag and lunch. 'Okay, um- see you guys later then.' Diane simply narrowed her eyes at her, pursing her lips. None of them responded, treating her as if she were part of the wall, as always. El bit her lip so hard she could almost taste blood, then pivoted and left the house.
An outsider would say, 'emWhat could you possibly have to be depressed about? You have everything! You have a perfect, loving family who support you no matter what, a huge house in the best, safest neighbourhood in town, you excel in all your subjects, your teachers love you, and you have a very good chance of getting into all the colleges you apply for!' /emThat was what everyone saw on the outside.
This was what El told herself in her head everyday as she stared at herself in her tiny bedroom mirror, chanting it to herself desperately as if saying it will make it all come true. This bullshit was what kept her going. The false pretence that her life was perfect.
The truth is that people didn't talk to her much, if at all. El was a loner - no one bothered with her, so she didn't bother with them.
Jane Hopper, the name everyone knew her by, was like a name out of a storybook. The name wanted to make her recoil. It was this false image of herself that she let everyone believe was true. El strove to be perfect, making it her life's mission to make her father proud. She needed him to be proud of her, to show him that she can achieve something. She wanted him to notice her so badly, it hurt. Diane always sneered cruelly at her attempts. Her father simply nodded, muttering a emwell-done Jane /emand returned to whatever else he was doing. El knew that deep inside, he cared. But she had learned long ago that he would always put Diane and Sara before her, without a second thought.
Bastard girl. That was what her stepmother called her behind her back, to Jim, her posh-nob friends and to her own family when they visited. El didn't flinch at the word anymore. Diane called her worse names when they were alone. She put on a false air of sickly sweetness when speaking to El in public, barely concealing the coldness and disinterest in her eyes. It was enough to fool Jim. But El noticed. Every time.
And every time they were alone, Diane could do what she wanted with her.
El hated the name Jane with a passion. It just felt wrong to her, like she was trying on clothes that were several sizes too small for her. But she knew asking people to call her El was way too personal. It was what her mother called her. Not even her dad knew that she secretly went by that name, or that she had any alternative name before she went to live with him. No one knew. And it was going to stay that way.
El winced slightly at the sharp pain as she fixed the strap of her schoolbag. The bruises from last night were still there. It seemed that as she got older, emshe /emwould find more excuses to hurt her. Her stepmother was so false. On the outside, she was the perfect mother, the perfect wife with a perfect family, lived in a perfect house, and had a perfect life. She wore perfect clothes, had a perfect reputation, and was known to be kind, generous, fashionable, charismatic emand/em beautiful. She was a prominent member of the school Board of Managements for Hawkins Elementary, Middle emand /emHigh Schools. The fact that she was on very good terms with the mayor didn't hurt either.
She organises fundraisers for charities, took part in local petitions and, most impressively, arranged celebrity visits to the local children's hospital. Diane came from a wealthy, 'old money' family, and has many, emmany /emconnections. She was the perfect example of what a successful woman should be. Everyone loved her, everyone wanted to be her. She fooled everyone in Hawkins into believing she was this picture perfect middle-class woman. Everyone but El.
em'You're worthless!', she hissed in her face as she gripped El's arm so tightly, she could feel bruises forming, her claw-like nails cutting into the delicate tissue of her skin. 'It would have been better if you were never born. You're a burden to everyone, you little piece of shit. It's a wonder your father puts up with you at all. Even your mother hated you.'/em
emShe laughed coldly and gripped El's chin so tightly it hurt and brought her face right up close to hers. The spittle flying from her mouth and landing on El's face. 'I bet she killed herself because she couldn't stand the sight of you.' She narrowed her eyes at El in hatred, and spat. 'Do us all a favour and do the same.'/em
em /em
em /em
hr /
As El walked into Hawkins High, she kept her eyes cast downwards. She moved through the crowd, trying her best make herself invisible, like always. People pushed past her and she hunched up, trying to make herself even smaller. She pulled her hood over her thick curly hair and shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowds. No one bothered her and no one gave her a second glance. She managed to reach her locker and quickly unlocked it, exchanging her books.
Maybe she wouldn't see them today. Maybe they found someone else to victimize. For a second she allowed herself to hope that maybe, emmaybe /emtoday they'd leave her alone. Sadly, she hoped in vain.
She yelped as two large hands suddenly grabbed her by the waist, sneaking around her stomach, and pressing her back against a hard chest. 'Hey, baby,' that voice murmured, sending shivers of revulsion down her spine. She squirmed in disgust, trying to shove off the person who had invaded her personal space, and was now disgustingly whispering in her ear.
'Fuck off, Troy!'
He laughed, and his goonies who were hanging around him chuckled too, clearly enjoying themselves as they watched their leader harass their classmate. Troy gripped her tighter, his hand moving down her thigh. 'Let's not be like this, Janie. You know you want me. All you gotta do is say the word.' He pulled down her hood and sniffed her hair suggestively, inhaling it with relish. El tried not to throw up in absolute revolt.
'If I had to pick between you and a cactus, Troy, I would choose the cactus!' She snapped. It was times like this when she wished she didn't have to hide her true self from everyone. It would be so much easier. No one would go near her, if they knew what she was capable of. But it was far too dangerous and too much of a risk, to herself and to the people around her. She didn't want to hurt people, even if they really deserved it. She couldn't control it, this emthing /eminside of her. The last time… El tried not to think about that day. Nowadays, she just defended herself how everyone else did - using the old-fashioned way.
El stamped on his foot as hard as possible. She heard a quiet oof, and his grip on her waist loosened. She whirled around, shoving him away, eyes blazing furiously. He was laughing, his dark hair gelled back to keep it out of his face and his handsome, boyish good-looks making every girl who comes across him fall head over heels for him. He sneered, unaffected by her outburst as he trailed his eyes up and down her form.
'You're playing hard to get, aren't you?' He took a step towards her. Just then, a voice called out over the noise, 'Mr Harrington!', causing Troy to immediately stand up straight and look up, his new respectful attitude a sharp contrast to the more leering one he had around El and his friends. 'Principal Jenkins! How are you doing today sir?' He was smiling politely, looking like a typical over eager star-pupil. El wanted to vomit.
'I'm very well, thank you for asking.' Principal Jenkins approached the group, beaming with pride at the student body president and captain of the football team. His hands clasped behind his back, he spoke, 'I just wanted to re-congratulate you on your fantastic game last night. Thanks to you, Hawkins high are moving to the finals for a third year in a row. You have done this school proud. With your leadership skills and teamwork efforts, you are a perfect example to our students.'
'Oh, no, don't thank me sir,' Troy grinned. 'It's my pleasure to represent this school. And winning for this school with my team, especially because we worked so hard to get this far.'
'That's the spirit,' Principal Jenkins said enthusiastically, clapping Troy on the back. 'If only all students were as dedicated as you are. Keep up the good work, young man. And say hello to your father for me.'
'Will do sir. Thank you.' The principal smiled proudly at him, before continuing down the corridor.
'You see Janie.' Troy approached her, grinning slyly. 'Everyone loves and respects me. It's no accident that I happen to have Jenkins eating out of my hand. Which is why it's a complete mystery to me, why you seem to be the only girl in this entire school who hates my guts.'
'You must have been born on a highway Troy, because that's where most emaccidents/em happen! Leave. Me. Alone.' She said through gritted teeth. She slammed her locker shut and shoved past the group of jocks, as they laughed off her insult. People stared as she stalked past, whispering to one another and chuckling. El avoided any eye contact with anyone and continued walking towards her classroom. She was going to be at least five minutes early, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get away from everyone.
Just when she got to the door of her classroom, her path was suddenly blocked by someone wearing designer stilettos and a tight leather skirt that showed off her curves. El groaned, not daring to look up, but she knew she was surrounded by the small pathetic posse of wannabes that followed this girl everywhere. God, she really didn't need this right now. She spoke to the school queen-bee in her usual bored tone, like she'd rather be scooping shit than bothering with the likes of her.
'What the fuck do you want Stacy.'
El looked up, glaring at her, as the other girl was at least a head taller than her. Stacy smirked at her, giving her the stink-eye. All her friends were throwing her similar looks, like she was something that got stuck to their fancy shoes.
'What happened to your hair Jane, sweetie?' Stacy feigned concern, her eyes wide and innocent, her perfect lips pouting. 'Still styling it with a weed-whacker?' She heard snickers all around her. Stacy reached out and grabbed a hank of her hair, tugging sharply and making El wince. Stacy suddenly pinched her delicate nose with her manicured nail, her nose wrinkling.
'What is that smell! Pooh Hopper, don't they have showers where you come from?'
'Silly Stacy,' Delia, one of Stacy's goonies stepped forward, smirking with her hand on her slim hip. 'They don't have showers in Hoboville.' She cracked up, as did the rest of her friends, like it was the funniest thing ever. El rolled her eyes. Even though these girls were scary as hell, compared to emher, /emit made Stacy and Troy seem like spoilt kindergarteners.
She looked over at Delia, who was laughing in a ridiculously false way and raised her eyebrows, snarking. 'Gee, Delia. Your ass must be pretty jealous of all that shit that comes out of your mouth.'
El smirked as a look of disbelief came across Delia's face. El pushed past Stacy, wanting to get to her class, but was then jerked backwards roughly. Stacy had grabbed a hank of her hair and was pulling her backwards.
'I think emJane/em here, needs a reminder, that freaks don't belong in this school. Not under my watch. Grab her!' El struggled and yelped as she felt herself being roughly restrained by the other girls and dragged towards the girl's bathroom. They gripped her bruised shoulders and she bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out.
There were at least six of them and one of her. The odds were not in her favour. She did her best to try and ignore the twitching she felt when she felt the growing urge to lose control. It was getting harder every time it happened. But this time, she didn't calm herself down.
She knew it was a terrible idea. But El had had a bad morning. She did not want to go through the rest of her day with disgusting toilet water soaked hair. Oh, fuck it, El thought, giving in.
So as Stacy's gang were forcing her into a cubicle, El snapped. She caught sight of the water in the cubicles, and lowering her head slightly, concentrating.
El was quick to duck as water shot through the opening of the toilet, and into the girl's faces. They shrieked in horror. And just like that, complete chaos arose.
Stacy and her friends were screaming and running, trying to avoid the water, only to keep slipping and sliding on the flooded floor. All the other toilets were gushing out filthy water as well. El watched the display in amusement for a moment, as her tormentors simultaneously cried about their ruined hair, make up and clothes, and tried to run for cover. She smiled to herself. It was a good feeling, getting her own back on them. During the confusion, no one saw the school freak quietly slip out into the corridor.
She approached a teacher who was passing by. 'Sir? I think the girl's bathroom is flooded.'
hr /
The story of what had happened in the girl's bathroom before first period spread around the school like wildfire. Students had taken photos and videos of Stacy and her gang as they stumbled out of the bathroom, a sopping mess and they were already the laughing stock of the school. It was rumoured that Stacy went home early from the embarrassment.
All the teachers and students assumed it was simply a plumbing problem. It was a shitty school building anyway, there were always pipes leaking or mouldy ceilings. Last semester, there was even a rat infestation. A mechanic had already been brought in to fix the apparent plumbing problem. El, as usual, kept her head down and worked while the rest of the class whispered about the toilet incident. El knew she shouldn't feel worried. Stacy and her group wouldn't think she had something to do it, not without convincing everyone that they were crazy. But El couldn't help but feel slightly anxious.
So, she spent the rest of the day avoiding Stacy's posse. Thankfully they seemed to be avoiding her too, clearly humiliated about the unexpected turn of events. But El caught them glaring at her suspiciously several times. They clearly suspected she had something to do with the toilets malfunctioning. Or they were just super pissed that their bullying led to their uber-humiliation.
El wandered around the library, running her hand along the spines of the books. She always sat here during lunch. No one usually came here, and it was so much more peaceful than the noisy canteen. El kept her sleeves pulled up as she pulled out books from the shelves. She could feel her arms stinging slightly, the healing cuts not reacting well to the fibres of her hoodie. The memory of what had happened the previous night rushed through her brain, but she pushed it back, not wanting to think about it.
Of course, Stacy would be back for revenge, El thought absentmindedly, but whatever she had planned, it couldn't be any worse than her current life with emher/em.
hr /
El stayed on after school for a few hours to help build the set for the school musical, which was emOklahoma/em. El wasn't the world's greatest artist, but the drama department were short on help. She didn't hesitate in volunteering. It meant she didn't have to go back to the house straight away after school. She enjoyed painting some of the backgrounds and helping with the props, but honestly? That wasn't the real reason she had volunteered, apart from avoiding the house.
El watched in fascination as the actors rehearsed a scene, pausing from painting a tree with her brush in mid-air, to focus on them. They jumped into a song, a joyful and eager one, and El was in complete awe as she watched. The actors slipped into the dance routine, singing at the top of their voices. Acting and musical theatre was something El had always enjoyed. But she didn't dare try out for school productions. She had once made the mistake of talking to her family one night at dinner about her drama teacher praising her acting ability. El was genuinely proud that she had impressed her teacher, and that she was good at something she loved.
But Diane, hating to see her happy about anything, laughed coldly. 'Acting and drama, is it now? What will it be next Jane, hmm? Dancing? Art? I won't have you try to pursue this vulgar hobby. You need to get rid of this silly, unrealistic idea of yours, or there will be consequences.' Her father, as usual, agreed with Diane.
El received a bruising on the right side of her face that night, which she dismissed to her teachers as having acquired it when she bumped into a street light. Sara had snickered that day, asking if she was born with two left feet or did she practice, ridiculing her and making Diane laugh cruelly. Her father either didn't notice, or accepted her lame excuse. No one at school seemed to care either. El had opted stay silent at the dinner table from then on.
El sighed, and returned to her painting. Two more years until graduation. Then she could leave this damned place. Then, and only then, was she free.
hr /
It was approaching half seven when she left the school building. Her father, stepmother and Sara probably already had dinner back at the house. Most likely, they barely noticed, presumably relieved that they wouldn't have to put up with her. Doubtless, the dishes were still on the table, waiting for her to clear up after them, and do her usual routine of washing up. El walked along the road, thinking about the rehearsals, wistfully trying to imagine herself on that stage, singing and acting her heart out. It made her feel warm and fuzzy, at the thought of it. Sadly, her dream was not meant to be.
She was so zoned out, that she didn't hear the distant shouts of drunkards, didn't hear the clanking of cans as they were thrown onto the pavement. Then she heard her name being called out
She whirled around to see some members of the school football team hanging around one of their cars, drinking. They were grinning in her direction, crowing and whistling.
'Jane, Janie-Jane come to join the party?' Troy slurred as he walked towards her. He was grinning like he had won a prize and was looking at her like she was a piece of meat. El looked around desperately, trying to see if anyone else was around, who could help her. The school was only a quarter of a mile away. But the forested street was completely devoid of humans, apart from them. Before she could react, he had slung his arm around her shoulder and was dragging her towards the group.
Troy couldn't do much in school, when they were under teacher's noses, but here he was outside of school premises with his friends, alone and unsupervised, and worst of all, drunk as hell. El felt that horrible feeling of vulnerability creep over her. "Let me go," she demanded. She pushed Troy away and started to walk hurriedly away.
'Hey, where you going? You're not going anywhere, baby girl. Come here.' El fearfully started to pick up her pace. Troy suddenly leapt in front of her, looming over her and surrounding her within seconds. Heart leaping to her throat and panic tearing through her, she tried to break away from them, but someone caught her from behind, restraining her and pulling her up against their huge, bulky body. El froze. Oh God, she thought, bile rising to her throat. Oh God no. Please no. Anything but this.
'Oh, you're not going anywhere,' Troy was saying in her ear, his breath smelling heavily of alcohol. His hand reached down behind her and grasped her behind. El shrieked in fury, attempting to stamp on his foot again, missing it during her panic.
"What's the matter?" Troy laughed. "Don't you want to have fun with us?"
'Let me go! Let me go Troy! emLet me go!' /emShe screamed. She felt his sweaty hand clamp tightly over her mouth. She bit down on his hand harshly, tasting blood and Troy growled in pain.
He snarled, and without giving her time to resist, she felt more hands clamp on her face and her legs were suddenly grabbed forcefully, hands gripping her tightly as she felt herself being dragged away. She struggled feebly against her captors stronger, more built physique, and despairingly kicking out at them, crying out and shrieking helplessly. They were going to do this. They were going to violate her in the most awful way possible.
'She's a feisty one, this one. I want a go when you're done with her Troy.'
'Easy guys,' Troy snarled. 'I'm doing her first!' El desperately bit at the hands that were clamping down on her nose and covering her mouth. She couldn't get any air in her lungs, what with her screaming and crying for help at the same time. Her tears flowed in heavy torrents as she sobbed.
'God shut her up, will you Troy. I can't stand listening to her fucking whimpering.'
Suddenly, Troy's meaty hand grabbed her by the throat, squeezing. She spluttered and choked, feeling herself being forcibly thrown against something hard and wiry. A fence? Her arms were restrained by two of Troy's goonies, who were also covering her mouth, and forcing her head upwards. They were just too strong for her. Her hoodie was zipped down and she felt hands travel up inside her top. Troy was right on top of her against the fence, trapping her. She struggled against his hands that were still trying to choke her.
'Shhh.' Troy shushed her. 'We're gonna have some fun, baby. Relax, okay, just relax.' Troy whispered in her ear and she heard him unzip his pants.
Something in El snapped for the second time that day. Her heart rate increased and she suddenly found it difficult to hear. Her fear disappeared and anger boiled up inside of her, consuming her. All that rage came out faster than magma, and just as destructive. She lost control over herself. All she knew at that moment, was that she wasn't going to let them do this to her.
There was a rush of wind as Troy was thrown backwards by an invisible force. His back colliding with a bin. Before his friends had time to react, they too found themselves flung away from her in different directions. Some hitting the wall of the school, others crashing into bins and some simply on the tarmac. Shrieking and swearing as they flew to the air, stopping abruptly as they landed roughly.
El didn't stick around. She ran.
She had no idea where she was going. She didn't think nor did she register the fact that it was getting dark and storm clouds were gathering. She just knew that she had to run as far away as possible. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her breath came in short gasps.
Gut-wrenching, heart pumping— after several thrusts forward her legs became tired. But her legs kept moving. At the speed she was going, she could barely see a few metres ahead of her. A few droplets of rain landed on her face. Within minutes it was lashing rain. El didn't bother pulling her hood up. Her hair was soon plastered against her head, having lost its usual volume.
But she didn't notice, instead continuing to run, her feet flying over the tarmac. Her shoes slammed through puddles, causing mud and water to slosh up her legs. Her calves burned but she ignored it.
She had no idea what part of town she was in, and she didn't care. The dim street lights illuminated the buildings as she sprinted past. She lifted her eyes for a moment, and saw the derelict buildings, the graffiti covered walls, the paths littered with bins, and the rundown apartment blocks that were a far cry from the part of Hawkins she lived in.
She had somehow reached the West side of Hawkins. The worst place possible that she could have ended up in. The town's poorest district, where the Hawkins crime rate was at its highest, where gangs roamed the streets dealing drugs, where vandalism was considered a full-time hobby, where the Hawkins trailer park resided and where, as the town's chief of police, her dad spent ninety-five per cent of his time chasing down criminals.
Now fully aware of her whereabouts, El noticed that her lungs were on fire and there was a horrible stitch in her abdomen, that was so painful it made her double over. She winced at the pain, holding her hand to her stomach and slowed down, her legs nearly giving out.
El was bending down, struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do emanything /emat that moment. She couldn't even cry, her eyes having lost the ability to produce tears a long time ago. There was a silence to her soul and numbness to her heart as she struggled to recap what had just happened to her.
She felt like throwing up.
She had lost the ability to move or to feel. She could only hear the rumbling sounds of the engines as they get closer and the emthump thump thump/em of her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She was in a trance, her eyes staring straight ahead of her and the emptiness filling her up. Her fists were clenched so tightly, that she could feel the nails digging into her. She shivered as she walked slowly, the cold finally getting to her. She rubbed her forearms up and down, trying to keep herself warm.
How could this have happened to her? Plain Jane Hopper of all people, she thought miserably. It was her fault. It had to be. She must have really annoyed Troy during the confrontation that morning. Or maybe she did something that made them think she - wanted it. Bile rose up in her throat at the mere thought of it.
She rubbed her eyes, her fingers trembling. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry...
Then she began to run. She didn't know why. Maybe it she was trying to take control of her actions again. Or maybe she just wanted to run until she dropped dead. She ran and ran, past a petrol station, a garage, a hardware store, derelict houses. She reached a crossroad, not pausing to see if there was any traffic as she sprinted across the road.
She just about registered the loud screeching of wheels against the tarmac as several bikers braked sharply and roughly.
She skidded to a halt, flinching, as the head lights from the four motorcycles hit her, blinking in the sudden brightness. Rain dripped from her soaking clothes and she shivered, her chest moving up and down as she took huge breaths. The motorcyclists roared abruptly to a halt to avoid hitting her. The motorcycle in the middle was braking faster than necessary, causing the rider behind him to accidently bump against his vehicle, resulting in a loud scraping sound and accompanied with a loud swearing. They roared to a halt when they were about twenty feet away, their engines still running. She stood there, feet suddenly frozen to the ground.
'What are you, drunk?' one of them shouted to her. She heard the threatening, furious undertone in his voice. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?'
They were all wearing helmets and donning expensive looking black leather jackets. Even though she couldn't see their faces, she knew from their body language, that their eyes were burning into her. Gang members, they had to be.
She let out a cough. 'Sorry," she muttered, holding up her hands in a half shrug and turning to leave.
'You're from east side aren't you?' The angry guy spoke again. She couldn't tell which of them said it. 'What's a rich girl like you doing in West side, hm?'
That comment made her stop in her tracks. emRich girl? /em Was that a fucking joke? She didn't even emown/em any designer clothes. Slowly she turned to face them again.
The middle biker leaned forward on his motorcycle. El couldn't move, as he spoke slowly to her, 'I asked you a question. Rich kids like you shouldn't come here, especially not at night. Shouldn't you be off getting your manicure done or something?' His friends sniggered at that.
Oh, he did emnot/em just say that. She clenched her fists. She didn't have the damn energy to be dealing with this. She just pitted him with a dirty look, and held up her middle finger at him, before turning and walking off, pulling her hood over her head as he did so.
She heard exclamations as she strode off. 'Did she just -?'
'Shit, did that just - ?"
She didn't turn around. She just kept walking. She didn't know where she was going. She had only gone twenty yards when she heard several feet slapping against the tarmac. She picked up her speed, but the next thing she knew, someone grabbed her by the shoulder whirling her around.
'Not so fast, kiddo.' It was the larger one, who had grabbed her shoulder. His look was almost playful, like threatening people was something he enjoyed. He had the body of a professional MMA fighter, his muscles clearly straining against his t-shirt, and his leather jacket barely fitting his torso. He grinned at her toothily. It almost seemed friendly. 'Aren't you going to introduce yourself?'
She drew back. He held up his hands. 'Sorry. I meant to say, why are you wandering around all alone?' He seemed genuinely curious
She didn't answer, her gaze moving to the others. The second guy didn't have his bulky physique. His face was etched into a permanent scowl, his dark skin almost blending with his entirely black wardrobe, like what the all the other bikers were wearing. He wore a khaki band around his head.
She blinked, wrapping her arms around herself.
'We don't mean any harm,' the guy who called her rich girl said again. His voice was quiet and had a monotone sound to it. 'Do you need any help?
El turned and opened her mouth to tell them to piss off and leave her alone, anything, emanything /emto get herself out of this goddam situation. But words left her as she suddenly met two dark brown, almost black eyes, staring intimidatingly down at her. Her mind went completely blank and she was suddenly unable to find her voice, rendered totally speechless.
El had seen many good-looking boys at her school, Troy being one of them. But they suddenly seemed plain in comparison to the person standing before her. They had absolutely nothing on him. El couldn't register what she was seeing at first.
High cheekbones and a strong jawline sharply accentuated his features, his dark eyebrows furrowed together in a scowl as he glared at her. He seemed a little older than her, maybe eighteen or nineteen? His physique was strong and muscular looking and his hair was a mass of dishevelled curling, ebony-black locks untidily slicked back. Which was no soaked in the rain.
All of that was ruined by the fact that he was staring at her with a hint of undisguised contempt, though his voice didn't show it. 'I see you've wandered a long way away from home, rich girl.'
She was struck dumb, unable to get a word out. From fear or awe, she wasn't sure. He was wearing tight denim jeans slung low and tucked into black combat boots, and a t-shirt underneath his leather jacket.
The bigger guy shook his head. 'I don't know what the hell you think you're doing here, woman. You townies aren't welcome here in case you don't know. We don't take well to emintruders /emhere in the Westside. This is hydra ground, where you're standing on. But since you're not one of those cowardly little rich boys who come here to mess with us, or anyone of authority in your side of the town, we're gonna just let you off. Call your parents or whatever, and get them to pick you up.'
She said nothing, instead holding his stare stonily.
The guy with the bandana spoke up. 'And not to mention you messed up my motorcycle. It might mean nothing to you, but that Suzuki means a fucking lot to me. All you spoilt Hawkins girls are the same, you get everything handed to you on a silver plate. You're just all just a fucking stereotype. You probably get whatever you want from your fancy suburban parents,' he said, sneering at her.
'Sinclair,' the dark haired boy said, and the guy called Sinclair stopped talking. He tilted his head, studying her carefully.
Then he sighed through his nose. 'Look, I'm not trying to start anything here. I'm not here to hurt you and I don't wanna cause any trouble. Not unless it's necessary.' Even though his words were supposed to bring her relief, it didn't slow down the banging of her heart against her chest. 'You should know that you're walking around dangerous territory. And girls like you shouldn't be out here, alone or not. I don't care what your excuse is. There's all kinds of disgusting individuals living around here.'
'Can you not talk either? What, do I have to communicate with sign language?' He said sarcastically. El pressed her lips together, not answering.
He pulled out a cigarette and holding it in his mouth, lit it with a lighter, all the while not taking his eyes off her. 'You're either stupid, or brave for coming into gang territory,' he said finally. 'I'm going to go with stupid.'
She clenched her fists, even as heat seeped up her neck.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her. 'What do you think, Sinclair? Is she mute?'
'Nah boss, you're probably just scaring the shit out of her.'
That remark snapped her out of her silent state. 'Scared? Of a few kids on motorbikes? Why?' she said scornfully, smirking at them mockingly. 'All I see are teenagers trying to act all tough and manly in order to scare people.'
She immediately wished she'd stayed quiet. 'So. She emdoes/em talk.' The bigger guy said, chuckling. 'Man I was getting worried that we'd have communication problems.'
'Do you have to turn everything into a joke, Henderson?' Sinclair snapped. 'She just ruined my bike.'
'Calm down, Sinclair, it's just a scratch.' The big guy rolled his eyes at El, mouthing 'don't mind him'. She blinked in surprise.
'Tell me,' the dark haired guy spoke up. 'What exactly gave you the right to give me the middle finger, huh? I don't know you. I don't think I've ever seen you before. So, it couldn't be anything I did.' He simply watched her, his empty eyes burning a hole in her. He smirked. 'Trust me. I'd remember you if we had met.'
El's ears grew hot, and she shook with anger. Men were all the same. Pigs, the lot of them. They only saw women as a bunch of body parts. She forced her arms to stay where they were, not giving him the satisfaction of showing her insecurities, and glared at him, daring him to say something.
He stared at her face, his eyes narrowing. She was suddenly aware of a stinging sensation on her cheek. Touching it, she realised that there was a small cut.
The biker with head band chuckled sardonically, sounding slightly amused. 'Oh dear, did one of your rich pom-pom friends accidently break your nail? Your lipstick?' The others chuckled. Looking up warily, El was surprised to see something strange in his eyes. His brows furrowed together in a scowl as he stared at her cut, almost as if it bothered him. 'Looks like you got into a disagreement.'
'I'm fine,' she snapped. She honestly didn't care. She just wanted to get away from them as soon as possible.
'Well you've clearly had quite a day if you're careless enough to make other people angry,' he said simply, still smoking.
'What the hell to do you want from me?', she shouted angrily. 'An apology? Kiss your feet? Just leave me be.'
'Oi,' the dark-skinned guy growled at her. 'Watch your mouth, rich girl.'
The dark-haired guy held up his hand. His friend fell silent, but he continued to look at El as though she was dirt. The guy stared at her with an unreadable expression. Then he sighed, looking down at her in an almost pitying way. 'You've got a lot of nerve, princess. Your actions will get you into trouble someday.' He shrugged. 'I'm just saying.'
'Call me princess one more time, and your motorbike will get a lot more than just a scratch,' she hissed angrily.
'What's a princess like you doing here, anyway?', he said, ignoring her. 'Got bored of all the pathetic football players? Decided you'd come to Westside, looking for real men?'
His cronies laughed. 'He's not wrong.' The bigger guy smirked.
'So, what!', she snarked, mouth moving before she could stop herself. 'You'd consider yourself a emreal/em man?' She gave a scoff, looking up at him with disinterest. He was still boring his eyes into her own intensely, smiling faintly. 'Oh, believe me. I know I am.' He smirked, looking up at his friends. "We all are."
'Right. Okay. So, you're cocky, emas well /emas conceited and ego-inflated. Oh yes, you're the very image of what men should aspire to be.' She heard the sharp intakes of breaths all around her, and she immediately knew that she had stepped out of line with him, something none of them dared to do. It made her feel slightly triumphant.
The dark haired guy's smirk faded slightly, and his expression somehow became cooler.
El felt the fear travel through her veins, but even though logic was screaming at her to shut up, she kept talking. She had a long, messed up day and she needed to give this asshole a piece of her mind. Just like at the house, where she always has to mask her fear, she maintained a defiant face with him, refusing to back down. She couldn't show him any weakness. It was too late for that now anyway.
I don't need to deal with conceited pricks like you, who think the best way to go through life is to threaten every person they come across. What, does scaring people make you feel powerful?' She gave an emotionless laugh. 'Pathetic.'
She didn't know what was going to happen. She certainly wasn't expecting the guy to suddenly start laughing. Not sarcastically. But in a genuinely amused way. He turned away as he chuckled, shaking his head, his dark eyes crinkled in a way that somehow made him look more attractive.
She stared at him. So did his friends. In a baffled sort of way, like they had never seen him laugh before. And his laugh was – nice. The sound of it appealed to her ears.
He met her gaze again, still smiling. 'You have no idea who you're talking to, do you?"
El glared, not liking this sudden change in his demeanour. 'Why should I care?
'Um, boss?' One of his cronies called out to him. The big one with the toothy grin. He sounded slightly apprehensive. The dark haired guy simply ignored him. He cocked his head. 'I don't think I've ever come across someone who-' he shook his head, disbelief in his gaze. 'What's your name?'
She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Why the hell would I tell you?'
'Boss.'
'emWhat!' /em, the guy hissed, whirling around.
'Cops are here.' It was the fourth biker talking, whom El hadn't really noticed, up until now. He looked smaller than the others, and unlike them, his stance was more serious and solemn, rather than threatening. His posture was stiff, and his boyish face was rigid with alarm. El saw the approaching cop car, the lights flashing.
'Come on, boss, let's get outta here.'
'All right, fine.' But he turned towards her again, his expression unreadable. This time, El swallowed as she maintained intense eye contact with him, unable to look away.
'This isn't a safe place, princess. Especially for someone like you. Don't ever thinking about coming back here again. It'll get you killed or worse.' He glared at her. 'Got that? Now go on home.'
'Go burn in hell, why don't you,' she hissed, and walked away. 'Oh believe me. I'm trying,' he called after her, laughing.
The two cop cars pulled up. El turned around and immediately stiffened when she saw the occupant in the bigger car. A mixture of relief, anxiety and fear ran through her, her head spinning.
El's dad got out of the truck, immediately stopping in his tracks when he saw her. His expression changed from surprise to concern to confusion, to something unreadable. The tension was palpable. El held her breath nervously as they stood there, waiting for the other to talk first. After what seemed like forever, he motioned towards his truck. 'Get in.' El didn't to be asked twice, darting away from the group of bikers and getting into the passenger seat of the truck.
El watched as her dad approached the group, in an intimidating manner. It was only then that El noticed that all their leather jackets were embossed on the back with a red symbol. It looked like many headed snake-like creature. Flames licked from their mouths and formed a circle around them.
emHe /emstepped forward with a cold, hard expression and stared her father down as he came closer. Whoever he was, El knew that he had some kind of authority here in the Westside. El had never seen anyone stand their ground in front of her dad, emthe police chief/em. He was looking at her father as if he was dirt under his shoe, his mouth in a tight sneer.
She didn't want to watch the exchange any more than going back to the house, too afraid of what she might see, and instead closed her eyes, breathing in and out and trying to slow her heart rate. El was surprised when her father got into the car after only five minutes. She opened her eyes and saw that he was just standing by the open door leaning in. He was silent for a minute or so.
'So, Jane,' he finally spoke in a gruff tone. He didn't sound happy. 'Are you going to tell me why I found you in the rain, after eight o' clock at night, when you should have been at home doing your chores, in emWestside /emof all places - and in the company of emthem/em?' He jutted his head towards the bikers who were still hanging around, standing about thirty yards away. Silently watching them. El opened her mouth to ask what he meant by his sharp 'emthem', /emas if saying their names evoked fear in him. But she thought better of it.
'I- I was helping out with the stage for the school play, and it got pretty late I guess.' El said quietly, biting her lip as she desperately tried to think of an excuse as to why she didn't go back to the house afterwards. Jim looked over at her eyebrows raised, waiting for her to continue. 'And?'
'And- ', El contemplated whether she should tell him. But she quickly and reluctantly dismissed the idea, even though it was painful for her. He probably wouldn't believe her. No one would. Those boys were the pride and joy of the school. Any kind of allegation against them would be ignored. Unfortunately, this had happened before. Several times in fact. A couple of years ago, a sophomore girl had come forward with allegations of sexual assault against the football team. As far as El knows, they were never charged. The girl eventually left Hawkins and transferred to another school, after receiving threats and blackmail notes. That, funnily enough, was also never investigated. The school covered it up instead of dealing with it. Hush money from the players rich and well-to-do families probably didn't hurt either. That was the kind of shitty school system they had. Power and money ruled there. It was all fucking corruption at this fancy ass school.
And as for her dad? He might be the police chief, but El knew better than anyone that he would dismiss it as fiction, despite her being his daughter. Diane had made sure that he couldn't believe anything she said. And he always listened to Diane over her. Besides, just thinking about the encounter with Troy, made her feel dirty and ashamed. She knew what people said – that the victim was never to blame. But El was distraught, enough so that just thinking about talking to someone about it, was impossible. She took a deep breath. 'And I decided to go for a little walk, and I got lost.'
'You got lost.' El heard the doubt in her father's voice.
'Yeah. It was dark and the rain made it hard to see. It-it was raining pretty h- '
'Okay, okay, I get you kid.' He waved his hand dismissively, cutting her off. 'What I'm really wondering, is how the emhell /emyou ended up meeting those – those emthugs/em. Pure chance, was it? I don't think so. What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?' She was surprised to hear the agitation in her father's voice. Like he was worried about her. She felt a surge of happiness. He did care.
'They did, didn't they. My colleagues and I are doing what we can to arrest those scum, but they have too much protection from outside forces. But now, we can finally charge them of something where have actual proof. You just have to tell me what they did to you, kid. More specifically what did emhe /emdo to you. I saw him touching you. All we need is some kind of proof - and they're going to jail. It would be the first time a hydra got arrested in God knows how long.'
She felt her mood plummet when he said those words, and it felt like a knife had been lodged in her chest. She stared straight ahead of her as he rambled on about the potentially great achievement of finally catching at least one of the gang members. Over a charge of alleged assault or harassment. El knew that if she told her dad that they hurt her, they would be arrested, without any real proof that they emwere/em guilty, whereas Troy's attempted assault would be covered up, and she would be labelled a liar and a slut. It was all because of class difference. The rich people hid behind their money and wealth like cowards, while the poorer people were blamed for everything, simply because they were on the wrong side of the tracks. El had never felt more disgusted in her life.
So, she simply said, 'No actually, I was – was just asking them for directions.'
He stared at her in disbelief. 'You asked them for directions?' She took a deep breath and nodded. Lying was a serious offence in their house. Diane always thought she was lying, and was always making up excuses so she could find a reason to-
Well. Enough about that.
'Are you sure Jane?' Her dad looked at her, doubt written all over his face. She confirmed to him that she was telling him the truth. Her dad looked furious, discomfort and annoyance clearly showing in his stance. He gruffly told her to wait there. El watched him go back over to the bikers.
After what looked like a stiff, brief exchange, along with what looked like a few threats, her dad got back in the car. El looked over at the bikers and watched as they each got on their motorcycles and drove away. She watched as one of them stopped half way up the street, and remained there, surveilling them. Her dad didn't seem to notice. El shivered as she stared at his dark helmet facing towards the car.
'Sorry, Dad.' She said not taking her eyes off the distant figure. She wasn't sure what she was apologising for, but she knew that was probably what he wanted to hear.
Her dad scoffed. 'Didn't I tell you and your sister to avoid the Westside at emall/em costs. I did it for a reason kid. Those hydras are dangerous! I was trying to protect you from them, not to mention the entire town!'
She frowned at the word hydra. That was what emhe, /emhad used to describe himself and his goons. In a plural sense, like it was for more than one person. Like a gang.
'Who are they? Are they a gang? The hydras?' She questioned her father.
He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead and scowling. 'Yeah. Yeah, they are. They're the worst kind out there, kid.' He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, reluctantly continuing. 'They call themselves, the 'Shadow Hydras'. They run the Westside. Everything here belongs to them, it's their own territory. I mean, their territory goes embeyond/em Hawkins. They run all kinds of illegal underground trades, with drugs, weapons, you name it. They have connections to some cartels and they even controlled some members of the police force before I joined. These days, we've been trying to get things under control. It was so much worse a few decades ago, it was full on corruption.'
'Oh.' El didn't know what to say. She knew that there were gangs in Westside, but gangs at that capacity of power? Here in Hawkins? She never would have guessed it. Another question was at the tip of her tongue, but she was afraid ask it, worrying about what the answer was and her father's reaction.
'Who is he?' El blurted out. emHe /emwas still there, spying on them. emWhat the hell does he want?/em emWhy doesn't he just go?, /emshe thought to herself anxiously. 'That tall guy with the dark hair. Who is he?'
He grimaced and avoided eye contact with her as he reluctantly spoke. 'He's the worst one of all.' El watched him carefully. Her father hesitated before continuing. 'They call him 'the Hell Raiser'. He's one of the emringleaders/em of the Shadow Hydras. He's one of the most dangerous gang members around. We've been trying to catch him for years, but… He's a criminal, Jane. The things he did-'. He cut off, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He suddenly seemed a lot older than he actually was.
El was frozen, her stomach locked up tight as she listened, her insides squeezing together as she struggled to absorb what he was telling her. She suddenly felt nauseous.
He turned to her, and spoke, snapping her out of her trance. 'I don't need to go into any more detail kid. Point is, they're dangerous as hell. So, from now on you emstay away/em from Westside, emunderstand!/em'
El had never been in a position with her dad, where he had shown any concern for her. Those moments were rare and it surprised her. Relief flowed through her, and she knew then, that that even though most of the time he didn't show it, and that he would always choose work responsibilities, Diane and Sara over her, deep inside some part of him did care about her. So, she nodded. 'I promise.'
He shook his head. 'Your step-mother won't be happy with you.' El's heart leapt in her throat. 'Don't tell her Dad,' she burst out, 'Please. Please I'm begging you. I swear it won't happen again, just don't tell her.' He hesitated, seeing the desperation in her expression. Sighing and shaking his head, he said quietly, 'She has to know, kid.' El sat back stiffly. She clenched her fists so tightly she felt them cut into her skin, as her father started the car.