Chapter Six: Look At This Photograph

"Daisy Mae Clearwater, birth date October 27th, 1967?"

I turned to see an unfamiliar face smiling down at me from the other end of the waiting room. Judging by the long, white coat and the stethoscope wrapped around his neck, he seemed to be a doctor here, yet I had never seen him before. "Uh, yeah," I said, a little confused. "I'm supposed to be seeing Dr. Johnson." It came out more as a question than a statement.

"Dr. Johnson is out of the office right now," he said. "I'm Dr. Owens. We can reschedule for next week if you're uncomfortable."

I stood up and awkwardly shook his outstretched hand, readying myself to follow him back into the exam room. "No, it's okay."

He smiled at me once again. "We'll be in room eight."

As I followed him through the first hallway, I started to get an eerie feeling. Normally, there were just a few doors that I would be led through, but this felt like it was one hallway after the next before we finally ended up in a separate room that I had never seen before. There were colorless, cement walls on all four sides and none of the usual hospital art that was hung up throughout the building. In the middle of the room was a regular hospital bed with a bunch of stray wires hooked up to some machine that I wasn't familiar with.

Dr. Owens seemed to notice my hesitation, because he was quick to offer me the reassurance I was needing. "Looking at your file, I'm surprised you've never seen one of these before. It's an electroencephalogram." A what? "We call it an EEG for short. It maps out the electrical activity in your brain." I looked over at him, very unsure about this futuristic looking machine. "Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. I just want to ask you some questions and rule out a few things." I nodded slowly before crawling onto the bed. He seemed easy enough to trust.

"Okay," I muttered.

He offered me a light smile as he made his way over to where I was sitting. I watched as he connected each cord until he had formed a makeshift helmet and placed it on the top of my head. At first, it was a little uncomfortable. It felt like I was wearing a hat that was two sizes too small, but maybe it was supposed to fit like that. "There we go," he said, taking one last look before flipping on the machine that everything was connected to. "Can you give me your name and date of birth?"

"Daisy Clearwater, 10/27/67," I answered with a shaky tone.

"Good, and what are you here for?"

"Nightmares," I mumbled, a little bit embarrassed to admit it at my age. "I've been fainting and having nightmares."

"And what do you see in these nightmares, Daisy?"

I felt my heartbeat start to speed up at just the thought of it. "I keep seeing this place." Memories of each nightmare started flooding back to me, from the first one inside my bedroom to the one I had had last night. I saw their faces, Will and Barb. I saw that horrendous monster, the fear creeping back over me as if it was standing right in front of me. "It's like our world but different. There's these big, faceless monsters that are like three times my size, and sometimes I can see other people."

Dr. Owens looked up from the notes he was taking for just a split second, seemingly taken back at what I had said. "What do you mean you can see other people?"

"I'm not sure. It's only happened two times. The first time, I saw Will."

"Will? The missing boy?"

I nodded. "I passed out in the bathroom at school, and I woke up, and he was just there. I couldn't hear anything he was saying, but I could feel it. He started writing on the mirror so he could talk to me."'

"You couldn't hear him? Are you able to hear anything in these nightmares?"

I shook my head. "No, but it's like I can feel the noises in the air."

He nodded his head up and down very slowly, turning back to his notes to continue writing, sometimes glancing over at the machine that I was hooked up to. "And you said you've seen two people so far? Was the second one also someone you knew?"

"Kind of," I answered. "I've seen her around school a few times, but I never really talked to her. She had a big cut on her hand. When I saw her, it was like I could feel the monster hunting her. I tried to save her, but I—I think it got her."

His head snapped back up so fast that I was surprised it didn't pop right off. Something about what I had just said seemed to trigger him. He quickly stood up and made his way to the other side of the room. I watched him close the blinds behind me before reaching up to turn off a camera in the corner of the room. My hair started to stand on end again. I was sure there was definitely something going on now. Maybe my nightmares were more than just dreams.

"Listen to me, Daisy," the doctor turned to say, his voice much more different than it was just a second ago. "These nightmares are more than what they seem, and if you tell anyone that you've been having these, you'll have a lot bigger problems to worry about than lost sleep."

I flinched when he moved forward, his hands outstretched towards the thing on my head. "What's going on? What are you doing?"

"I'm keeping you safe," he said, pulling the helmet off of me with a couple strands of hair still wrapped up in it. "I have a medication that I'm going to give you that'll stop you from having these visions, but I need you to promise me that you're going to take them."

My heart was now beating so hard that it was about to bust out of my chest. Whatever was going on was serious, so serious that I get the feeling my life might be on the line. "What medication? What's wrong with me?"

Dr. Owens gave me a stern look. It was obvious he wasn't going to answer either of those questions. "If you don't take it, these visions are going to keep getting worse, and the wrong people will find out about them."

"The wro—," I started to question, but he cut me off before I could get another syllable out.

"Daisy," was all he said, but it was enough.

The way his eyes started to bore into mine made me want to run and hide. It wasn't necessarily that he had intimidated me, but the whole situation was not normal. The look on his face showed pure and utter terror. The creases in his forehead served as a warning sign that this was all a part of something so much bigger, and it was becoming very apparent that I wasn't going to be finding out what it was for a long time, if ever. I finally nodded my head, hoping that maybe if I agreed to do what he said, he'd tell me more about what was going on.

"Good," he said before getting up to grab something from the desk hidden in the corner of the room. "I need you to take this now and keep taking it every day."

When he turned around, his outstretched hand was now holding a small, black pill that looked like nothing I had ever seen before. I hesitated to touch it at first, but something about this doctor made me trust that he truly was trying to keep me safe. Maybe it was the way that he looked equally as concerned as I was terrified. After a few seconds of just standing there and staring at his hand, I built up the courage to grab the pill from him and throw it down my throat with a big gulp.

Neither of us said a single word about what had just happened as soon as we left the room. It's like the doctor's demeanor had changed completely, whereas I still felt completely terrified. I'm not sure what we talked about on the way back to the waiting room, because my mind kept focusing back in on the visions. I thought about the strange pill he had given me and started imagining the worst-case scenarios. Maybe he was never actually a doctor and was instead impersonating one so he could pull some kind of sick stunt to poison people like me. He had said something about meeting again next week, but I had pretty much already decided I wasn't coming back no matter what.

My only relief came in the form of Uncle Jack's smiling face poking through the waiting room to finally take me to school for the day. I wondered if I should tell him what happened in case the medication was actually some kind of poison, but I was still feeling bad about the argument we had this morning. I decided that I would wait to tell him. Dr. Owens seemed very adamant about how dangerous it'd be to tell anyone what was going on, so if I was going to tell him, it was best to wait it out for a while just to be sure.

"Hey kid," he said with a soft pat on the back. "Everything go okay?"

All I did was nod, unable to meet his eyes in fear that they'd tell him more than my words would. "It went fine."

Dr. Owens took the lead afterwards, giving my uncle some bullshit explanation about stress from school causing all of the problems I had been having. He had told him it was just anxiety, and I would be okay if I took the medication he had given me. It was all one big lie, but this guy must've been pretty convincing, because my uncle didn't ask a single question that was out of the ordinary. He wasn't suspicious, and he fed into every lie that this man was giving to him. Eventually, he took me to the receptionist to check out for the day, and we were finally heading out the door. When I turned around to take one more look at the place, I caught the eye of Dr. Owens. He didn't say anything, but he also didn't look away. Something in his eye was telling me that he meant what he said. With that, it also meant that I was in a lot more danger than he was letting on.

Uncle Jack didn't say much once we were in the car. I could tell was still feeling bad about the argument we had had earlier. I wished I could just take it back and act like I had never told him I hated him, because I didn't, but I wasn't always the best with words. I couldn't even look at him without feeling down on myself. I knew he didn't mean what he said earlier, or at least he didn't mean it how I had taken it. Now that I was basically knocking on trouble's door, the whole thing just seemed so miniscule.

"How are you feeling," Uncle Jack finally broke the silence with. "Dr. Owens said that that medication can be a little rough before you're used to it."

I shrugged, still unable to get out everything I wanted to say. "I'm fine," was all I said. I was afraid that if I had said anymore, it would be too much and he'd catch on.

He let out a sigh that sounded like it had been pent up ever since we had gotten into the car. "I know you're probably still upset about earlier, and I wanted to say I'm sorry. I overreacted." I stayed quiet as he continued on, unsure of what to say. "Sometimes I forget what it was like to be your age. I see a lot of your dad in you," he paused before adding, "before he met your mom, of course. She sucked." He chuckled just enough to drag the tiniest bit of a grin out of me. "They were the same age you are now. At first, it seemed like a great relationship. Two years later, and they got pregnant with you. Our parents didn't offer them one bit of help. They set them up to fail. It was inevitable. You weren't even a year old when they gave you to me. I just don't want to see you go down that road, because trust me, it's a tough one."

My heart swelled in my chest. "I won't turn out like them," I promised. "That's not how you raised me."

He turned to me with a huge smile on his face. Those words seemed to light him up for the day. "I know it's not, but I still want you to be safe. That's why I picked something up for you at the store."

Just as we pulled into the school parking lot, I watched him turn around to fish something out of a grocery bag he had stashed in the backseat. I was a little excited to see what he had gotten specifically with me in mind. Of course, that was until I actually saw it. Much to my horror, what he had pulled out of the bag was the biggest box of condoms that I had ever seen in my entire life. My eyes got so wide that I was surprised they didn't fall out. I quickly grabbed the box and stuffed it underneath my legs before anyone from school could see. "Oh my gosh," I said in utter terror.

My uncle, completely oblivious to the whole situation, continued on with his little speech. "I thought about it while you were at the doctor's, and I decided that if you were going to be with anyone, I'd want it to be Jonathan. I trust him, and I trust you guys together. Just don't make any stupid decisions, and don't be afraid to talk to me about anything."

Okay, but I am now terrified to talk to him about anything like this. "Uh, thanks, Uncle Jack. Is it okay if I leave this in here though?"

He nodded, still smiling, and pulled me into a hug. If I wasn't already about to die from whatever Dr. Owens was so worried about, I was definitely going to die of embarrassment. Still, I hugged him back just to reassure him that I one hundred percent forgave him, which hopefully meant we'd never have to have another situation like this again. Then I would really be dead.

Aside from the ever-growing sense of doom that had been creeping its way back into my mind the whole time, the remainder of the school day went by pretty quickly. Jonathan and I hadn't said much to each other. I had told him about the awful conversation that I had had with my uncle before coming in, and he updated me on everything he knew about Will, which wasn't much. Nothing had changed in the few hours we were away from each other, but the two of us were hopeful that we'd be able to find something from the photographs that had been taken last night.

I waited out by Jonathan's car as he stopped by the photography room to develop the photos. I had decided I wasn't going to tell him what had happened at the doctor's office. Much like how I felt with Uncle Jack, I didn't want to end up getting him hurt by pulling him into something that seemed unnecessary. I also wasn't quite sure that he would believe me if I told him. Any time I had seen anything, he brushed it off like I was crazy. There's no telling how he'd react if I told him I actually was crazy. No doubt he'd—

"Clearwater," somebody called out from the other side of the car, pulling me straight out of my rambling thoughts. I turned around to see who had shouted at me and met the eyes of the one and only Steve Harrington, followed closely by his groupies, Carol and Tommy, as well as a girl I had only ever seen leaving the photography room while I waited for Jonathan. "Where's your little boyfriend?" I cocked my head at them. He was obviously referring to Jonathan, even though he clearly wasn't my boyfriend. The confusing part was why though. He had never mentioned even speaking to Steve or the rest of his little posse before, so what on earth was going on? "What? You forget how to speak or something," he spat when I took too long to answer.

"Probably too scared she'll rat out the creep," Carol chimed in.

Before I could even ask what was going on, Steve was stepping close enough to face me, one leg bending back to rest against the hood of the car. "Were you in on it?" I raised my brow at him, completely confused. A twisted grin slid across his face when he realized I, in fact, was not in on 'it'. "So he didn't tell you he's stalking my girlfriend?"

Jonathan soon walked into view before I was able to process what anyone was talking about. Not knowing whose side I was supposed to be on, I stayed put right next to Steve and stressed about what was going to happen. Jonathan immediately noticed me and looked even more confused than I was. "What's going on," he asked, looking more towards me than the others.

"Oh, hey man," Steve greeted sarcastically. "I was just telling your girlfriend about what Nicole caught you working on earlier," he said, referring to the photography girl next to Carol and Tommy.

"Great things," Carol said.

"Yeah, sounds real cool," Tommy added.

I noticed the tension in the air thicken as Steve took a step forward, cocking his head slightly at Jonathan. "You know, as connoisseurs of art, we'd really love to take a look at it."

Jonathan's eyes darted to me for a split second before moving back to him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice wavering just slightly.

In just the blink of an eye, Jonathan stepped to move past them just as Tommy grabbed for the satchel slung over his arm, the one that held his camera and all of the pictures he had been developing. I moved to intervene, but Steve managed to cut me off before I could even get close. After dodging Jonathan's grabby hands, Tommy managed to weasel himself around and toss the bag to Steve, who conveniently stepped away from me as soon as he opened it up.

Steve glanced over at me, as if I was a part of this whole thing. "Man, your boyfriend's really trembling. It's like he's got something to hide from you." He turned just quickly enough to set the bag on the hood and snatch a stack of photos out of the front pocket. "Would you like to do the honors," he asked me coldly. All I did was stare. The tension building up in my chest was becoming too tight to breath. "Guess not."

When he held up the photos, my whole stomach dropped. I felt sick just looking at them. They were the photos that we had taken in the woods last night, only they weren't exactly photos of the crime scene. It suddenly became very apparent that the backyard I had seen yesterday belonged to Steve's parents, and it was also even more apparent that there had been a party going on. As he flipped through the stack, I saw each photo that Jonathan had taken. There were a few of Tommy, Carol, and Steve, but most of them were Nancy Wheeler.

"Yeah," Carol scoffed as they passed the photos around, "this isn't creepy at all."

"I was looking for my brother," Jonathan said.

Steve's head snapped right up to give him a death stare. "No, I think this is called stalking."

It was in that moment that Nancy herself showed up to the excitement. She looked so innocent that I couldn't help but feel bad for her. "What's going on," she asked.

"There's the starring lady," Tommy joked. "This creep was spying on us last night."

Carol then pulled out one of the photos that he had been hoarding. When I saw it, it felt like everything I knew about Jonathan had changed. The photo, like most of them, was of Nancy, only this one happened to be one taken from Steve's bedroom window. She was facing the opposite face, so it was impossible to see anything important, but it was obvious that she was naked. My heart broke.

"He was probably saving this one for later," Carol said, handing her the photo.

Steve leaned back against the car and clicked his tongue as Jonathan worked hard to avoid eye contact with not only me, but now Nancy herself. "See, he knows it was wrong, but I guess that's the thing about perverts. It's hardwired into them. They just can't help themselves." He took the photo back from Carol just to rip it to shreds in front of everyone. "So," he continued, "we'll just have to take away his toy."

Suddenly, Steve was reaching back into the satchel as Jonathan begged him not to go for the camera. I wasn't sure what to do in the moment, so I just stood there completely frozen. I felt awful. I didn't want his camera to get smashed to pieces, but at the same time, I was hurt, and I wanted him to feel it. In no way was what he did okay, but there was still the side of me that was completely in love with him that just wanted to think the whole thing was a big misunderstanding. I tried to grab the camera from him, but Steve was already slamming it onto the ground before I could get a grip on it. All I did was stare.

"Come on, let's go," he said. "'The game's about to start."

It was like a switch had flipped. One moment, I was watching my best friend being exposed by the most popular dickhead in Hawkins, and the next, I was chucking a busted piece of camera at the latter. It wasn't quite the same thing as throwing a punch, but it felt satisfying enough. "Assholes," I shouted as the group started walking away.

"So she does speak," Steve shouted back, shooting me the dirtiest look he could as the stray piece of garbage bounced off his shoulder. "Oh, and you're welcome!"

I flipped him the finger as Jonathan bent down to pick up what was left of his photos, but none of them turned back around. I looked down at him, contemplating how exactly I was feeling. Nancy had stayed back for a moment. Feeling bad for her, I offered the most apologetic expression I had ever given someone. It was the best I could do. She returned the look with a weak smile, her own apology for how her douchebag boyfriend had just treated me. Jonathan scrambled to grab everything he could before the wind blew half of the shreds out of reach. He stopped for a moment and just looked at me, his eyes foggy and wide.

"I'm sorry."

I nodded coldly. As much as I loved him, I had decided right then and there that I wasn't going to just up and forgive him for this. He hurt me, and he crossed a huge boundary with Nancy. Any girl would've felt the same. "I think I'm going to walk home."

And with that, I turned and left him scattering through a parking lot as I headed towards the only place I could think to go.