Chapter 5

~Sierra~

If I thought the streets of Hawkins were my own personal version of hell, then I had quite clearly forgotten what the grocery store was like on an evening. Glass doors sliding open and then crashing together again with disregard. Kids screaming at their parents for the Reece's Pieces that were in the sale and would remain so for the next week. This was the part of the weekly routine that I despised the most. Mostly, I hated the chance encounters. You would have thought I'd memorized all the regulars seeing how long I'd lived here. Right on time, as if I had a glimpse into the future, I spun around just as Agnes Agnew and her gang of knitters came down the dairy aisle.

Zack was too obsessed with what treats to present his favorite person in the whole world - Jonathan Byers. Ever since I had started babysitting - if you can even call it that - Will Byers a couple of years ago, Zack would enter a trance when Jonathan would pull out his Pentax MX. Zack would write in his tales of The Opposite Land how the camera could reveal the immoral and save the day. He was absolutely in love with that camera and would persistently bother Jonathan to use it. Being a nice person, Jonathan had no problems as long as the camera didn't get broken. Jonathan had always been one of those kids at school. Reserved, friendly and creative. It wasn't until recently that Jonathan had started hanging out with Steve, Nancy and I. I liked him, he was down to earth and kind, and it was good to get to know him a little more. See, now that is the one miracle of Hawkins. You may think you know everyone, but there is so much more than what is on the surface. Admittedly, I have a tendency of faltering to hypocrisy when it comes to this. I judge some who I suspect of wanting to use me because of my background. But, primarily, I judge through actions. So the cheerleaders, who I regard with ambivalence have proved through their active choices that they have unkind natures, may have the same background as I do. That doesn't change how they act towards me though nor others for that matter. They will still belittle the nerds who help them with homework and worship the jocks who make them uncomfortable.

My little brother, having finally decided the champion of Baby Ruth's vs Skor Candy Bars, picked up the winner and tossed it into the basket I was holding. We had accumulated over five items of junk food so far and Zack seriously had no limit on when to stop. He called it his 'special talent'.

"Do you think this will be enough for Will and Jonathan, Sierra?" Zack asked as he gazed down at his treasure.

I gave him the eyebrow flash, my personal signal that I was taken aback by something. In this case, I was silently communicating my astonishment that he was actually questioning this. I went on to recommend that we should probably stop unless we fancied puking our guts up later. By the miniature tremble at the very idea, I decided he was taking up my recommendation and swiftly moved onto the checkouts before he refuted my logic.

After paying we jumped into the car and it was straight to the Byer's house. There was something about the Byer's house that always used to soothe me. It was secluded from town, from the world I knew. Joyce was one of the nicest women I had the pleasure of knowing and would always have time for my brother and I. As it turned out, Joyce actually dated my father briefly when they were in high school together. Her, Jim Hopper and my father would sneak out to the back of the school and smoke joints together, as my mother once enviously recalled. Fortunately for Joyce, she didn't pursue anything further.

Coming up the drive, the sight of the Byers home soothed my soul. Externally, it had a weary and under-maintained appearance. But, to me, this was a haven, something real. Many times I would go onto the porch of a night, sit down in the wicker chair and light a cigarette just to find myself mesmerized by the smoke twirling out to the woods. Whilst smoking wasn't a habitual thing for me, I did crave the rush that came with it every now and then. Any other person would get the creeps sitting opposite the woods of a nighttime, exposed to the elements and whatever danger lurked out there. I had become rather guilty of indulging in true crime as of late, so I had started to wonder if I'd become desensitized to the threat of being murdered by a madman skulking out there or if I was just a plain psychopath.

As Zack and I got out of the house, I realized the door was already open. This was unusual, they always had it locked. Particularly when neither Joyce or Jonathan were home. Such a small thing, but it sent a chilling course of energy up my spine. Strange things had occurred since the events of 1983. It had stunned a quiet and tedious town and everyone was now on the edge of their seats. Perhaps I should have had more common sense than to sit out on the porch at night in front of what could be a hunting ground.

It was just a door. An open door.

But, it was odd. Like it shouldn't be there.

I told Zack to stay in the car whilst I could investigate the area. Maybe Will started his chores and hung the washing out? Warily approaching the house, I could see the silhouette of someone in the artificial lighting, just standing there in the middle of the door frame. The sun hadn't even begun its last journey of the day, so why were the lights on?

Was that Will?

"Will?" I spluttered out.

A crackle of electricity, the humming built to a crescendo.

I could feel my heart thumping against my skin, as if its mission was to break free from the confines of my body.

Lights out.

Darkness.

Breathe out, Sierra. Breathe. Out.

"Sierra?"

As if I had not done so for a thousand years, my whole body went limp as I pushed the air held hostage in my throat out of my mouth.

Will was okay.

"What the hell happened? Did we have a power cut?" I asked and stepped inside.

Dazed, Will turned to face me. His face was pallid, eyes sallow as if they had sunk into his skull. As I grew closer to him, I could hear how hard he was trying to contain his heavy breathing. His chest twitched, like he was purposefully trying to smother himself. What had happened?

"Hey," I said gently and dropped to my knees in front of him where I reeled him in for a hug "it's okay. You're okay"

Drawing him closer to me, his own heartbeat was frenzied, out of control. Like I did with Zack when he would wake up from a night terror and was in dire need of being calmed down, I ran my fingers through his hair and scratched gingerly.

Something had terrified him.

Joyce had warned me of things like this. Terrified that I would refuse any more nights at their house at the last hour, Joyce had invited me out for coffee one day and informed me that ever since the incident last year, Will had been struggling. As she poured over the many occasions that Will had been alienated since coming back to Hawkin's Middle School, I felt sadness begin to drown me from the inside. He had gone missing, no one knows where to. I don't think he even knows anymore, as if he was never there. Poor kid. He was so sweet and always made Zack and I feel welcome in his home. One time that I had looked after him after everything that happened, when it was all still raw, Will was only content if he was in his bedroom drawing. I would never pry to see what he was trying to create. However after a few hours, Will came out of his room and timidly passed me an envelope. Inside, it was a drawing of myself and Zack playing with the balloons. Will had missed Zack's birthday party that year, and this was his way of saying 'Happy birthday! Sorry it's late'. He had this hopeful glimmer in his eyes that I would like it and hovered around, waiting for my review. I was so overcome by emotion at this small gesture that I just wrapped my arms around him and gave him a big squeeze. I still have that drawing framed in my bedroom. Every time I feel down, all I need to do is look at that drawing and I remember that Will had overcome something I would never experience in my lifetime, and yet still have that innocent kindness. But trauma could invade even the nicest kid in town and leave them lost in an invisible mist.

"You okay?" I asked and tilted his chin to look at me.

With a silent nod, Will retreated into his bedroom. His safe place. A place invisible to the outside world where he could bury his thoughts in a drawing. I would check on him in 5 minutes. For now, he had made it apparent that he needed time to himself. That, and the light bulb needed a change.

I gestured to Zack that it was okay to come in now. As if nothing had happened, Zack bolted into the house and in his excited stupor was about to steam into Will's bedroom when I distracted him with getting the candy out of the car. With disbelief that he could forget something so important, Zack spun on his heel, nearly tripping over in the process, and raced back to the car. I took this opportunity to knock on Will's door, and ask if there was anything I could do to help.

A muffled 'no' told me everything minus what was actually wrong and I merely went back to the living room to throw the old light bulb away. Stretching to reach the bulb, I liberated an almighty yawn. The early interruption to my day had really done a number on me and there was nothing I yearned more than to sleep. However, the date with my bed would have to be patient. Two kids, one of whom was hyper enough without the presence of sugar in his system, to care for would take prominence above all other needs tonight. So with hopes that Will would join us at some point, I proceeded to get my book out and at least attempt to finish the page.

Something is wrong.

The sound of rumbling engines pulsated around the room. But, there is nothing to be seen anywhere. Just a void of darkness. Where am I? An overwhelming aroma of sewage penetrated my nostrils, the engines dying in the background. Desperately seeking somewhere to lock myself away from whatever danger lurked, I failed to find a refuge.

Stuck.

Twisting, contorting, there was nowhere to run.

Then, a speck of light from afar. The engines stop.

Silence.

Danger.

They have found me.

Gasping for air, the world became clear again. Eyes darting around the Byer's living room, I took in every object.

The TV with Gone With the Wind playing. Scarlett O'Hara's theatrical declaration that 'tomorrow is another day'.

Zack asleep on the floor, white and yellow checked blanket covering him.

Will Byer's door open.

Wait.

Blinking several times, I looked again.

Will Byer's door open.

Heart pounding, I darted up from my seated position. The room was empty. The alarm clock made it clear that I had been asleep for 30 minutes. 21:30pm.

No Will in sight.

Fuck.

How could I have fallen asleep?

Was he making a sandwich? No, I made us dinner two hours ago. A big one at that.

Using the toilet?

Door unlocked, my sweaty palms scrambled to open it.

Nothing. Nobody.

A bath full of water. No steam.

Where was Will?

Back door, open.

I raced outside. There he was. Just standing.

The wind was powerful tonight, a complete opposite to the calm breeze from less than an hour ago. Venturing into the gusts of winds that seemed intent on taking me down, I ran to Will. Whilst I was struggling, he stood still. It was like something was holding him up, an ally against the wind's vicious threats.

"Will!" I shouted. My voice was no use from here. He couldn't hear me. "Will, come on, let's go back inside!"

Finally making it over, I tenderly touched his shoulder.

Then, it was as if it was over. Whoever was on Will's side holding him upright won as the wind settled to that typical, fall breeze. A tickle in comparison to its brutality only mere moments earlier.

"Will?" I whispered with a tremble in my voice. This was the furthest thing from normal. "Are you okay?"

Quiet. One would have taken this sudden stillness as a sign of calm. But inside, I was screaming.

"We're not in Hawkins" Will muttered. As I looked down, I could see his fists were clenched, shuddering.

"Come on, let's get you inside" I said.

Before I could move, I followed his eyes to beyond the garden. The woods. Everything I felt about them had changed, like the common sense I should have had sitting out on the porch had finally emerged. I felt the back of my neck prickle into goosebumps, an instinct that something was about to pounce.

"Will, let's go in" I commanded, my voice contrasting that gentle tone from before.

Then, it was as if nothing had happened. Will sharply inhaled and turned around, running back in. As I stood facing the woods, I heard his bedroom door slam. What was once peaceful to me distorted into a menacing promise. A promise that I would never look at it the same way again. The trees swayed gently, dancing with the light air. It was as if they were ridiculing me. We had you there for a moment. I backed away and jogged into the house, locking the door behind me. Walking at a slow pace, trying to internalize what just happened, I automatically wrapped my arms around myself, pressing against the bruises. A small pain to remind me that I was alive.

The bathroom door was still open. Going to close it, I took a look at the bath and went over to kneel next to it. Dipping my fingers in, an icy sensation penetrated my nerves. It was freezing. How long had this been here? I had been awake half an hour prior to this episode, and there was no bath running then.

What the hell was going on?

The dream I had was right about one thing.

Something was terribly wrong.

And it wasn't going away.