I had managed to convince my mom to allow me to paint over the teddy bear wallpaper from my infancy as soon as I hit high school. It was an attempt to reinvent myself, as you expect to evolve when you feel to be on the precipice of adulthood, but things didn't go exactly how I planned, and I think my room sadly reflects that.

The carefully chosen baby pink paint, the floral metal gold bedframe with a cream canopy tied off with ribbon, that matched the bedspread and the skirting of my vanity… its pristine condition was something I had prided myself in and everything had its place, without unnecessary clutter. I envisioned a woman of order and popularity, the kind of girl who had sleepovers and whose friends were in awe of, secretly taking inspiration from it to beg their mothers to help them duplicate later on. For a while I maintained that persona, until I realised just how hard I had to work at it. I remember that summer the end of my freshmen year, I went to dance camp. The idea was that it would prepare me for cheerleader try-outs. My mom drove me there and when it came to our goodbye's, she raised the window again after her kiss left a red stain on my lips, and then I realised I was becoming her carbon copy.

that fake, maddening, pretend to be happy person, that smiles while inside they were screaming... it was her exact same expression on my face.

I was becoming my mother and I could not have been more afraid. Needless to say, when I returned, she had a complaint list as long as her arm about my attitude, my 'friends' had become my enemies and that strict order I had over my life, unravelled. The only positive I had from that time, was my dancing which was described as overly passionate and aggressive, until I controlled my anger better.

Now, the walls were barely seen between the posters. Sunlight was not a thing with my curtains kept firmly shut, which meant my lamp I dulled with a red scarf was constantly battling to keep my room illuminated, to stop me from falling over all the clothes/shoes I had scattered everywhere…

Dustin was too grossed out to enter, asking when lingerie became a staple décor item, while mom turned tail and ran once she glimpsed an array of childhood teddy bears cradling beer bottles on my shelf. I had to say, it did get old jumping between vacant spots on the floor and working out how to put make-up on, when the mirror was accursed with sticky hairspray splatters, I just could not get the energy to clean it up once I had thrown myself on the mattress. The chaos oddly soothed me.

I figured I still had a few hours before the party tonight. I didn't know for sure if Johnathan would come, but I didn't dwell on it. I would hate someone to force me to do something out my comfort zone, I just felt he had this potential to be something great during his final years at high school and people would realise what they missed out on, which was a good friend.

I sighed, hearing the sudden slam of the front door. it wasn't his usual burst of busy energy slam; it was an annoyed one.

My brow quirked, shouting "hey, Dustin that you!"

Why I bothered to ask when I knew already beat me. I guess it was to hear his tone to confirm that something was off. His silence was worse, and I darted off the bed to find him across the way from me in his own room. The door was wide open and he was turned in an odd angle, looking at the mirror.

Tipping up onto my toes to see what he was looking at, he sadly turned around to show me. still in his ghostbusters costume, the entire left side and part of his back was smeared in dirt. His hard work spoiled when he had been so proud of it this morning, posing in front of the camera for mom.

Considering his history, my spine locked, as did my fists, asking through gritted teeth, "did you fall off your bike?"

His gaze went to his shoes, a tell-tale sign he was either going to lie, or didn't want to admit to something, "kinda"

"ok," I grabbed his arm and led him to the kitchen, taking a spare cloth to soak under the running water, I nearly broke the tap with the force I used to turn it on, "I want names, so I know whose ass I have to kick."

I tried to remember the usual suspects, their phone numbers and houses flashing before me. I hated there were so many, that Dustin had to endure people being mean to him purely because they wanted to go out of their way to make him a big joke for their own gain. Personally, I did not admire someone who belittled another. Never got why someone would laugh at another's expense. Even if they did feel crappy about their own miserable lives, it didn't give them just cause to make someone else feel worse. Go see a shrink if that's your problem.

ringing out the cloth, I began rubbing the mud off to try and clean my brother up before he wanted to go off trick or treating. One of his favourite night's of the year, so there was no way in hell I was going to let someone ruin it for him.

Dustin just took it in his stride, used to me fretting over him with just a few curse words over getting wet, which I soon put to an end when I threatened to spank him, reminding Dustin that I was still waiting for names.

"it doesn't matter!" he eventually groaned, "you wouldn't find them any way... You know mom's not going to be happy with you, using her good dishcloth."

He tried to change the subject as I rushed back to the sink to rinse and repeat the process, eyeing where I had cleaned and what I had left to do. It was hard now that the material was darkening from the water, but I still had a lot on the upper portion of his body to do. He must have scraped along the ground pretty far. Fortunately, there were no holes or for that matter, any active bleeding on his person.

If I had seen any real harm, then god help the culprit, who was still in a heap of shit in any case. "You wanna bet I won't charge into that school and line those little fuckers up for interrogation."

"Uhh, unless you want to go to prison, no," My rubbing got a bit forceful as Dustin yelled out and begged that I leave him alone, I refused of course, off for another rinse and repeat, only this time warning him with one finger, to not runaway. I could sense his desperation and he knew better than to.

"we're in Hawkins, prison bars are all around us little bro," I whispered.

I glimpsed out the window, but there wasn't much of a view of our street anyway, since our light up Halloween decorations were reflecting off the glass. Nevertheless, Hawkins was a town scattered among the trees, you couldn't see much of a horizon anywhere to let you know there was a world beyond its borders.

"wow you have such an optimistic outlook on life." Dustin didn't really dwell on the dark and depressive. Never let his spirits get dampened. He was always smiling, cracking jokes or being sarcastic. Things brushed off his shoulders, because once they've happened it didn't matter to him anymore and he kept moving forward. It was a skill for someone so young.

I winked at him playfully though and drew up my hands like claws, which earning a laugh, as i joked, "Mwahahaha!"

now that I wasn't pressing him and broke the tension, Dustin relaxed from my overwhelming demands and opened up, "…it was just some jerk, driving like a maniac. we were on our bikes and-"

I didn't expect to have to deal with a grown adult, someone who ought to have two brain cells to be responsible to drive behind the wheel and cut my brother off, "-he didn't slow down seeing kids on the road?!"

His eyes widened accusingly at me, sharing a message that if I kept shouting, he wasn't going to talk. I reluctantly obeyed and tried my best to calm down, asking "what car was it?"

Again, he was a smart kid, smarter than most his age so I knew it wouldn't be a stretch for him to know the exact vehicle. He paused a moment while I finished off with the last of the marks, warning him I would need to dry it off with my hairdryer.

After standing so long, he slumped into the chair and shrugged, "it was just some Halloween tomfoolery."

"tomfoolery?" I repeated, as his curls fell into his face.

"yeP," his P was ended with a pop for flare and I rolled my eyes, while deciding to throw the dishcloth in the bin, since it was ruined now any way, but before I turned off the water, I filled a glass and took a deliberate slurp.

His wonder over what I was doing lifted Dustin's gaze back off his shoes again, as he watched my cheeks engorge. Then puckering my lips, I squirted the water like one of mom's garden gnomes out in the back yard near the pond, targeting him since he was already wet.

Dustin's face dropped, completely unimpressed as I explained, "now that's tomfoolery. What they did was dangerous."

"…are you done?"

I quirked my eyebrows in challenge if he dare not reveal the information I wanted and finally got results in that way older siblings could by means of action, border lining on blackmail/emotional torment.

The glass came for a second slurp, but before I could do anything more, Dustin broke, "it was a Chevy Camaro. A blue Chevy Camaro!"

That wasn't part of the suburban dad/mom starter pack, so I was looking at the younger generation and with only one high school, that vehicle would be sitting nicely in Hawkins high parking lot. I missed the usual business purposefully, both before and after school, so I wasn't attuned to who drove what, but that was going to change…

I had to drop the issue with him at some point and motioned for Dustin to join me, "come on let's dry you off, I gotta get ready for my party tonight. You want a ride to mike's?"

With my hands on his shoulders, I squeezed them affectionately having been warned years ago that he was too old for hugs, "just around the block? Nah I think I can manage the distance."

"ok smarty pants. just be home by ten. I'll be calling the house to check."