Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ- Bᴀʀʙᴀʀᴀ Hᴏʟʟᴀɴᴅ

ᑭᗩᖇT Oᑎᗴ

The room was dark, almost ghostly. It wasn't uncommon for the girl to be up at unthinkable hours, pondering nothing but the truth, and wondering whether the truth was actually... true.

A child at the age of fifteen shouldn't be worrying herself over such things, knowing that they could do no harm, but Barbara Holland enjoyed it. She loved the unknown, just as much as she feared it, and it was almost routine at this point in her life to stare out of the window late at night, attempting to wrap her brain around things that were truly unfathomable.
An endless loop that she couldn't get herself out of.

The clock struck, aiming its hands at twelve and two- 2 am.
She removed her glasses, rubbing the eyes which stung underneath the lenses. Moonlight flashed through the gap in the curtains, reminding Barbara that it was only a few hours until daybreak. Perhaps she would go to bed. Perhaps not.

The neon red of the other clock in the room morphed into 2:01, and she stared at it contently. Pondering the time was also common for the girl. The mystery that time could go as fast or as slow as you wanted it to, depending on something as simple as your mood. It was like a punishment really, the universe taking advantage. Having fun? Time goes faster than a bullet. Bored? Minutes feel like hours.

Six hours until another day at Hawkins High roared into action, and the young Holland assumed that four hours of sleep would be completely obscene to run a full day on, but stayed awake either way. Like I said, it was routine at this point.

Barbara rose from the furniture, slipping her feet into some slippers which were perfectly positioned at the foot of the bed. They were warm, a lot warmer than she had felt the whole night. Despite the chilly bite in the air, Holland opened the window, letting a cold frost blow in, stinging her face and trailing goosebumps on her bare arms.
A slight tinge of chemical drafted through the air, barely unnoticeable unless it had been pointed out beforehand. Barbara didn't need it to be pointed out, as she could tell it was there. A smell in the background that just wouldn't go away, no matter how hard she willed it too. The air used to be purer there, until a few weeks, maybe months, ago. Something changed in the atmosphere, and from her numerous science and chemistry lessons, could tell it wasn't just from some bazar chemical leak, covered up by the lab. No, it was something more, something sinister- and she was onto them.

It wasn't at all her business, but with hours to spare each night with nothing to entertain her except herself and the same four walls, Barbara started investigating. Various newspapers scattered the room, littering her desk and stacking high near her closet. The search for any information spiked her interest, as what was going on was too noticeable not to be ignored, but not quite enough to be noticed at all by the regular citizens.
Paper held information like she'd never known before- government cover-ups, experiments, dodgy deals, all there in black and white. It was incredibly interesting if you looked in-between the lines, but it was tragically easy to skim over them like any old sentence.

A creak on the landing floor signified company, and Barbara rushed for the comfort of her duvet, ready to pretend to be asleep. At this point, she was able to mimic the breathing pattern of an unconscious person, to make the whole ordeal as realistic as possible. Even though she wouldn't be punished for not being able to sleep, she didn't want her parents finding out either way. Worry leads to questions, and questions lead to answers which she didn't want to give. It was a vicious cycle.

A few minutes later, after the 'asleep' girl had perfected her breathing, a toilet was flushed from down the hall. Deep thuds of footsteps travelled along the carpet and back into the far bedroom, and the coast was clear.
Instead of leaning up once again and staring into the abyss for a few more hours, Barbara found herself quite comfortable, so decided to stay there for the night. School was going to be dreadful in the morning whether she slept or not, so she might as well try.