Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ- Bᴀʀʙᴀʀᴀ Hᴏʟʟᴀɴᴅ

ᑭᗩᖇT ᔕI᙭Tᗴᗴᑎ

Fabric stuck to her skin as Barbara rushed home, breathing heavy and panting loud. Sun was not apparent in Hawkins that day, but the pure heat radiating from the girl was enough for her to make a sweat. She wondered if she was hallucinating, as Sydney was nowhere near as clear or as realistic as before- most likely being a figment of imagination. Perhaps they had never even met, perhaps Barb's mind had tricked her into thinking that way, bored of the excruciating amount of research it was processing daily, all in attempt of release.

The Holland household was set only a few blocks away, and at the speed the youngest was going, wasn't too badly reached.

Mr and Mrs Holland stood shocked in the kitchen as their daughter barged through the doorway, doubling over from lack of oxygen. She'd been doing that more recently, they'd noticed; breathing louder than normal, taking sharp breaths, small gasps.
Panic was spreading throughout her core, and before the clock could take another strike, Barbara was rushing through the house and emptying her stomach into the toilet at the end of the hall. She didn't understand why Sydney scared her so much, made her feel so unsettled, but for unknown reasons, she did. Obviously Barb wasn't actually scared of the girl, although she was quite strange, but more scared of the mystery of it, the past...the truth.

As she slumped down weakly against the bath beside the toilet, Barbara's mind wandered back to her nightmare- more specifically, the drawing. Although it was scribbled messily with crayons and coloured wax, the point of the picture was clear enough; Barbara, men, vans, guns.
Guns.
Guns...

Dropping her head to her knees, fingers became intertwined between locks of bright ember hair. The girl in the picture couldn't of been anyone else, and Barbara was aware of the fact. It was undebatable.
A worn pink bath mat lay crumpled underneath her, tassels discoloured and old. Dishevelled was the word to describe it; her and the mat.
Over time, Barbara had grown more untidy, not having the energy to keep everything in line anymore. Her room was a mess, her hair was a mess, she was a mess, and everything else was crumbling around her along with it.

-

Barbara laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling while wondering what Nancy was doing. She was at a party, she knew that much, but knew nothing more. Oh how she longed that she could've gone. Not to party, or to drink, but to just spend some time with her friend- that's if she wasn't assumed to be up in Steve's room all night. Barb knew that she would be.

It was better for Holland to have a quiet night in, and as much as she hated to admit it, wished that it wasn't. Barbara wanted to be out, wanted to be able to get wasted without a care in the world, wanted to drop all responsibilities for a night or two. Sadly, that wasn't possible.
Before long, the clock struck twelve and Barbara closed her eyes, thinking of the day to come. It was a Friday the next day, which was good, but yet again, she kind of wished to skip the following weekend, continue to go to school and keep herself busy.

Mind wanders when it's bored, and in that moment, bored was the furthest thing from good.

The plan was to get through school, get through the day, get through the weekend. The rest would follow.
It was her birthday in a weeks time, so that was something to try and look forward to as well.