Trapped in the Upside Down - A Chrissy and Eddie story

A Message to Dustin

"Are you sure it's safe to go inside?" I ask as Eddie pushes the door open.

"You're welcome to stay out here if you want, but I wouldn't if I were you," he smirks and gestures with his hand, allowing me to enter first. 

"I think I'll stick with you." I take a few hesitant steps inside. 

"This is Dustin's house. Chances are that if we can wait here until he's home at the same time, we can get a message through to him," he says closing the door behind us. 

"How does that work exactly?" I ask, looking around the dark room. 

"Well," he begins to explain as he rummages through kitchen drawers, "we can use electricity to send signals. When you touch something here, like a lamp or light bulb, it lights up back home. We can use Morse code or something to spell out words." 

"You know Morse code?" I ask. 

"A little. I know S.O.S," he laughs.

I walk over to a lamp sitting on a table next to the couch as he continues rummaging through kitchen cabinets and drawers. I test his theory by reaching my hand behind the lamp shade for the lightbulb. Tiny sparkles light up around my fingers and I jerk my hand back as the air around it begins to tingle like static. 

"Pretty crazy, right?" he laughs. 

My heart races with adrenaline. I slowly reach back toward the lightbulb, once more. My hand begins to tingle like static again and tiny sparkles form around my touch. It's such a strange feeling. It's beautiful too. 

"Damnit," he curses.

"What's wrong?" I pull my hand back. 

"The flashlight doesn't work," he says returning a very corroded looking flashlight to a drawer. 

"There's a candle in a jar over here. Maybe we can find some matches," I suggest. 

Moments later, Eddie joins me in the living room with a box of matches. He strikes one and lights the small candle. It gives just enough light for me to see the warmth in his skin. He smiles and I realize that I'm staring again. I look away before I start blushing. I think I'm too late.

"Follow me," he smiles with the candle in hand. 

He leads the way down a hall. The candlelight flickers against the walls revealing rows of dust and cobweb covered pictures of cats and Dustin as a young child. We enter a room to our right. Dark red curtains hang raggedly over a window just above an unmade bed. A torn poster hangs next to a couple of crayon drawings taped to the wallpaper. It would be adorable if it wasn't so dark and gloomy here. Eddie places the candle on the side table next to the bed and sits down. I sit next to him a few inches away. Close enough, but not too close that it becomes so obvious that I want to be near him. 

"How do we know when he's here too?" I ask. 

"Last time, we could hear him. He's hard to miss," he laughs.

Eddie begins removing the shade to a lamp sitting on the table next to our candle. He reaches for the bulb and tiny sparkles form around his hand. That's a sight that I don't think I could ever get used to. We sit in silence for a few minutes listening intently, hoping to hear anything out of the ordinary letting us know that his friend is here. Several minutes pass. The silence is awkward. I gently tug at the bottom of my skirt trying to cover a bit more of my knee, but it doesn't give much. The flame on the candle flickers setting somewhat of a romantic ambience enhancing the awkwardness. 

"You know, I didn't say this before, but I'm really sorry for what happened to you," he says,  breaking the silence. I feel so relieved because I couldn't think of anything to say and the minutes were dragging out.