Her Mixtape (Extended Version), Stranger Things

𝖝𝖛𝖎𝖎. November 2nd

Rue's clock ticked, probably minutes away from buzzing in alarm, but she could not be bothered to check the time. Instead, she shivered at the breeze blowing into her bedroom and pulled the covers up to her face. She finally had enough of the sun and turned to face the other way. The sun continued to mock her, and the birds in the tree by her window began to chirp loudly. Rue didn't want to move. She wanted to bury herself within her covers and maybe cry.

It was November 2nd, and Rue Newby felt like she was drowning. Self-pity, maybe. Grief, too. You see, to anyone else, November 2nd was just another day. But for kids like Rue, it was so much more than that. November 2nd was what would have been Emilia Davis' 39th birthday. Now it was just another day because her mom wouldn't turn 39. Unless it still counts when she's six feet underground in a wooden casket.

Rue traced the wrinkles in her bedsheets and sighed. The bitter memory of Will Byers running into Hawkins High School's football field and freezing up completely still freaked her out. It didn't help that Joyce had kicked Rue and Bob out of the house soon after.

She reached under her pillow and pulled out that stupid book Evangeline had gifted her the day of the funeral. Rue knew Evangeline wasn't an emotional person, so she didn't hold a grudge after she unwrapped the gift and found a heavy book called The Five Stages Of Grief.

Rue read the book, she probably read it twice in the summer, and now she felt like an expert with loss. But there was nothing written in those blood and tear-stained pages about when the drowning feeling would end. When would the pain end? When. When? When will it end?

She sighed once more before pushing the book off her bed. It landed on her carpeted floor with a soft thud, and Rue spun to face the other side again.

She thought about Evangeline and wondered how she was doing in Seattle. Rue recalled the nights they'd spend in her fire escape, hiding from Evangeline's father whenever he was in a mood and drank too many beers. The girl would go on and on about how she wishes her mother would grow a pair of fucking balls and finally leave the violent man and strand her punk ass brother Liam with him.

Fuck Mr. Fleur for having driven Evangeline so far away. And fuck Liam, too.

The loud shrill of the phone ringing had caused Rue to flinch. The remaining thoughts of her life back in Chicago vanished as the phone kept ringing and ringing until it finally stopped.

Rue shoved her face into her pillow, hoping to fall back asleep and miss her alarm for school. She could hear her father's footsteps wandering around the halls outside her bedroom as he got ready for work. A part of her felt bad for not having made him breakfast and lunch like she usually does, but she couldn't even get up from her bed without wanting to sink to the floor.

The phone rang again, and Rue dug her face further into her pillows while groaning.

"Rue, can you get that?" She heard Bob say through the door before the fast patter of his feet down the stairs. "Please!"

Rue fought the urge to let out a curse. She briefly wondered if Bob had forgotten what today was as she shoved the covers off her body, standing to her feet. Rue shivered again, feeling hollow and empty and cold as she slowly made her way to the phone on the wall in the hallway. Rue leaned on the wall tiredly before putting the phone to her ear, "Hello?"

"Oh," a voice choked out from the outside, and it hesitated before asking, "Is this the Newby's?"

"Yes," Rue said dryly. "Who is this?"

"Rue?" The voice suddenly gasped, "Junior, is that you?"

Rue had been called Junior by only one person. "Dani?"