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CHAPTER TWELVE'IT'S GONNA BE A LONG, COLD WINTER'

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CHAPTER TWELVE
'IT'S GONNA BE A LONG, COLD WINTER'

( episode 9: the gate cont. )


ONE MONTH LATER
DECEMBER 15TH, 1984


The beat up Honda bubbles into the entrance to the Hawkins Middle School carpark.

Violet stops for the kids passing through her headlights at the pedestrian crossing; dolled up in frocks of blue and purple, ballet flats thundering over concrete. Three girls step in time across the paint, giggling into their hands as they excitedly hurry over the road. She can't help but feel a small smile of admiration grace her face to watch them.

They were the best nights of your life when you were a kid. Middle school dances. Violet had always wished she'd enjoyed hers back in Florida. If "beachside bonfire bash's" could really ever be considered as middle school dances to begin with.

She finds a quiet park in the middle of the lot, away from those parked right against the gymnasium. She still didn't know the general public of Hawkins all that well, and for her and her Mother's sake, she wanted to keep it that way for as long as she could. She plucks the metallic bag from the passenger side, climbing out into the cold air.

It was a surprise, hearing the wall phone shrill through the tranquility of early Saturday evening. Violet curled up in her room with a tatty book, giving her Mother residency in the living room. Even more of a surprise to hear Nancy Wheeler's voice on the other line, fighting to be heard from the music and excitable commotion taking place somewhere closely.

Violet strides up towards the doors of the gymnasium, passing a Mother straightening up her son's tie for a photograph. A periwinkle silk banner graces the entrance; cotton balls and glitter glued in-between text that read Hawkins Middle Snow Ball: '84.

She pushes open the glass doors, making way for a group of kids ducking past her. Violet doesn't have to scan the room long before her eyes settle on the unmissable presence of the sophomore behind a trestle table, hanging a blue ticket over to somebody with a smile. Violet raises a hand awkwardly, hoping Nancy would find her amongst the crowd. A few moments later, her eyes beam with delight.

𝙐𝙇𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙑𝙄𝙊𝙇𝙀𝙏  - 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣Where stories live. Discover now