Ahoy? | Steve Harrington

pre-season 4 chapter

everything talked about in this chapter happens over a span of the week after the mall incident to where season 4 starts. each paragraph is supposed to be as time moves on, so the first two paragraphs are right after the mall stuff and so on is a week or so time difference (unless stated otherwise)

Y/n's POV:

I huffed as I placed my last box in the trunk of Susan's car. After everything that happened with Billy at the mall and my own issues, Neil decided to 'kick' Susan, Max, and I out. After Neil told Max and Susan he wanted them out, he told me I needed to find my own place since I was 19 and graduated from high school. Susan decided to let me move in with her and Max at the trailer park, she felt bad leaving me on my own with no help and didn't want to separate Max and I after we had built such a good bond. He did give us some time to find a place to live, and by 'some time,' I mean a week. It wasn't so bad, to be completely honest.

It was admittedly cramped, it only being two bedrooms with Max and I sharing a room, but it could have been worse. I could have been homeless or dead. I was grateful that somebody cared enough to help me out. Susan also wasn't a bad guardian, she did try her hardest after the divorce to get a decent job and a place to live, which is more than Neil would have ever done for Billy and I if he hadn't married Susan right after his divorce with our mother.

I was in denial for a while. Maybe about two weeks from his death. It wasn't that bad, honestly. I found myself walking back to our old house on Cherry Lane to see what he was doing, and then remembered. I would wake up and make breakfast for four, then remember. I tried to pretend like it was all a bad dream and I would wake up, but then I remembered. And then, I got angry.

Anger. Fury. Rage. All words to describe how I felt for a few days. This stage passed by fairly quickly. I was angry at everything. I was angry at everyone. I was angry at myself. I was angry that I couldn't see my brother. I was angry that this was my life. I took the anger out on random objects, I threw random pots, I ripped up paper, I yelled at the top of my lungs every so often. I eventually had to take up a mini boxing class (went to class twice and never went again) so I would stop ruining our pots and pans. Then the 'what ifs,' came about.

Bargaining. This one only lasted a week, give or take.  Sometimes I wondered if it had been better if I died. I resented myself because I couldn't have done anything to change the outcome and I couldn't control the ending. I wondered that if maybe I would have taken time to talk to Billy or take a day off of work to check up on him that it would have changed the outcome of the situation and he wouldn't have been flayed. Then maybe he wouldn't have died. And I wouldn't have become such a depressed loser who moped all day every day.

I oftentimes found myself in a depressive state. This one lasting the longest. 2 months. I was stuck in the fourth stage of grief, and couldn't move onto acceptance. I couldn't accept that my brother was dead. I couldn't accept that the only thing I had left of him was the ring Max gave me, everything else was thrown away by Neil. I couldn't accept that I had to keep it bottled in me and I couldn't talk to a professional about what happened. I couldn't get therapy because it was looked down upon and I wouldn't even be getting the correct treatment due to having to lie about his cause of death. I only had Max to talk to, but we were both grieving and depressed, we couldn't help ourselves let alone each other. The fourth stage sucked ass.

.

It was an oddly warm October day and I had walked into The Wall for my shift. I was working registers that day, and Eddie was stocking shelves like usual. I greeted him with a smile and a wave, to which he returned, and I gave a 'hello' to our manager, Mr. Roberts. Thriller was playing on the radio and I hummed along to the song as I pinned my name tag onto my shirt.