Alicia came from the uneventful town of Hawkins, where nothing extraordinary ever occurred. However, within the confines of Hawkins' laboratory, a different tale unfolded. Alicia's mother, subjected to mysterious substances during pregnancy, underwe...
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*November 6th - 1983*
Six years had passed since my escape from Hawkins, abandoning the wretched place that was once my home. Amidst the constant barrage of lies, they fed me, claiming I was chosen for a greater purpose and that my country would be proud, I realized I was nothing more than a lab rat—free in body, yet never truly liberated. Life progressed, and I managed to carve out a place to call home. Gifted with the ability to swiftly acquire skills and a knack for fast learning, I steered clear of trouble and evaded law enforcement, always haunted by the thought that they might find me one day. This constant fear kept me on edge but also served as a reminder of my survival.
Over the years, I maintained my presence in school, working hard and avoiding unnecessary entanglements. I discovered a family that embraced me—an elderly couple who had always yearned to care for a child. The six years with them were wonderful, and my high school days were marked by contentment. Unlike the typical teenage girl, I didn't frequent malls. Instead, I spent my summers working, saving money with the aspiration of one day owning my own place. While I cherished my time with my adoptive family, the desire to live independently drove me forward.
During my time in Hawkins, between the tests and cruel torment, I found solace in drawing. Initially, it was rudimentary—basic shapes and stick figures. Yet, as I grew, my drawings evolved into intricate shapes, figures, and faces. It provided a brief escape, allowing me to feel like a normal child, and this artistic outlet lingered with me into my teens. Writing, too, became a passion, with my stories serving as a means of escape from that place. Despite these creative pursuits, I kept my abilities hidden from Ed and Isabella, unwilling to reveal or demonstrate them. I discreetly employed these powers for odd tasks around the house, avoiding public use to prevent being labelled as a freak.
Just six days after turning seventeen, I still resided in my parents' house. Night fell upon me as I drifted into sleep, the distant sounds of passing cars briefly filling my ears before being drowned out. Sometimes, my dreams were so vivid that they felt like reality.
In one such dream, my focus shifted to my childhood in the Hawkins lab—constant surveillance, and ruthless experiments. Just when I thought it was over, more horrors unfolded. Although I had experienced similar dreams before, I avoided confronting them. The dream transitioned from the lab room to an isolated house, with my attention drawn to a shed at the back. Inside, a small boy with a familiar bowl cut held a shaky grip on a shotgun, fear etched across his face. A deep growl emerged behind him, freezing him in place. Slowly turning, he faced a dark presence in the shed's corner. A screeching sound intensified as the light grew brighter. The dream shifted rapidly, like a blur, and settled on a familiar sign—Hawkins.
I sprang upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat, as the moonlight spilled into my room. The memories of my time at the Hawkins lab, the day of my escape, flooded back with a force that couldn't be ignored. Although I could dismiss it as just a dream, I've always had visions of the future or glimpses of the past due to my abilities. Returning to Hawkins had left me unsettled, but I was adamant about not revisiting that dreadful place. Inaction weighed heavily on me, especially when the well-being of a child was at stake, and if I were fortunate, I might be able to save him.
