She hated him. He hated her. And that was alright in their world until one night. Everything changed then, conversations exchanged between drags of a shared cigarette having developed a mutual respect between enemies.
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Slowburn enemies to frie...
Not a day will go by when I don't think of you. Your infectious joy sticks around long after your passing. You brightened the world. I see you in everything that is lovely: the flowers in my mother's garden, the leather spines on classic novels, the pinkish-red blaze of the sky at sunrise and sunset. We knew each other for very little time, but I'm thankful I got to meet you. I wish our time together could be longer. I can't help but wonder how great of friends we could have become. No matter, though; I'll carry your memory in the books on my shelf and the joy you left in my heart. Thanks to you, I see the world a little differently; more positive and welcoming.
Nancy misses you, obviously. She and I promise to tell your parents the truth about what happened in time. These things take time. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. If I had gone with you that night, things would be different. But we can't change the past; we learn to live with it. An old friend of mine once taught me an old proverb: "let go or be dragged." I never understood until now. For my sake, I have to relieve my guilt over your death. I need to let you go. But I won't forget about you, Barbara. How could anyone? This isn't a goodbye, but rather a see you later.
Your friend, Y/N.
I sign the endsheet of the book, wiping my tears as I close it. I run my fingers over the front cover. Jane Eyre. I got a copy of it to write my letter in and leave at Barb's grave.
I stare down at the book for a minute, then burst into tears. The weight of Barb's death has been heavy on me lately. I feel personally responsible for her untimely death, but I know I need to let it go. That is easier said than done.
I bury my eyes into my sweater sleeves, drenching the cloth in tears and watery mascara. I sniffle and wipe my eyes. I breathe as much air as my lungs can hold and slowly exhale. I stand from my vanity, taking the book with me. I throw on a jacket and leave the house quietly. Dustin is getting ready for a Christmas celebration at the Wheelers. I don't want him, Nancy, or Steve insisting on going with me, so I leave before they get here to pick him up. I want to do this alone.
I tuck the book into my jacket and hug the fabric tightly to my torso. I walk down the street, my boots crunching in the snow. The sun is just beginning to rise, illuminating everything in a magenta glow.
I grow sadder when I think of Eleven. After the night we rescued Will, she and the boys came face to face with the monster that has since been dubbed the Demogorgon. Eleven sacrificed herself to save the boys. The girl was here for a short time but made a long-lasting impact on all of us. Two wonderful young women lost their lives to the Demogorgon. Their sacrifice saved the entire town.
