𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 彡 [e. munson] [✔]

─ 𝐳𝐞𝐫𝐨.

Every muscle within her body froze when her brain finally contextualized that she was indeed pulled into a tight embrace by her loving dad. She'd never been that much of a touchy, lovey-dovey person. But people got her personality wrong all the time. Just because physical contact wasn't her go-to way of showing affection, that didn't mean she despised everyone around her. When her nostrils came in contact with the same fuzzy sweater her dad treasured and wore almost daily, Magdalena felt her heart palpitate due to the scent of his body wash.

The smell resembled someone who she'd been previously attached to. It was oh-so bittersweet. But before she knew it, her dad let go of her figure and just stared affectionately down at Magdalena—his only child. His pride and joy. The prettiest girl in the universe in his opinion. She looked so much like his ex-wife, but their personalities were nothing alike. Magdalena took after her cynical grandmother personality-wise and the girl adored the old woman endlessly. Through her semi-parted lips, an almost inaudible sigh of discontent escaped as she patiently waited for her dad to finally say something—finally, express anything and everything that was on his mind regarding her arrival and permanent stay until graduation.

After that, she wanted to get out of Indiana. Scratch that, Magdalena May fucking needed to leave her godforsaken roots behind because if she didn't, she'd go stir-crazy. The town never had anything to offer her and especially not now. Not after...that terrible, terrible summer which left her feeling even emptier inside than ever before. Her uncle's residency in New Orleans offered her something to look forward to. Her strange, "witchy" hobby was supported down there and highly encouraged by Frank's overly enthusiastic girlfriend, Shari—a peppy platinum blonde who, frankly, managed to somehow always dress like a groupie.

Magdalena liked that though.

All that leather and hairspray made Shari look gorgeous. And the best part, the platinum blonde was in tune with her spiritual side just as much as Magdalena was. The brunette wished to rewind time and experience Louisiana all over again. But that was silly and unrealistic. Instead, the monotone girl mentally wished for her last year of school to pass by without a trace.

Fuck Hawkins, Magdalena declared within her head, This place can suck my dick.

"I got a homecoming present for you, darling girl. Worked on it for two weeks straight. Sleepless nights, didn't eat, y'know, all that jazz. But I needed to finish it. It's in your room. Go on in. Me and Frank are gonna have that long-awaited chat. Ain't that right, Frankie boy?"

Marion May's affectionate words directed towards Magdalena didn't even register in her conscience until they were over and her dad went on to address his brother with his ever-present charming demeanor. They might as well have been twins considering their similarities. One was a starving artist, eager to share his visually pleasing portraits with people around the world and have his works in the Louvre at one point while the other was a struggling musician, desperately trying to get signed by a record label and become the next big star in a long line of other stars. Then there were their smiles. The type of smile that would be enough to make a woman's heart palpitate. It ran in the family, that smile. Magdalena hadn't inherited it though. However, she wouldn't know. Smiling was a rare endeavor, only reserved for people deserving of it. Like her best friend, Luci "Lulu" Hayashi, her eccentric father, her irrational uncle, and her—

"Fuck yeah we are. Been a long time since I've seen my only brother. But now I'm wishing I hadn't. Have you seen yourself, man? You are seriously one ugly motherfucker up close."

Frank shot back with a stray wink directed right at Magdalena which surprisingly forced a smidge of a smirk on her glowing visage. Tough love. It ran in her family, and boy did she fucking adore it. No sappy bullshit. Only comments that would send one's ego tumbling down into a dark abyss if they weren't emotionally sturdy enough.

"I feel the love."

Magdalena sarcastically muttered to herself as she told her feet to start moving towards the wide-open front door, leaving her dad and uncle to playfully wrestle in the front yard. Not even exchanging another glance with them, the witchy brunette began approaching the door to all her long-forgotten memories. For two months she hadn't been here.

Two months left her brain a reorganized mess in which she simply couldn't recall anything good that happened in the house. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. The same sequence over and over again as she went straight down the hall and turned left only to be faced with a closed door with a spray-painted piece of cardboard stuck onto the old wood. The makeshift sign harshly stated "Keep out or your soul is mine" with a lopsided heart directly next to the threatening words.

Magdalena's green-ish orbs completed a whole three hundred and sixty degrees mashed with irritation. Her hand reached out and snatched the immature sign off her door. Those words painted across the cardboard were no longer harmless in nature. They were stupid. She was stupid. So fucking dumb. Magdalena practically kicked her door in with her sandal-clad foot. The girl's heart beat rapidly with adrenaline prompted by her sudden fit of rage. Her sharp nails which were clearly painted onyx damn near pierced through the cardboard chunk in her grasp when she saw the painting laid across her neatly made bed. The May girl's nostrils flared while her jaw clenched together so violently that she felt her teeth ache. Though the pain didn't stop her. Not when a portrait of her wearing her most treasured dress took up most of the space on her mattress. As if she'd been zapped by high volts of electricity, bitter memories coursed through her brain.

That dress. That flowy, black dress. She knew exactly when she last had it on: Her final date with Billy Hargrove. Magdalena bit down on her lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood, proceeded to pick up the painting, and placed it against the wall while also making sure to turn it around completely so her retinas wouldn't have to be blinded by visions of her in that damn dress—it was a bad omen. As she did so, Magdalena May grumbled a couple of furious sentiments directed at her uncle who was still outside roughhousing with his brother:

"All that fucking bullshit about how returning home would finally do me some good. All those promises of a fresh start. Frank, you may be a phenomenal musician, but you really are a delusional bastard."

𝐕. 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 —
i had to include billy, y'all.
i miss his sorry ass so
much. he lowkey deserved
a redemption arc !!