𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃; stranger things

chapter one

Amelie could feel the stares penetrating her skin as she walked closer to the front doors. Teenagers were gathered in groups around cars and benches, some skateboarding along the cement while others squashed their cigarettes into the curb before the teachers arrived. Still, the girl kept moving, even when the whispers of her image travelled into her ears.

The bell rang overhead just as the girl passed through the front doors. It was even busier inside, so busy that nobody paid the girl any mind as they rushed to their classrooms. She tried to evade the inevitable bumps and shoves of mindless teens laughing with the friends without the care for spacial awareness, even if it was the only thing Amelie worried about. But it wasn't. That and the possibility of going rogue. Of losing it. Of losing control.

What if someone pushed her too hard? Too far? What if someone said something and she couldn't hold back? It would ruin her. And they would find her. And they would take her. She wouldn't see her parents - the people who had just driven off in their car and the people who remained lying on their kitchen floor. She wouldn't see her room, or her new house, or herself, because The Lab ruined her. It took her body and scraped it of identity, leaving just a child that should've had the world in front of her. That world had been changed into a man that haunted her for the rest of her life.

The office receptionist was nice. When he handed her the timetable for her classes and her locker number, he smiled and wished her good luck. She appreciated the gesture, even if it was only copied from the last two hundred times he'd had the conversation.

Amelie almost scoffed when she approached her locker, the halls finally emptied of teens. Number three-hundred and six. Three. Mindlessly, she glanced down at her wrist. The foundation covered the tattoo perfectly, not an inch of the ink poking out from beneath her tainted skin. She hurriedly unlocked her locker and shoved her bag inside, only to pull out her history books and close the door behind her. She left the vicinity of her locker swiftly.

Her faded converses squeaked against the corridor floors as she walked towards her first class. She scanned the walls as she passed them, admiring the numerous posters and flyers pinned to the cork boards and spare lockers. She lost track of the room numbers as she blindly opened one of the classroom doors, her mind suddenly whirring back to life as she stared, wide eyed, at the interrupted teacher.

The class went silent as the eerie creak of the hinges filled the room. Amelie froze, her face quickly flushing as she silently parted her lips. She wanted to speak, to make a comment or apology or some convincing sort of excuse, but her thoughts fell empty.

The teacher cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, you are?"

She gulped. "Wrong class," she said quietly, her shoes scuffing against the tiles as she shuffled backwards. "So sorry."

As she closed the door, taking another step backwards, her eyes fell upon the class. On the boy. He had bright blond hair that caught the sunlight streaming in through the window, his elbows resting on his desk as he leant forward in his seat. He stopped twirling the pencil in his hand as he watched her leave, Amelie being the one to ultimately break eye-contact as she spun around to walk away. The boy continued to watch the doorway even after she'd disappeared and the teacher had resumed talking.

"Archer." From behind him, Steve Harrington scrunched up a torn piece of paper and threw it at the back of the blond's head. The boy threw his hands up behind his hair as he spun around in his seat.

"Seriously?" He hissed quietly, aware that the teacher was known for her short fuse. His arm dropped to hang around the back of his chair. "What?"

"Who was that?" Steve asked, pointing at the empty doorway. Archer furrowed his brows, confusion tugging his lips down into a frown as Steve swiped his hair away from his forehead.