chapter four; apologies

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꒰꒰・┄┄・𓆩♡𓆪・┄┄・꒱꒱

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꒰꒰・┄┄・𓆩♡𓆪・┄┄・꒱꒱


"LET'S GO HANG THESE BAD BOYS UP!" Summer waves a handful of posters in Jonathan's face before climbing out of his car. It was so early that the parking lot was practically empty and the schoolyards felt like a ghost town, it was kind of eerie but the pair preferred it that way.

They had been given permission to hang posters up around the school before class, and while the halls were empty, they wanted to get as much done as possible. Summer took on one end of each hallway as Jonathan did the other, eventually meeting in the middle before moving on to the next.

When students eventually began to trickle in through the doors, they made no effort in hiding their whispers or their pointed laughs. Mocking the two of them for actually wanting to find the little boy that had been missing and expecting anyone else to feel the same.

Summer never cared much for what people said about her, if it wasn't that she was a loser for hanging out with a 'psycho' like Jonathan Byers, it was that she was trying to get into Steve Harrington's pants, but she wasn't going to stand idly by when it came to the people she loved the most. Especially when it involved Will.

So when she was hanging up one of her last posters and a group of girls started to snicker behind her, she didn't hesitate before turning to them and sizing them up.

"Can I help you?" She retorts, watching as their faces grow nervous beneath her gaze. They don't answer, practically squirming with embarrassment, and Summer closes in on them before saying, "No? I didn't think so."

The three girls shuffle on their feet awkwardly before rushing off down the hall, leaving Summer feeling proud of herself. Unfortunately, distracted by what had happened, Summer's attention is dormant when she turns back to her remaining poster and the edge slices down the tip of her finger.

A small array of blood begins to collect and she quietly yelps in pain before hurrying to the girl's bathroom to clean it. It luckily wasn't anything to worry about but there was something so staggering about how such a tiny cut could make her squirm in so much pain.

The second the cold water makes contact with her skin, the bright red swirls down the sink as it fades away. But just as she's about to wrap up her wound in some tissue, the lights begin to flicker almost uncontrollably. Much like her street lights had a couple of nights prior.

There was no one else in there with her, each and every stall door being wide open as she takes a quick look around. But she could feel the room growing progressively colder with each second.

Trying to retain some of her warmth, she rubs her arms as she looks around once more when her eyes fall on the sink. Scrawled across the bottom of the basin was the blood she had washed away, spelling out three very distinct letters.

R U N

Summer was unable to form any coherent thoughts or logical explanations as to what was going on and how her blood was now forming letters. She blinks hard, and when she opens her eyes once more, the letters she thought she had seen were no longer there, but there was still a weird heaviness in the room.

𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞Where stories live. Discover now