1981 (Jim Hopper)

Dancing Queen

"ANOTHER OFFENSE, HANNAH?!"

My moms voice was shrill, cracking, my ear drums ready to explode at the simple sound of her scream.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN ANOTHER OFFENSE?! NAME ONE TIME I'VE COME HOME IN CUFFS!" I shouted back.

My dad stood at the center island of the kitchen, just listening. His ankles were crossed and he was seriously thinking.

"First he calls me about the CIGARETTES, then warns me about seeing you drink beer outside of the library... NOW THE WATER TOWER! What the hell are we going to do with you, Hannah? These are just the things he's noticed in the last two years... all in a relatively short amount of time. What's gotten into you?!"

"What's gotten into me? Are you joking? You two are more focused on my cousins than you are me! Who cares what I'm doing?! If Hopper didn't rat on me you two would barely even notice I exist!"

"Enough." My dad mumbles quietly.

"It's always about what I'm doing wrong, never what I'm doing right!"

"I said, enough, Hannah." He comes again.

"Blow it out your ass!"

My dad harshly smacks me in the mouth and I pull my hand to my face quickly.

"Hannah. Your mother and I have been talking and we want your things out of here in the morning."

"What?" My voice cracks.

"Dad I'm sorry for not shutting up but please-"

"We don't know how to handle you. You barely know how to handle yourself."

The tears rolled hot down my face. As if my night couldn't have gotten any shittier.

"Some parents you turned out to be." I say, wiping my tears and my slightly cut lip before running up the stairs and... well... packing.

My mind was racing, I had no clue where I was going to stay, and granted my parents didn't leave me high and dry, they gave me a grand which is a really good amount of money... but that still left me with only a few months in a motel. I couldn't even think of facing Elliot. I was still too pissed and her mom wouldn't ever let a kid who got booted from her own home stay with her family.

Even more so on my mind was Hopper. That son of a bitch. The smug, cocky asshole who put me in this predicament, all for just calling him what he is. A pig.
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So... the next morning I sort of went crazy, I took my back pack of clothes, my Walkman, and stormed all the way over to the police station, swiftly passing any other officers and barging directly into his office.

"You son of a bitch!" I grab the banana sitting on his desk and I chuck it at him.

"Uh... chief?" A woman calls from the doorway, wondering if she should apprehend me.

Hopper is holding his nose from the banana toss and sends her on her way.

"I've got it." He says under his breath.

She shuts the door softly and I take the opportunity to crawl over his desk and grab onto his shirt to bring him closer to me. James Monroe all over again.

He smelled of whiskey and after shave and his eyes were glossed over with little to no care. I was seething.

"You got me kicked out of my house. I'm homeless."

And get this... the asshole smiles at me.

"Serves you right. Maybe if you weren't such a punk and actually obeyed the law."