STRANGER THINGS IMAGINES

Death

---So this piece was inspired by the idea that after going through something intensely traumatic, some people end up with the ability to see how others around them are going to die. But this piece is where the main is first discovering their abilities, so they don't really know what's going yet and the only way they react is in fear and confusion. Enjoy.--

For someone as smart as yourself, you could never figure out why death was a necessary evil. Not that you believed in the idea of living for eternity, because that sounded like another form of hell, but you couldn't understand why death had to be so cruel to those who didn't deserve to suffer and die in pain.

You knew death was a fickle thing, that it could never really be controlled by anyone in the known universe, but still, you wished that somehow, death was made easier for some. But that's the thing about wishes, the majority of the time, they go horribly wrong.

It had been nearly two years since you had come back from the Upside Down, nearly a year since you went through what could only be described as a nightmare in hell. Stupidly, you assumed that everything could go back to normal, that the world around you would just phase back into boringness and you would hardly remember your time in that hellish place, trying desperately to survive. You thought you weren't greatly affected, that the nightmares would stop haunting you as time passed. But oh, how you were wrong.

Nothing would ever be normal again.

Blood ripped skin, organs come out of the large hole that was in the middle of his chest, a look of hollowness plastered on his normally scowling face. For a moment you couldn't figure out who or even what was standing in front of you, but then you realised as the figure reached out to press their hand against your shoulder.

"C'mon loser, focus, if any of these stupid kids drown in this damn pool I'm blaming you." Billy Hargrove stood in front of you, arms crossed against his chest and a look of extreme annoyance on his face. Suddenly everything was coming into focus around you. You could hear children splashing around wildly in the pool, women turning pages in their crinkly magazines and one of the lifeguards on duty blowing their whistle loudly.

There was no horribly injured figure in front of you, instead, it was just plain old Billy. And for a moment, you couldn't make sense out of what was happening, but as you turned to head to the bathroom, everything around you changed.

A little boy walked past you with water running out of his ears and nose, skin a sickly blue and clothes dripping onto the cement beneath your feet. You turned away, wishing for the terrible image to go away, but instead, you nearly bump into Mrs Wheeler. She, much like the little boy and Billy, made your skin crawl, because all you could see was deep red bruises on her face, and blood running down her arms and over her tight-fitting bathing suit. But it was her eyes that terrified you the most because instead of her normally bright eyes staring at you with a kind smile on her face, all you saw was two empty eye sockets, the rims gorged and puss dripping down her cheeks.

"Honey, are you alright? You're looking pale, maybe you should sit down." She tries to take you by the arm and lead you over to one of the chairs by the side of the pool, but you pull away and stagger back. Everyone around you was dead, from gunshot wounds to disease-ridden faces, everyone that you saw was no longer themselves. And it was awful.

Somehow, between the intense feeling of fear and the tears running down your face, you made it out of the pool area and onto the street. All you could do was run, away from that place, away from your own fears and nightmares. You were praying that this horrible experience was just a terror in the night come to haunt you in your sleep, but you couldn't be more wrong, because every time you pinched yourself or willed yourself to wake up, you only kept running.

Legs cramping, lungs burning and with tears starting to dry against your skin, you pushed through the slightly open door and into the living room of the Byers household. You had no idea what led you there, nor why you thought it was a good idea to run the 4 miles from town to the house when you definitely were not in the best shape, but here you were.

You broke down then, sudden sobs racking your body as you stood in the old living room, falling to the worn carpet and arms coming around to cradle yourself. Your cries caught the only other person in the house by surprise, and soon you could hear footsteps making themselves towards you.

Jonathan Byers stood in the middle of the room looking down at you with an expression of both surprise and horrified worry. He didn't know what was going on, nor why you were here instead of at work at the pool. But the thing that hurt the most was that you were crying, and he didn't know why, nor how to stop it.

"Y/N? Babe?" You didn't respond to his words, so he bent down to try and get closer to you, but then you were jolting away from him, body moving to the other side of the room in record time. Your cries became whimpers then, and as you hid your face from him, eyes clenched shut, your arms stayed out in front of you to push him away from you.

"No, don't...I can't, I can't." Everything around you scared you, because every time you looked at someone, even in passing, suddenly they were dead, and you were in hell. You couldn't have that happen with Jonathan; you just couldn't have that with him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay over here, I promise. I won't touch you. I just want to help; you can talk to me." Jonathan sat so he faced you but was still in the same area of the room. As much as he wanted to reach out and hold you, make you feel safe and help you hide from the fears that were invading your mind, he knew that wasn't an option. And so, he sat there, hands fiddling in his lap and eyes on you.

The two of you stayed like that for hours, the sun going down gently outside and the room filling with a warm golden glow. It made everything seem better than it was.

You were sick of it then, hiding away and being afraid of everything. You had no idea what tricks your mind was playing on you, but you had had enough. So, you looked up, towards the boy you loved and tried to gulp back the tears that came when you saw his face.

Wrinkled and old, with leathery skin marked with age lines and hair that had turned a light grey. His body seemed frail and smaller, hunched over slightly, and fingers shaking more than they ever had.

Except when you looked at Jonathan, you didn't get that urge to run away in fear or despair, but instead, you moved closer, hand resting on his knee gently.

He didn't die a gruesome death like all the others, you suspected, he died peacefully, in his sleep, from old age. Somehow, you knew that suddenly, and every other fear that had spun around your head for the last couple of hours just disappeared into nothing.

Jonathan took you in his arms then, lifting you into his lap so he could lean his head on top of yours as you leaned into his chest.

"I'm not going to ask what just happened, because I get the feeling you're not ready to talk, but if you want, I could order some pizza and we could just stay like this until you fall asleep. How does that sound?" You nodded against his chest, letting out a faint hum, and pushing yourself further into his comforting warmth.

"I'll tell you about it when I'm feeling better, okay? I just can't right now." He nods his head, and the two of you fall back into a peaceful silence, wrapped up in each other and basking in the golden sunset glow.

You haven't told Jonathan yet about what you saw, or why you freaked out so much, and maybe you never will. But because you knew that he was going to be okay, and die in a way he deserved, you didn't think much more about it.

The visions were rare now, and even though you didn't really know what they meant, you were happy to push them to the back of your mind and forget about them. 

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A possible part 2??

Will x