*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—prologue: don't stop believin'
"PACK YOUR THINGS. WE'RE LEAVING." The door to Montana Barlowe's bedroom opens, her mother peeking inside. The woman looked upset, as if she had been crying. The girl felt bad for her. Her parents had just gotten into a very serious argument a few days ago. Monty had caught her father cheating on her mother while the woman was at work, so when she had returned home, the girl had told her everything.
Montana had been yelled at by her father only a few minutes after she snitched, and told she would be staying in her room for the rest of the day. Her guitar had been smashed to pieces in a fit of rage. She's never thrown a tantrum before.
Now she sits there, quietly on her bed, splintered wood that she never cleaned up days prior laying everywhere on the floor. She looks up at her mother, nodding silently. She climbs off of her bed and peeks under it, seeing her black and white Siberian cat, Wiley, lay down in his own bed, staring back at her.
The girl sighs, walking across the room to grab her suitcase and begin packing. She decided to only pack all of her necessary things, like her favorite outfits, her camera, her guitar picks, her vinyl records, her record player, a few pictures, and Wiley's bed and a few of his toys. On the other hand, her Sony Walkman with her headphones and her many music tapes were the only things not going in her suitcase since she needed something to do during the car ride. Everything else would be left here. Robert would probably throw them out or light them on fire.
Wiley trots across the room, going into his open cat carrier. He seemed to know what was going on. He was a very smart cat. Montana closes the latch on the carrier and picks it up. She also picks up her Penny board that was propped up against the wall and carries it under her arm as she drags her suitcase out of her room. Her younger sister, Marissa, and her older brother, Achilles, also have their things packed, and are headed downstairs with her.
Robert was pacing the kitchen as the three siblings walked past. He was ignoring them, though, as if they weren't even there. As if they've never existed. His anger was radiating throughout the house, Montana could tell, but he wasn't going to be able to do or say anything that would make the kids and their mother say here in this side of Hawkins, Indiana.
They leave the house soon after, Montana walking ahead of them, wanting to get to the car as soon as possible. She opens the trunk and puts her suitcase in, then climbs in the backseat, where her Penny board rests under her feet on the floor and Wiley's cat carrier sits on her lap. She pulls out her headphone and Sony Walkman, inserting a tape into the music player. Marissa is sitting beside her, legs propped up in the middle seat as she leans against the back right passenger door. A book was open in her lap—The Hobbit.
The front passenger door opens and Achilles sits down, slamming the door shut. He's silent as he waits for their mother to get in the car.
Neither of the three siblings have said a word to each other. Wanting to wait to leave the vicinity of the house first before they can talk to each other and their mother, to ask questions.
Bonnie finally gets in the car, keys in hand, after locking up the trunk. She starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, not once looking back at their old house.
Robert and Bonnie had divorced yesterday.
✧ ✧ ✧
It hadn't taken them long to reach their destination. Their uncle's house, which was across the street from the Wheelers and the Sinclairs.
Montana was first to get out of the car with all of her things, and she heads straight for the door. She kicks one of the bricks surrounding the perimeter of the small garden out front and finds a key taped to the bottom of it. She takes it off and inserts it into the lock on the front door. Then, she goes inside.
"Monty! How's my favorite niece doing?"
Lyle Barlowe walks to the foyer, grinning at the girl who sets her Penny board and cat carrier down by the door. She opens the carrier to let Wiley out.
"I'm good. Sort of." Montana shrugs, heading off to the staircase. She already had an idea of which room would be hers.
She sighs in relief when she reaches the bedroom that had belonged to her during the summer. It was an exact copy of her old bedroom, but bigger and brighter, and more cat-friendly. Uncle Lyle had kept the things she left the last time she was here: her bicycle that cannot fit anywhere in this house but her closet, various band posters and vinyl records on the walls, and the astronomy bed sheets Uncle Lyle had sewn specifically for her—she was an astronomy nerd.
There was a knock on her door a few minutes later. "Come in!" she yells, allowing Lyle to enter her room. He was holding a bowl of ice cream.
"Got your favorite: cookies and cream. Thought it would relieve whatever stress you have after the move."
"Thanks, I guess," Montana takes the bowl from him and sets it beside her on the bed. "I just... feel bad or something, you know? Because I snitched."
"Hey," Lyle sits down beside her, moving the bowl so that it doesn't spill. "Sometimes it's a good thing to snitch on people. Sometimes it'll save you a lot of trouble in the future."
"It created more problems. We're all mopey. Except Marissa. I think she's just relieved to get out of there. I mean, it was a literal shithole after everything that Dad's done." Monty picks up the plastic bowl, scooping up some of the ice cream with the spoon, before putting it in her mouth. "I'm not even enjoying it... Maybe it's because I'm sad." She sets the bowl on the floor and crosses her arms over her chest, staring at her lap as she swung her legs back and forth.
"Snitching on Bobbie saved my ass thousands of times," Lyle chuckles, shaking his head. Monty still didn't seem happy. "Hey, at least you're eating it. I didn't get it for nothing."
"Yeah," the girl sighs, leaning back against the bed, blanket-covered mattress touching her back. "I guess you're right. Uncle Lyle?"
"Hm?" the man turns to look at his niece, tilting his head as he thought about the meaning questions Monty could possibly ask him.
"What's for dinner?"
Lyle sighs, a laugh leaving his lips. That wasn't the question he was expecting. But it was something, at least.
"You're probably not that hungry anyway. I'll leave you to finish your ice cream. Sound good?" he replies, getting up from the bed. Monty sits up, grinning at him as she gives him a thumbs up and then picks up the ice cream bowl, returning to finish it.
✧ ✧ ✧
"I was upstairs talking to Monty for like, what, half an hour, and the kitchen is trashed!" Lyle shouts, throwing his arms up dramatically as he walks into the kitchen. There was spilled milk all over the counter, running down the cabinets and dripping onto the hardwood floor. An opened box of Quaker Oats was discarded on the counter, some of the packets ripped open, contents spilled all over the stovetop.
"I was unpacking," Bonnie replies, shrugging. "I'll clean it up for you, Lyle. No worries."
"No need," I'll do it myself. It's not like you did it, Bon," Lyle gets a rag and wets it under the sink.
"I was sitting out on the porch trying to finish my book," Marissa comments, leaning over the couch in the living room. She glances towards her brother, who's rubbing his nose every five seconds and sniffing. "Dude! Were you snorting a line?"
"I'm sorry, what?" Bonnie turns her head to stare at Achilles and she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "How many times am I going to tell you, Achilles, you can't do that here. You should've left it at the house..."
"But they're mine!" the boy complains, frowning at his mother. "I paid for them with my hard-earned cash and—"
"Drugs are not something hard-earned cash should be spent on," Marissa mutters, sitting back down.
"Your sister's right," Bonnie says, walking past the kitchen and narrowing her eyes at her son, who was in the process of going to the living room to sit beside his younger sister.
"Stop looking at me like I'm going to die tomorrow, Mom!" Achilles replies, sitting down.
"If you keep that shit up, maybe you will!"
"Les, you're really stupid when you're high and Mom is right, you know," Marissa comments, hitting him on the head with the book, which elicits a pained "ow!" from Achilles.
It falls silent after that. Lyle spends the next few minutes cleaning up the rest of the mess just as Monty walks downstairs, an empty bowl in her hands. She places it in the sink and turns on the faucet, allowing some of the water to pour into the bowl, before turning it off and—
A crash sounded from upstairs. Wiley's running down the steps as if something spooked him. He jumps on the back of the couch and stays there, pupils dilated and round as his tail flicks over the back of the couch, the hairs on his back standing up, staring directly at the stairs.
"Wiley, what's wrong, bud?" Monty picks up the cat, staring up at the stairs apprehensively. The others are looking too, expecting a killer to have broke into the house.
Someone had broken into their house. But it wasn't a killer. Nor was it a burglar. Maybe it was the sole reason for the mess in the kitchen.
There was a girl with a blonde buzzcut standing at the top of the stairs, barefoot, and wearing what looked like a hospital gown.
author's note
introducing 007 in the
prologue bc that's what
i had planned? yes
no one:
seven: surprise?
anyways, meet the barlowes!
achilles is basically rafe
cameron but nicer. the only time
he's actually anything like rafe
is when he's high on cocaine 😐
marissa is a total tlotr and hobbit
nerd. robert fucking sucks and
lyle is more of a dad to these kids
than robert ever will be. bonnie
doesn't really do much now
that the family's at lyle's house
bc lyle does all the work and
he loves it, so she's just like,
there...
monty nation rise up!!
also, seven is me with quaker oats:
I LOVE QUAKER OATS!!
maple and brown sugar is
the best flavor btw
06.03.22