"Leave us alone!" I looked up at the woman standing across the room at the front door, yelling at whoever was in front of her. "I'm done with this! I'm done with you! I don't want my daughter to have any part in this!"
"She's been gifted!" a male voice argued. It was strangely familiar, but I couldn't place it. "This goes along with everything I've been trying to achieve. You can't just back out now!"
"She isn't another person you can test on!" the woman screamed, growing more and more irritated. Everything was starting to go blurry, and someone began to cry. "I can't continue on with this!"
I sat up with a gasp, trying to calm my heart as it beat faster than I could handle. Wasting no time, I reached out and grabbed the thin journal from my nightstand. I turned on the flashlight that had been set next to it and stuffed it in my mouth, holding it tight with my teeth as I recalled everything I had seen. Dad told me the best way to work through trauma was by writing anything associated to it down, and it had become almost a personal law for my night terrors.
Eleven was fast asleep, curled tight into a ball and murmuring every so often to herself. Our small bedroom clock had the small hand set on the number three, and the darkness outside reflected the correct time to it. The flashlight flickered a few times due to its drained battery life, and I closed my journal with a sigh.
"Why are you up?" El's head popped up in the corner of my eye, and I turned my head to face the younger girl as I laid back against my pillows. She was rubbing her eyes blearily, squinting as she stared at the light. "It's not morning."
"Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up," I apologized. Eleven shrugged, propping herself up on her elbow. Her hair was sticking out everywhere from sleeping.
"Dreams again?"
"You can say that." I tossed the flashlight up in the air, raising my hand to use my powers to hold it in place for a few seconds before catching it. "Before you came back for Christmas, I had Anya's vibing skills for a few weeks. It slowly dulled after she left, and now I can't even sense if Dad's awake anymore. My telekinesis disappeared until you came back, and now I can turn off the light from the comfort of my bed."
"You're still learning?" Eleven thought out loud. "It took me time. Maybe you take longer."
"But that wouldn't explain the surge I feel every time my skin makes contact with yours," I shook my head, wiping the blood from my nose with the back of my wrist. "Ellie? Question: why does our nose bleed every time we channel our abilities?"
"I don't know. Feel something pushing inside my head when I use mine."
"You mean pressure?"
"Yes," El nodded, happy to have a word to describe the feeling. "Pressure." She wrinkled her nose, and I knew she was debating whether to ask me a question or not. "Can you teach more words?"
"Now?" I asked, shutting off the flashlight. I could still see a dim outline of her body, but it was coming more into focus as my eyes adjusted.
"I want to speak like you," she said. "Speak like Mike and Dustin and Lucas. Not weird."
"Um, okay," I agreed, rolling on my back and looking up at the ceiling. "So remember how the Lorax lived by those colorful trees?"
"Yes."
"Well, the colors stood out a lot. They weren't faded, which basically means to lose color and become grey. They were really bright, so you could describe them as vibrant."
"Vibrant," Eleven repeated, holding the 'v's out for a long time as she felt the strange vibration against her lips. "Vibrant. Dull."
"Yeah, and when you see something very old, it's ancient, like the houses monsters on TV live in. Celebrations are when you're happy and decide to be together with other people who are also happy. Enormous means very big, and versatile means you can move however you want without something outside of you stopping you."
"Is Hopper ancient?" I held back my laughter at her question. "What?"
"Yes, but don't tell him I said that."
♢♦︎———————-♦︎♢
"Hey, that smells good," I grinned, giving Dad a hug from behind as he prepared breakfast for the three of us. My hair had already been pulled up into a high ponytail for cheer (it was required to wear the uniform almost all the time) and I had done my makeup. "You haven't made french toast in a long time."
"Well, I'm in a good mood," he chuckled, allowing me to join by his side and help him. The events from last year had brought us closer than we had ever been before. "I heard you get up last night. Another nightmare?"
"Not exactly," I told him. "I've had this dream a few times before. It's this woman, and she's yelling at a man about being done with something. I have no idea what it means."
"As long as it isn't scaring you, that's all that- oh, Jesus!" I turned my head to the right, jumping myself when I saw Eleven wearing a bedsheet with two holes cut out for her to see.
"Ghost," she exclaimed proudly.
"Yeah, I see that." Dad left the stove with the skillet, dropping the french toast on individual plates for us. I gave El a small smile, but my heart hurt to see her so excited for something she wasn't allowed to do.
"Halloween."
"Sure is," my father sighed. "But right now, it's breakfast, okay? Come on, let's eat." I sat down in my usual seat at the middle, motioning for Eleven to join me.
They wouldn't see me," she said quietly. Dad froze for a few seconds before grabbing the silverware for us.
"Who wouldn't see you?"
"The bad men." When she mentioned them, I reached my hand under my shirt and scratched my scars, bumpy to the touch. "Trick or treat." Dad gave me a quick glare before turning back to the younger girl.
"You want to go trick-or-treating?" The sheets moved back and forth from El's nod. "You know the rules."
"Yes, but-"
"Yeah, so you know the answer."
"No, but they wouldn't see me," El protested, desperation evident in her voice as he sat her down in the chair next to me. "They wouldn't see me!"
"I don't care," he said sternly. "You go out there, ghost or not, it's a risk. We don't take risks, all right? They're stupid, and-"
"We're not stupid!" El finished for him with a huff, pulling the sheets off and tossing them to the ground to join me at the table. She stayed silent, pushing her breakfast aside.
"I can try to leave early from the party?" I suggested to her. "I mean, I think it's stupid to leave you alone all night." I glanced over at my father, jerking my head to get his attention. "The both of us could come home early. He could pick some candy up from the store and we could watch a scary movie."
"How's that for a compromise?" Dad agreed. Eleven's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Compromise?"
"C-O-M-promise?" he repeated in a gentler tone, watching her expressions. "How about that's your word of the day? It's something that's kind in-between. It's like halfway happy."
"By five-one-five?" she asked the two of us. I nudged her plate back in front of her with a smile.
"Maybe not that time for me, but I promise he will make it."
"Promise," my father nodded. "I promise." Eleven shrugged, giving him a small smile for a brief moment before grabbing the syrup.
"Halfway happy." Dad grinned, reaching across the table to mess with her hair. "Rachel got more books."
"Some Doctor Seuss and Bridge to Terabithia, nothing much," I told him.
"And the superhero book!" I closed my eyes, breathing slowly. Eleven realized her mistake, muttering under her breath, "I think it's cool."
"Superhero book?" Dad repeated in disbelief. "Rachel..."
"Just a small Marvel book about their characters," I tried to defend myself. "There's this character, Rogue, who has the ability to steal others' powers-"
"Rachel."
"-and she's able to use them herself! Maybe that's what I have and how I can channel what Ellie can do-"
"No!" Eleven and I flinched when his fist made contact with the table, shutting me up. Dad quickly calmed down, rubbing his left temple. "No. Just like Eleven isn't allowed to leave, you aren't allowed to use your powers."
"But there has to be a reason I have them!" I argued. "Aren't you curious?"
"No, because you know what curiosity leads to? Trouble," he huffed. "It's not open for debate, understand?" I didn't respond, looking back down at my plate. All I could hear was Polaris meowing from our room. "Understand?"
"Totally."
♢♦︎———————-♦︎♢
I fought back the daily wave of embarrassment as I parked my bike over at the middle school campus. Everyone had cars as seniors except for me, but I wasn't about to tell my father that. We barely had enough money for me to go to college as it was, and I wasn't about to whine about not having something to flaunt at school. My bike was in good condition, and I was going to make sure it lasted until I graduated.
"Rachel!" I looked over my shoulder, a smile spreading across my face when I saw Dustin speeding towards me on his own bike. I had seen him or his friends in weeks. To celebrate Halloween, he wore an almost perfect replica of the Ghostbusters uniform, his backpack replaced with a proton blaster. "Rachel!"
"Oh, my God, I love your costume!" I squealed, giving him a massive hug when he parked his bike next to mine. "You've gotten so big!"
"Look, look, look!" he said cheerfully, smiling wide so I could see the dentures filling in the spaces where teeth should be. "Cool, huh?"
"Very cool," I agreed. He took in my cheerleading uniform, wrinkling his nose.
"Is that your costume? Looks really similar to the ones they wear at the high school."
"That's because it is," I hummed, sharing the same feeling. "I would kill to wear a pair of jeans once in a while. Hawkins isn't exactly the warmest place."
"I feel you there," he agreed, pointing at me for a brief moment before setting his arm down. "I miss seeing you at Mike's place. Do you and Nancy even talk anymore?"
"From time to time," I answered vaguely. I wasn't lying; the two of us said hi whenever we passed each other in the hall. I did it for her sake. I wasn't about to keep her and Steve apart when they were happy together. "Maybe sometime I can take you and your friends out for lunch. On me, of course."
"The guys would be thrilled," Dustin spoke for them. "I gotta go, I told them I'd meet them at Will's locker. See ya!" I chuckled to myself, watching the curly-haired boy run to the side school entrance and throw the doors open. I missed him, hell, I missed everyone. I was part of a gang of misfits and had to throw it all away. Maybe Eleven had a point about fighting back. We weren't exactly happy.
I made my way inside the high school, dodging past groups of my fellow students in the halls to try and get to my locker. My eyes widened when I saw who was standing in front of it. "Steve?"
"When did Rachel Hopper start wearing skirts every day?" he asked me in a joking manner. I started moving to give him a hug, but I quickly stopped myself and hid the action to make it look like I was pulling my backpack off my shoulders. "But seriously though, when did you start going out for cheer?"
"This year?" I offered, causing Steve to cross his arms against his chest as he rolled his eyes in amusement. "Come on, I'm better than you think."
"I never thought you sucked," he scoffed, shifting his weight as he leaned against the lockers and allowed me space to open mine. "I'm just... surprised. I came to that theater when they were showing Guys and Dolls, but you weren't even in it."
"I don't have time to do the shows anymore, Harrington," I sighed, grabbing the textbooks I needed for my morning classes. "I've got to focus on college resumes and cheer practice. I still send applications for casting agents."
"But this isn't the Rachel Hopper I know." His hand brushed against my arm, and I froze at the contact. I slammed my locker door shut with my mind, turning my head to face him as I felt warm blood move slowly from my nose. "Jesus!"
"The Rachel Hopper you know had to move on for reasons you can't even begin to understand," I said cooly, wiping it away with my fingers. "And it wasn't by choice either, so what are you doing by my locker?"
"I-I-I just came to see how you were doing-"
"I think that's total bull," I cut him off. "I know how this school thinks, so I know they're probably finding it strange that Steve Harrington is chatting with some cheerleader instead of spending time before class with his girlfriend."
"I can have friends who are the opposite gender!" he sputtered.
"But one who you had feelings for?" I threw back, keeping my voice low so passing students didn't hear me. "Steve, I support you and Nancy, I really do. She's like a sister to me. Don't hurt her, okay?"
"Do you know how much it hurt when you left?" Steve said suddenly, catching me off guard.
"What?"
"Felt like shit," he told me, spitting the curse word out as if it pained him. "Your life wasn't the only one that changed after everything happened. I'm not the most popular douchebag in this school, and you're not the photographer who I barely talked to in physics. You wouldn't even look at me after Christmas! I didn't have Carol or Tommy, it was just Nancy. And it was pretty lonely at times."
"Don't turn this around on me-"
"You left Nancy." His words stung. "Don't claim to be trying to help her when you abandoned her a few weeks after Barb died. Don't tell me I'm the one who was trying to jump ship when you were already strapped in the lifeboat." With an angry huff, he stormed off, leaving me to replay his words over and over again in my mind.