(Y/N)'s mother storms into her bedroom, "Are you kidding me," she yells, shaking her husband, so that he'd wake up to hear what she's got to say. He slowly opens his eyes, gaining consciousness, and grimaces. He shuts his eyes again. The ringing in his ears is too much for him. "She isn't in her room!" (Y/N)'s mother says through a clenched jaw.
"What?" Her husband responds with fatigue.
"Our daughter!" (Y/N)'s mother shouts, making her husband groan because of the headache that is pounding on his skull. He waves his hand at her.
"Stop being loud," he manages to spit out. He can barely string a sentence together. "What about our daughter?" He's not piecing his wife's sentences together.
She starts off slowly and quietly, "Our daughter," her voice raises and gets more stern, "Is not," she finishes off at the same volume she came into the room with, "In her room!"
"Jesus," her husband scowls and sits up, rubbing his temples. "It's fine, she's probably just in another room or something," Mr. (L/N) is trying to calm his wife down, he believes she's overreacting.
"I've already checked every room! You think I wouldn't have done that by now!" (Y/N)'s mother states, aggravated with her husband for the hundreth time this week. "Where were you?" She questions him.
"What do you mean?" He grunts, his voice grizzly and rough.
"Are you?" she narrows her eyes and crosses her arms, "Are you hungover?" She asks her drowsy husband, venom drips from her words.
"What?" Is all he can muster as he looks up at his wife trying to fake a look of confusion. Mrs. (L/N) shakes her head back and forth and lets out a chuckle of disbelief.
"You were drinking last night weren't you?" She tries to be calm with her husband, however her demenor still has a harshness to it.
"No, of course not," (Y/N)'s father lies, it's a shame he's just as good a lier as his daughter.
"You're lying!" (Y/N)'s mother starts to yell again, causing her husband's headache to worsen. "You drank last night when I told you that you needed to watch for (Y/N)!" Mrs. (L/N) points her finger at her husband, "You were supposed to be there for her! You knew she was riding home from the Wheeler's on her own!" Her face is turning red. "Oh, God," she now has a look of fear and disgust painted onto her features. "What if?" She covers her mouth with her hand. "What if she got kidnapped? Oh, my God," her eyes are now teary.
"Listen," Her husband starts to speak. He stands up, wobbles a bit, and looks down at his wife, "I'm sure she just slept over at the Wheeler's, go give Karen a call."
(Y/N)'s mother scrunches up her nose and pushes her husband away from her, "I can't believe you," her eyes are glistening with tears and her voice is sharp and forced like she's trying to hurt her husband just by speaking. She whips around quickly and walks angrily down to the phone in the kitchen.
(Y/N)'s mother's high heels are clacking hurriedly against the hardwood floor. Her stomach has dropped and her muscles are tightened. The thought of her daughter being missing is too much for her to bear. She takes the phone off of it's hook and starts to dial the Wheeler's phone number. She messes up a few times before getting each digit correct.
As the phone rings (Y/N)'s mother sticks a piece of hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath, trying to get rid of the remaining feeling of rage which lingers from her outburst. After a few seemingly long seconds of ringing, Karen Wheeler picks up the phone and answers with, "Joyce?"
(Y/N)'s mother raises an eyebrow, "No, it's Mrs. (L/N), (Y/N)'s mother."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Karen apologizes, "Joyce just called and I-" Karen is cut off by an impatient Mrs. (L/N).
"Karen, did (Y/N) stay over last night?" (Y/N)'s mother questions while twisting the phone's cord around her finger nervously.
"No," Karen responds, "No, she and the boys left here a little after eight." (Y/N)'s mother's breath hitches. "Actually, Joyce just called about Will and-"
"I need to go. Thank you, Karen," Mrs. (L/N) cuts Karen off and quickly hangs up. She throws her jacket on and rushes out the door, nearly forgetting to close it behind her.
♥︎
A look of concern spreads across Karen's face, she wonders if the two children didn't find their way home last night. She takes a last look at her phone then, hangs it back on the wall. She makes her way up the stairs to Mike's room.
"Mike," Karen calls, gaining the attention of her son who is combing his messy hair out hurriedly. He turns his head towards her, indicating that he is listening. "Look for Will and (Y/N) today at school, okay?" Mrs. Wheeler leans against the door frame and her eyes wander around, trying to distract herself from her growing concern so she would come off calm to Mike. She doesn't want to worry him about his friends when they could be perfectly fine. "Mrs. Byers said that Will must have gone to school early. She didn't get to see him this morning so she wants you to check up on him," Karen tells her son, carefully wording her response as to not alarm Mike.
"Okay, I will," Mike responds nonchalantly. "What about (Y/N)?" Mike asks his mother, wanting an explanation on why he has to search for her as well. Mrs. Wheeler raises an eyebrow, not understanding what her son was asking her. Then, she realizes that she's left (Y/N) out of her version of the excuse.
"Yes, her too," Karen quickly says trying to be discreet with her words, leaving room for question. But not too much. She turns around and walks back to the kitchen hastily, as to not be bombarded with more questioning.
Mike is left in his room confused but he brushes this feeling off quickly so that he can finish getting ready for school.
♥︎
On their bikes, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike ride up the dirt pathway to Hawkins Middle School. As the school bell rings, the boys place their bicycles onto a rack and observe the scenery around them, searching for their friends. "That's weird," Mike says squinting, wondering if they're just out of sight, "I don't see them," The kids start to routinely stroll over to the doors of their school.
"I'm telling you, his mom's right," Lucas says, trying to convince his friend that there is nothing to worry about.
"They probably just went to class early again."
"Yeah, Will's always paranoid Gursky's gonna give him another pop quiz. And (Y/N) probably went with him," Dustin agrees with Lucas, confirming their friends' tendencies.
As The Party talk about possible explanations of where there friends could be, two boys catch sight of them and decide to give them their daily dose of torment. "Step right up, ladies and gentlemen," Troy, the more dominant of the two, says with an evil smirk. He lifts his arms up and talks sarcastically to an imaginary audience. The group turns around with agony, they don't want to go through the bullying. Not today or ever. "Step right up and get your tickets for the freak show," Troy finishes as the children come face to face with each other. "Who do you think would make more money in a freak show?" Troy asks his minion, James, the bigger of the boys. Troy saunters over to Lucas and with an intimidating tone he asks, "Midnight?" as he punches Lucas in the shoulder, "Frogface?" Mike tries the avoid the blow by blocking it with his arm but fails, "Or toothless?" Dustin gets his punch in the center of his chest. When Troy finishes calling the boys their offensive nicknames, James sighs dramatically and puts his hand to his chin, pretending to think deeply. As he considers his options he glances at each boy. His eyes land on Dustin.
"I'd go with Toothless," James mimics Dustin's lisp and points at him, answering his friend.
"I told you a million times, my teeth are coming in," Dustin stands up to the bullies, frustration embedded in his voice, "It's called Cleidocranial Dysplasia."
"I told you a million times," James mocks Dustin once again and scoffs along with Troy at Dustin's attempt at informing them about his condition. Troy's expression becomes serious again.
"Do the arm thing," he commands Dustin, who shakes his head with resistance.
"Do it, freak!" James raises his voice to startle Dustin into doing what he says. As to not cause any more trouble for himself, Dustin removes his jacket and backpack and places them onto the ground behind him. Then, he stretches his arms out in front of him and pushes his shoulders abnormally close together, causing his bones to make a cracking sound. James in Troy react dramatically, making sounds of disgust.
"God, it gets me every time," Troy chuckles. His eyes light up evilly as he discovers yet another way to poke fun at the group. "Hey, where's Fairy Boy and the Ghost?" Troy asks maliciously.
The group stays silent and their eyes divert to their feet. The boys don't like the names that themselves and their friends are called, they are ashamed of them. So, they feel slightly guilty for not being able to stand up for their friends when they aren't present to defend themselves. Not that they would have anyway.
Troy takes the uncomfortable looks of the boys in and grins, knowing his goal of making them feel unpleasant has been accomplished. "Oops, my bad," he says sarcastically, "The Ghost is right here," Troy points to the empty space next to Dustin, indicating that the invisible (Y/N) was there next to them. This is a play on the word "invisible". (Y/N) can obviously be seen, she just wasn't often noticed. Which in turn, gave Troy and James the idea for her nickname, "The Ghost".
The two bullies laugh and push Dustin, Mike, and Lucas out of their way as they walk towards the school.
"A**holes," Lucas says irritated. Dustin bends down to pick up the items he had to put down in order to embarrass himself in front of the bullies. Mike notices Dustin feeling down about himself.
"I think it's kinda cool," Mike says trying to uplift his friend's spirits, "It's like you have superpowers or something," he thinks of a superhero that could have a power relating to Dustin's condition, "Like Mr. Fantastic."
"Yeah, except I can't fight evil with it," Dustin responds to Mike, his efforts of comforting his friend failing. The group's journey to school resumes but now their facial expressions are flooded with defeat and insecurity.
♥︎
"Coffee and contemplatoon, Flo!" Is what Joyce Byers hears Chief Hopper shout at his co-worker before he walks into his office holding a mug of coffee and a donut. Joyce rises quickly from the chair as she hears Hopper's footsteps outside of the doorway. The sight of her startles the Chief and he stops short in his movements. He examines her worried stance. A cigarette is lit in her hand and her hair is uncombed. She's clearly bothered by something.
♥︎
Chief Hopper types the word "Missing" onto a police report. Joyce stands on the other side of his desk. She has told him about how Will didn't come home last night. "I have been waiting here over an hour, Hop," Joyce scolds Hopper for his failure to show up to work on time. Hopper sighs, tired of hearing the complaining from an anxious Joyce.
"And I apologize again," Hopper says, forcing the apology in a tone of boredom.
"I'm going out of my mind!" Joyce's eyes are open wide and filled with worry for her son.
"Look," Hopper forcefully places his hand onto his desk, "Boy his age, he's probably just playing hookie, okay?"
"No, not my Will," Joyce answers quickly and without hesitation, "He's not like that."
"Well, you never know," Chief Hopper tries reasoning with the worried mother, "I mean, my mom thought I was on the debate team, when really I was just scr*wing Chrissy Carpenter in the back of my dad's Oldsmobile, so..." Joyce is not going to be told her son is off rebelling.
"Look, he's not like you, Hopper," Joyce pauses to piece her explanation together, "He's not like me," she starts to get quieter, "He's not like...most," Hopper isn't interested in what Joyce is saying. He rolls his eyes subtly. She isn't disheartened by these actions, so she continues with her statement. "He has a couple of friends, but, you know, the kids, they're mean," Joyce waves her hands around, getting lost in what she's telling the Chief. "They make fun of him. They call him names," she's hurt by what Will has told her about the other children, he is the kindest person in her life. How could others not see that? "They laugh at him, his clothes-"
"His clothes?" Hopper interrupts with a question, "What's wrong with his clothes?" He's genuinely confused. What could be so strange about this boy's clothes that they could be made a conversation for bullies?
"I don't know, does that matter?" Joyce asks, once again frustrated with Hopper.
The Chief stares at Joyce with his eyebrows furrowed, "Maybe."
"Look, he's," Joyce's eyes become glossy with tears, "He's a sensitive kid."
Commotion can be heard from the hallway. Mrs. (L/N) barges into the office with Flo right behind her. A look of terror is in her eyes and there is persistence in her stride.
Hopper gives Flo a look that says, "I already have enough to deal with," Flo's expression is flat and unconcerned.
"I tried to tell her," she shrugs and walks back to her desk.
"Chief," (Y/N)'s mother says, trying to be as composed as possible, "I need to speak to you."
"Well, I'm busy at th-"
"It's urgent," Mrs. (L/N) interrupts with a deadly look on her face, "It's about my daughter."
"(Y/N)?" Joyce asks standing up and looking at the other woman, "Is she alright?"
"Oh, Joyce," (Y/N)'s mother notices that it is Joyce Byers, her daughter's best friend's mother, who is in a meeting with Chief Hopper. She realizes a question was asked to her and she swallows hard. "No, no she isn't," Mrs. (L/N) takes a deep breath, she doesn't want to cry in front of the Police Chief and another woman that she's familiar with. "She uh, she didn't come home last night," her voice is just above a whisper, afraid that if she spoke too loud a dam would break and tears would start to flow.
Joyce places a hand onto her forehead and puts the cigarette to her lips, taking a puff of it. "Neither did my Will," a small cloud of smoke comes out of her mouth and Mrs. (L/N) scrunches up her nose a little in disgust for the habit. But then she realizes the importance of Joyce's words. The two could be together. Hopper looks at the both of them and sighs.
"So," He drags out the word while thinking, "They must have decided it would be fun to run away. As an act of rebellion," Hopper does not sympathize with the two mothers.
"No, my (Y/N)," (Y/N)'s mother defends her daughter just like Joyce had with her son, "She's too shy to do something like that, she gets nervous," Mrs. (L/N) isn't really sure how to explain what her daughter is like. She's different, she knows that. She didn't really take the time or effort to understand why. "She's only friends with a small group of boys, they're all she's comfortable around," She looks at Joyce who's silently listening while swaying slightly side to side. "She wouldn't have," (Y/N)'s mother feels guilty about her next choice of words, "the guts to."
Chief Hopper looks up at Joyce, "They could have gone to Lonnie's."
"No, Will wouldn't have gone there," Joyce sits down and scoffs (Y/N)'s mother leans against a set of shelves.
"When's the last time you heard from Lonnie?" Joyce processes Hopper's question. Then, she hesitates for a second.
"Last time I heard, he was in Indianapolis. That was about a year ago," Joyce gets defensive, "But he has nothing to do with this," Now it's (Y/N)'s mother's turn to silently listen.
"Why don't you give me his number?" Hopper pulls out a pen from the cup on his desk.
"You, know Hopper, he has nothing to do with this. Trust me."
"Joyce," Hopper doesn't want to deal with her constant worrying, "99 out of 100 times, kid goes missing, the kid is with a parent or relative," Mrs. (L/N) stands up straighter, she's now starting to get ticked off by Hopper's ignorance.
"What about the other time?" Joyce stammers.
"What?" Hopper doesn't understand why Joyce can't just stop talking and take his explanation for an answer.
"Well, you said, '99 out of 100'," (Y/N)'s mother says trying to clarify for Hopper what Joyce's point is. He still doesn't get the hint.
"What about the other time, the one?" Joyce asks, tired of Hopper not giving her opinion a chance.
"Joyce-" Hopper tries to calm her down. To get her to see that she's overreacting.
"The one!" She shouts at him, knowing that her son is part of that one percent.
"Joyce, this is Hawkins, okay?" The mothers sigh at Hoppers apathetic behavior. "You wanna know the worst thing that's ever happened here in the four years I've been working here?" Joyce knows she isn't crazy, she has a feeling that something is terribly wrong. "Do you wanna know the worst thing?" (Y/N)'s mother also has the same feeling that something isn't right. Her daughter probably does have a reason to want to run away. Everyone does. But would she act on it? Would the urge be so strong that she had to give into it? Mrs. (L/N) places her index and middle fingers onto her temples. Hopper continues, "It was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie's head because it thought that her hair was a nest," The Chief doesn't suspect anything is wrong, not in a small town like Hawkins.
"Okay, fine. I will call Lonnie," Joyce tries to make a compromise with the Chief, "He will talk to me before he talks to-"
Hopper assumes what Joyce's next words could be, "What, a pig?"
"A cop!" Joyce starts to plead, "Just find my son, Hop," Her voice breaks, "Find him!"
Hopper nods resistantly, "I'll see what I can do."
"And what about my daughter?" Mrs. (L/N) is no longer propped up against the shelves and is now standing in front of Hopper's desk. "I want you to find her too," She says forcefully pointing at Hopper, her eyebrows are knitted together in annoyance. The Chief's laziness has pushed her over the edge.
"Yeah, oka-"
"Now, Chief!" She orders, pointing to the door.
She doesn't want her daughter out in this messed up world by herself any longer. But what she doesn't know is that (Y/N) isn't even in this world at all.
__________________________________
Oh boy, this was a long chapter. Thank you so much for all the reads so far I really appreciate it! I hope you've all enjoyed what I've written! I update every other weekend so be tuned to then! You guys are the best, have a great weekend ~WoodCeiling♡
*THE CHARACTERS, THEME, AND SOME DIALOGUE BELONG TO STRANGER THINGS AND THE DUFFER BROTHERS*