❝ 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘤𝘧𝘭𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯? ❞
in which violet harper moves to hawkins, indiana: where a boy came back to life.
STRANGER THINGS 2 ONWARD !
[ 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘰𝘤 𝘹 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯 ]...
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CHAPTER TEN THE BABYSITTER'S CLUB
( episode 8: the mind flayer cont. / episode 9: the gate )
Violet had been ushered back to the distant crickets and ticking clock echoing faintly from the Byers' dining room wall.
A small bout of claustrophobia clung to her chest in the scattered silence of sitting, hands clawing nervously for her necklace. She'd given up on peering through the speckled kitchen window, bright fluorescent floodlight seeping from the cracks in the door. Every now and again, she swore she saw shadows crossing through as they moved around the space.
'You call your Mom?'
Violet's neck cranes around to the question from Nancy's small silhouette standing in the dark hallway. Her footsteps trail across the carpet, stepping into the dim light, leaning against the wallpaper.
A tiny smile pulls at Violet's lips. 'She didn't pick up,' she replies quietly.
She knew she wouldn't. Violet's stomach had plummeted at the suggestion that she should call Marge to let know that she was okay, because she knew she wouldn't possibly care less on a Sunday night. Weekends were always so much more malevolent for her habits. Swallowing up all sense of the day; where you were, who you had to care for. Violet vacating the house on weekends was nothing new to the both of them. She'd left a mundane voice message anyway.
'I just told her I was out bowling.'
Nancy exhales a tiny laugh. 'I wish we were.'
Violet didn't know what to say back to that. She couldn't quite meet her eye, so she found it better to stare at her own hands. She didn't dare entertain Steve's silhouette perched in the far right of her peripheral; sprawled out across the couch next to Max and Lucas. Every now and again, she'd seen him loll his head back to the ceiling, breathing out a sigh and tilting his head to look out the front window. She pushed away the conversation they'd had about Marge earlier out of her mind, swivelling around in the dining room chair.
