EDITING [Graduation] Eddie Munson x Reader

Part One : Late

   Music was blasting throughout your eardrums, Quiet Riot's Metal Health screaming as you awakened from your slumber. You released a groan and tried to slap the sleep away from you.

  You pulled your dead arm to your face and eyed the watch on your wrist You checked the time, and exclaimed, "Shit! Fuck fuck fuck!" This would be the third time in a week you'd been late to school. Hawkins High. The city of Hell. And lucky for you, this was the spectacular and magnificent town you lived in.

  You scrambled out of bed, throwing the heavy blanket off you, causing the frigid temperature of your room to nip at your exposed skin. Your socket feet hit the floor, the carpet comforting your cold toes, and you rushed to your closet to throw up some outfit. Hurling on your simple apparel: ripped blue jeans, Metallica shirt, and jean-like jacket with a picture of Pink Floyd plastered on the back, you paced to your bathroom and shoved your old toothbrush with toothpaste on it, into your mouth. Your face scrunched and grimaced in disgust as you realized all the thistles on your toothbrush were about stale, it served well but still had not such a good taste or feel to it. You didn't know what an old wash rag would taste like, but to you, that is what the flavor of the indecent and ancient toothbrush seemed to you. You stared at yourself in the mirror and gritted your teeth as the scuffles moved quickly along the front of them. You spat the white toothpaste into your sink and threw your toothbrush into the little bin, filled with garbage, and forgot it, there had to be no more wasting of your time, especially

  You pulled the top drawer handle attached to your counter and the wide crate revealed numerous supplies of hair combs and accessories. You picked up the blue plastic comb and went to town on your tangled and bunched-up strands of hair. Your brows furrowed in pain as the knots began to kneed, the frizzles of the few strands curled naturally into your hair, making you seem like...Well, you.

  Many would say that your daylight hair would always look like a rat's nest, of course, you wouldn't blame the people who would jokingly state those comments, it is what it looks like. You've tossed in your sleep for as long as you could remember, which would be the cause of the incidents involving your hair, truly making it seem like a rat family's nest... Maybe a few spiders cuddling their way in there too.

  You scrunched your hair a bit after finishing brushing the twists out of your strands before tripping over your own feet while mustering your notebooks from their previous places and cramming them disorderly into your black book bag. You began to struggle with the zipper that would fasten it all together but with every yank, the metal stayed stationary. This spur made you irritated, but you ended your journey to hide your supplies and gripped a back strap from the tail of the sack and flung it over a shoulder.

  You grabbed your stack of keys from the side table, that resided next to your bed, while leaving the area of your room, pacing throughout your house and to the large front door. You whipped the door open and latched it shut against its frame while you stepped onto the concrete of your porch. You hastily slid yourself down the railing of the steps, the shortcut allowing you to soon plant your feet on the earth.

  Stepping onto the ground, a grudge damp, and bitter feel surfaced and soaked into your white socks. The bottoms of the fabric had become a gloomy gray as you stood mindlessly in the puddle for a few eternities.

  You stepped slowly back to the stairs and thunked yourself in the head, reprehending yourself mentally, "Shoes." You ran back inside and gripped your shoes off the shoe rack and slipped on the red converse without untieing them, only shoving your feet in, the strings looked sloppy.

  You glanced at your watch again from down below, the second period in school had already started without you, so you leaped into your 1967 Impala(i stole this from supernatural shh) after running back outside and locking your front door. You put the key into the ignition, turned it, and sped off away from your block of trailers.