PAIN KILLER [DISCONTINUED]

002. PREQUEL [2]

002.

――― CHAPTER TWO ―――

PREQUEL [2]

SEPTEMBER 25TH, 1985

📍HAWKINS HIGH SCHOOL

9:02 AM

NOT EVEN ONE HOUR IN, I was ready to get out of there. I had to get out of there. Not even one hour in, I had a unbridled hatred for Hawkins High. The last two weeks I'd managed to get through was a feat in itself. 

As soon as I'd arrived at the school, I'd felt the immediate need to rush to the bathroom and vomit― which I had ended up doing. The taste of bile in my mouth was profound and I grabbed a handful of mints to shield the disgusting smell that was wafting out of my mouth. 

The door creaks open and I see Max. 

"Oh," she says with a small smile. "Hi." 

I nod at her through the mirror as I tie my hair back into a ponytail. 

I've been worried about Max. Over the summer, she hasn't spent much time with any of us. Not Dustin, not Mike, not Lucas― considering they broke up, but not even me― and we used to be best friends. Before the Mall Fire― before Billy's death― we were inseparable. Her parents would treat me as their own daughter and so would mine. We spent more time together than anyone. When El came in, it just made the trio even better. We'd spend all our time shopping or riding our bikes― getting Hopper mad when we kept the door closed― and sometimes even stealing some ice-cream from Scoops. 

But things aren't sunshine and rainbows like they were a few months ago. After Billy's death, Max's life began to go downhill. Her Mother started drinking profusely all while maintaining two jobs, and her Step-father abandoned them completely. 

But it's not just that. Back a few months ago, right after Billy's murder, she had told me that she'd been getting nightmares― headaches― trouble sleeping. I don't know if she still does― but for some, strange reason, I have this knowing feeling that she still is. 

A faint ghost of a smile is on her lips as she opens her bag, revealing a orange, cylindrical bottle, filled with pills that rattle as she closes her bag. "Are you gonna keep staring at me like I'm a dead corpse, or what?" 

I blink back out of my head. "Oh. Right. Sorry," I say, laughing under my breath. "How have you been?" I ask. 

She shrugs as she downs the pills without any water. "Fine. You?" 

I shrug as I hastily grab my makeup bag from my bag. I applied a dot of concealer several places on my face― putting emphasis on the prominent dark circles under my eyes as I blend the creamy mixture out carefully with my fingers. "I have to do this shitty school mandated counseling now― so, yeah, never been better." 

"No way," she says, turning to me in surprise. "You have to do that shit too?" 

I chortle. "Yeah," I say. "Because of what happened to my Mom. Why do you have to?" 

Her body goes stiff― almost like she is a dead corpse. "Billy," she mutters. 

"Oh," is all I manage to say. Then I try again. "Max," I say.