just another day. || eddie munson || COMPLETE

o41 || delilah

Delilah's hazel eyes shot open with a harsh gasp as she bolted upright in her bed. Her body was covered in sweat, the denim jacket Eddie had made her wasn't helping the sweating, but she slept in it every night. No matter how intense the nightmares were. Bats infected every good dream her brain tried to concoct. No matter what vivid, lucid, hallucination her mind crafted, it ended with Eddie being ripped to shreds by bats. She never saw Vecna, but still felt as if he was watching her. He had gotten his four kills. Almost. From what she heard, Max was still in a comatose state. She had gone to see her in one of her more aware moments. She spent most of her time inebriated one way or another. She felt awful seeing her like that. Her court appointed therapist called it survivor's guilt. Delilah knew that that very well could have been her laying in that hospital bed with her limbs all broken and shattered. Instead a poor teenage girl lay there in her place. It made her sick. It made her well with guilt. Guilt over Billy, guilt over Max, guilt over . . . Eddie.

She became aware of her surroundings as her eyes darted across the room, checking to make sure everything was the same. The same posters, the same polaroids and photographs hanging from her vanity, the same ashtrays filled with cigarette butts that Delilah had just started smoking. She missed Eddie's smell of Malboro reds hanging around her. So naturally, she picked up a life threatening habit to replace the hole in her heart that seemed unfillable. Everything reminded her of him. Dustin had even tried to give her Eddie's guitar pick necklace and she couldn't take it. She couldn't look at anything else and be reminded of him. She felt like her room was a memoir of a simpler time with him. She couldn't even watch the same movies anymore. She couldn't listen to the cure or the smiths or metallica or dio or anything that had become her normal. Only when she felt herself spiraling would she turn to her past. Which in turn only made her spiral harder.

Delilah attempted to run a hand through her curls, but was met with tangles and knots so thick she couldn't get her fingers through them. The self care routine certainly had taken it's time off. Delilah never felt like doing anything. She hardly wore makeup unless she went to a party but even then it was just dark eyeliner and mascara, maybe touch up the brows. Parties were a blur to her. She would drink until she was sick and she would naturally crash somewhere whether it be the front yard or in her own car. She didn't recognize this person she was becoming but she couldn't stop it. She was like a derailed train. She craved chaos and the silence it brought her mind. Solace was something she hadn't felt since the last time she held Eddie Munson. Everyone was constantly comparing Eddie to Billy in her life. Hell she was even guilty of it from time to time. It was always just how much better Eddie was than Billy and it hurt her to admit. It was true though. The things she hated about Billy and the things she hated about Eddie paled in comparison.

She hated the way Eddie ate cereal out of the box, but wouldn't have it any other way. She hated the way he talked about himself, but she knew he was better than that. She hated the way he forgot to brush his hair more than not, but she missed his messy curls.

The things she hated about Billy were far worse. She hated how conceited and arrogant he was. She hated how he thought everything had to go his way. She hated how he talked about the gay community and people of color. That had been the straw that broke her back. Max had confided in her about how he felt about Lucas. Delilah loved a lot of things about him, but she couldn't stomach dating a racist.

Eddie was everything Billy could have never been. Eddie accepted everyone for what they were. Sure he had his ill will against people who conformed, but maybe he had given a little more of an opportunity for difference when it came to people like herself and Lucas and Chrissy. She was still in disbelief that one of her good friends was gone. So many people had been lost in this.

Eddie obviously hit her the hardest, but next in line was Fuzzy's Record Emporium. It was one of the buildings the 'earthquake' took out. Fuzzy had everything in that building. First edition priceless presses of records, hundreds upon hundreds of dollars, not to mention the countless memories him and his family had there and it all was destroyed thanks to Vecna. Her stomach ached every time she thought about it. The family was moving to Colorado. She was losing everything all at once and she didn't know how to handle it. She was supposed to go to a going away party at their house that night as they prepared for their move. Delilah rolled over out of bed and gained her balance on the floor beneath her. Her head pounded and she wasn't sure if it was from the nightmares she had experienced all night or the raging hangover she had from drinking too much cheap whiskey the night before. The evidence was obvious as she laid her eyes on a small trash can she kept in her room that had vomit pooled at the bottom of it.