your lips on my red cheeks

i hate you, my love

You could describe a lot of things you've experienced with the word "chaos." For instance, the times when Dustin and Lucas yelled at each other during a DnD game because they thought the other made a stupid choice. An even better example, but what could be described as an understatement, would be the whole thing that happened in Starcourt Mall. Personally, you'd describe the scene in front of you as... the opposite. Because, at that moment, everything seemed to make sense as the world around you slowed down. Your vision was clearer, and a sense of absolute clarity rushed through you.

As Lucas intentionally ran into Jason, his arms wrapping around the older boy's torso, you couldn't help but meet the latter's eyes. Those blue eyes of his weren't like Max's. Just moments before, his eyes made you feel cold in the hot room, a shiver crawling up your spine that froze you in your spot, whereas Max's eyes would make your face flush red and allow butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You knew Jason never expected to be in this position because, right before Lucas tackled him, you could see the fear, sadness, and desperation in his eyes. It felt like you understood his situation because if Max were to die and her potential murder was out there, you'd do almost anything to find that person. But, all you could do at that moment was hate him as you observed the cliché jock's face morph into pain and his eyes squeezed closed.

Suddenly, the world shifted back to its normal pace and, against your wishes, you didn't hear the thud of Lucas and Jason's bodies falling, the clatter of the gun against the wooden floor, nor the sound of the attic door banging against the wall after being slammed open. No. All you could hear was the echo of a bullet leaving its barrel finally reaching your ears.

It briefly crossed your mind that you would end up injured if you went into the attic. Yet, you still climbed those stairs and didn't believe it was actually happening. Everything that did happen wasn't what you expected. You didn't think that a bullet piercing your abdomen would feel like a pebble being thrown, nor did you believe that you'd end up toppling forward because freaking Andy the Asshole would tackle you once more. However, you did expect the whole situation to calm down because you also expected Lucas to reach the blonde before he did anything, but the universe didn't grant you that wish like some genie that was obedient to the one who freed it. The universe was like a traitor to you, though that would mean it was loyal at some point, so it was more of your arch nemesis. It wasn't like you blamed dearest Lucas because you didn't. Instead, you blamed your parents for fucking leaving you, out of all places, in Indiana; you blamed the fucking cashier of War Zone that allowed Jason to purchase the gun; you, especially, blamed yourself for allowing you to get to this point in life. Like, what the hell? Fuck this.

As you fell, the world around you slowly turned into a black void, and, in a way, you welcomed it by closing your eyes shut and cringing as you waited for some sort of impact. It came, but it wasn't what you thought it would be like. The shallow water enveloped you but didn't drench you like you thought it would. It simply welcomed you back as if you belonged there. The thing is, you never really dwelled on the afterlife after becoming used to the risks of being part of the group. But, this wasn't what you expected. It certainly wasn't some solitary room you were just dropped into, and it certainly didn't include that familiar voice that yelled your name in confusion. It was one that you shouldn't be hearing because wasn't this girl in fucking California? Did this bitch die? Now?

"[Y/N]? [Y/N]!" The person screamed with panic clear in their voice, their hands grasping onto your shoulders and shaking. You felt a groan of pain escape your mouth, forcing yourself to roll over in the water and to be met by the one and only Eleven. Why the hell was she bald?

"Where's your... hair? Why... are you... here?" You questioned tiredly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you brought up your hand to feel the top of her head, while the other was moved to support you as you sat up. The pain was finally getting to you; it was like your side was on fire, and spreading up your body made you want to dig yourself a grave and just lay in it.