𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ ²

004

▬▬ 004. 𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡, 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑠.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 and coated the wooden floorboards of her dorm room in sweet morning light. It was a particularly cloudy day today in Chicago, Sunday morning, but somehow the light of the invisible sun was blinding even behind the clouds. The sky was dull, grey, and leaden. It was very quiet in the room, almost too quiet, not a single noise could be heard because almost everyone in the damn building had already left for break— the footsteps from dorms up above were nonexistent. She'd seen them with their suitcases, her peers, waiting for the bus, big bags and tranquil smiles on their faces— exited to be visiting home for the week. Meanwhile, Lori awoke in her dorm room, under her blankets, with a thousand thoughts racing through her head about why she didn't want to visit home like everyone else.

She didn't really see the point to visiting all that well, except for maybe seeing Dustin and her mom. But before she'd left in the summer, Dustin had made a plan to call her every few days, twice a week at the very least— and he'd stuck to that plan as if it were some scared, law-enforced rule. They talked multiple times a week, and even though she wasn't seeing him face-to-face or anything, she still heard his voice and his stupid laugh and his teenage updates. She knew everything up to date about him. She called her mom at the same frequency, but Maureen called, like, almost every day to ask questions like "did you lock the door tonight?" or "what did you make for supper?" because she still wanted to be a mom no matter how far away her daughter was. Lori still felt close to her relatives despite the distance, and that was good for her. It kept her grounded.

So as she sat up in her bed, covers soft against her bare legs, she pondered the question of returning for break. Really, she'd already come to a decision— she wasn't going. But if she happened to change her mind, she remembered the time of the last train out to Indiana, and mentally checked that into place. There was a departure in the afternoon that day— she could get there by nightfall if she really changed her plans. She thought about that, about the train ride as she sat in bed, folding her knees up to her chest.

Squinting from the sun spilling through the curtains, she looked over to the phone across the room, sitting atop the wooden desk. Her heart sunk. Still no call. Nothing. She let out a big sigh, and folded her arms on top of her knees.

Where was Dustin?

Yesterday, after the phone call with her mother, Lori couldn't stop thinking about the murder in Hawkins. She'd thought about it the rest of the day as she went out into town again, frequented her usual coffee shop like any regular Sunday, and as she ate her meals. Somebody was murdered in Hawkins. And Dustin wasn't calling.

Apart from the obvious, she knew something was off. Dustin was sort of a punctual kid when it came to matters important to him— maybe he got that punctuality from Maureen— and that applied to his phone calls with Lori. When Dustin set a time, he set a time. And he never missed a call. He'd never forgotten to call. He wasn't one to skip out on something he insisted on— like the call he was supposed to make yesterday. He'd been so excited when he'd said it, "I'll call you this time tomorrow," and set it in stone. When she came home from the record store yesterday, at the time he was supposed to call— it wasn't him on the phone. It was her mom, talking about a murder in the town he lived in.

Lori had tried to banish the vein of curiosity she'd once been racked by, as soon as she moved away. She'd pushed it away, and that had been working for her since she moved to Chicago. But now, sitting in her dorm room, she felt that familiar, terrible, creeping feeling of curiosity sizzling beneath her skin— in the same way it had when she saw that godforsaken pumpkin patch. She could feel it swimming around in her bones, making its way up to her head where she knew it would start its plague on her mind. She'd gone so long without feeling it, that looming urge to know what was going on, and it sort of made her shiver, now, at the realization that it was back. She wasn't reverting to her old self, was she?