IV. Steve and V

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FOUR. STEVE AND V
HAWKINS, 1983

Dear Steve, well, I'm going to be honest, I'm not writing this for you

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Dear Steve,
well, I'm going to be honest, I'm not writing this for you. I'm not writing this for anyone, I'm writing it for me. But, I'll just say your name so this feels real for me.

I hate this fucking baby.

I don't know why I had her. I think it was some kind of I don't know what I've done with my life and I want to create hell type of thing for everyone else around me.. But it's a child. It's on me. Not other people. This is so different from what was circling in my head. Clearly. My mom watches her more than I do, but my mom claimed to have left my town a few days ago and I've already gotten the call that she's back in a cell. I also dropped out of college, figures. I do wonder what Harvard would've been like from time to time.

So, it's just me and Violet and drugs.

Violet in which I hate. Violet in which reminds me of Steve. Violet in which never shuts up. Violet in which is obsessed with this stupid stuffed bear that looks like shit. Violet in which makes me wish I was dead.

I hate being a mother. I hate being her mother. In all honesty, I wouldn't even call me a mother.

I'm just a girl with some baby who looks a lot like me.

I made the decision I'll head back to Hawkins, I won't stay long, but I'll place Violet at a decent safety net.

I know Steve isn't the greatest choice, he definitely can't take care of a child anymore than I can. But I know he'd get better at it, because when Steve gets defensive over something—it's hell.

So, Violet should be okay. I was for a while when I was with him.

I would've been even better if I stayed with him. I know that now, and it bothers the fuck out of me.









































     
His alarm clock is the devil in disguise.

The second it blares, Violet blares at the startle. And Steve is nearly tripping out of bed as he hushes the machine and races towards the edge of his room. The sheets were tangled with his limbs. Violet kicks and cries. His heart is pounding at all the noises already; it's six thirty. Monday, first day of senior year. Fuck.

"Alright.. Okay, here we go." Steve is quick to cradle the girl as he flicks on his bathroom light. It makes his room a bit brighter. "I know it's early, sorry.." He snatches up clothes in one hand, and places Violet on the ground with the stolen stuffed bear from Lowen's trailer that doesn't look too put together, but Violet loves it.

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