𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

Prologue

3rd person 

The Ford Mustang speeds through the roads of Hawkins, sending a summer breeze into the car, blowing pieces of hair away from Hayden's face. He sticks his hand out the window enjoying the breeze and his music that was playing through his headphones. 

Every time the car passed little stores or neighborhoods, Hayden would catch sights of teens laughing, pushing each other around, or just have a good time with there friends. Hayden was always the kid that didn't have any friends, to scared to go up and talk with people. Hayden already new his outcome would be in high school. He didn't see the point of intending high school anyways but he had to make his mom proud. His mom was the only friend he had, and he didn't want to lose her. 

The car hits a speed bump, jolting Hayden out of his thick skull. He looks to the front seeing his grandparents talking and laughing. He remembers he was here visiting his dad's side of the family but mostly his dad. Since his dad is in his death bed, trying to stay alive for the people he loves. Hayden didn't really remember his dad to well after him and Hayden mom's divorce, Hayden staying with his mom and Noah-Hayden dad's name-went back to Hawkins. He kind of wish his real dad stayed with his mom because Hayden can't stand his step-dad James. James is so full of himself, always has to have every ones attention on him, and doesn't respect others. Hayden doesn't know what his mom sees in him and don't let Hayden even get started on his step-sister.  

He turns away from the view of his grandparents and closes his eyes, being consumed into the song that was playing. 

Hayden's Perspective 

I had my eyes closed, listening to Ego, sang by Kim Wilde. I was introduce to her in 82' in a grocery store looking for stuff my mom needed. Her song Kids In America started playing through the loud speakers. I stopped what I was doing and started listening to the song. Getting consumed just like this one. A store lady was walking down my aisle singing quietly to it. I felt embarrassed wanting to ask about the song but if I didn't ask, I would be mad at myself not asking about it and having a hard time finding it. I got up from my crouch and went to the lady, asking about the song. She was a sweet person, happy someone was asking about the song. I got the name and here we are, still afraid of talking to people but gets to listen to a great singer.  

I smiled, opening my eyes and looking at the ceiling of the car. My head started wondering when this car ride will be over but looks like it will not be for awhile longer. My song was coming to end, quieting down and letting a new voice come through. But not Wilde, my grandmother, Dorothea. I look down and look towards her, turning off my Walkman and taking off my headphones, putting them around my neck. 

"Sorry," I said. 

"No worries, just wondering how you doing back there. Your a little quiet," She said, smiling a warm smile. 

"Good, just need a little stretch, that's all," I replied, receiving a nod from her. 

"Well, don't worry, you won't have to wait long, were almost there," my grandpa said, looking at me through the review mirror. I nod to him and him turning back onto the road. 

"Well kid, you grown up so fast, last time I remember you were up to my waist. Now your an inch taller then me," said Dorothea, chuckling a little. 

"Yup. Time sure flies fast like a snap of a finger," I said, smiling at her. 

"So, how has you and your mom doing?" She ask, turning back around to the road. 

"Uh we're good, my mom remarried and I have a step-sister, which I hate," I said, whispering the last part. 

"That's good to hear, do you like your step-dad?" She asked. 

"Meh yeah he's good," I said. 

"That's good to hear," she said, ending the conversation. 

I put my headphones back on and turn my Walkman on. 

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Hayden's Perspective

The car pulls up into the driveway of an small one-story house. I gather my stuff, putting away my sketch book and pencils and cassettes. I zip-up my backpack and put it over my shoulders. I walk out the car, getting some of my bags. 

"No, no, I can take them son," My grandpa said, taking them away from my hands and leaving. 

"Thank you," I said, watching him leave. 

I look to the house. The house was giving off cozy and warm feelings, the yellow painting on the house giving off the warm feelings. There was variety of colorful flowers growing in white pots and a large tree with an tire swing hanging from it. 

"I could get use to this," I told myself. But an anxious pit in my stomach was growing. I'm nervous of meeting my father again and mostly seeing my cousin again. I started taking deep breaths and letting the air feel me up and push my anxiety out. My grandpa, Reggie, comes besides me putting an hand on my shoulder, comforting me. 

"Hey, son, it's okay take deep breaths, your safe," he said, reassuring me. 

"Thank you, " I said, calming down and turning to face him. 

"Your welcome. Where you thinking about your dad?" He asked. 

"Yeah, just a little nervous that's all," I said. 

"Well just remember, he is going to be happy to see you, and he will never hate you," he said. I nod and smile. 

"Well gets some rest. Welcome to Hawkins kid," he said, patting my back and walking to the entrance of the house. 

"Yup. Welcome to Hawkins," I said, sighing and walking in too.