𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 彡 [e. munson] [✔]

─ 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧.

*ೃ༄𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐃

February 5th, 1977

Dear Diary,

It's my birthday in three days! Mom and dad promised to take me ice skating on that day, but I don't think I'm going. Mom talked about how she didn't like crowds and said that ice skating places have too many people. It's sort of weird. Yesterday she was so excited that I was excited about going and today when I mentioned it she didn't like the idea. I'm not mad at her, just confused. I don't like how she changes her mind so fast. So, there's probably not going to be any ice skating, but I know me and dad are still going camping. He never changes his mind about anything. I like that. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight. I'm still so excited about my birthday. I'm turning eleven. That's such a big number and a big deal for me. I can't wait!

1985

Magdalena May couldn't wait. She couldn't wait to go back home, crawl into her bed, and drown herself in her tears. Standing rigidly in the cemetery, her hair and the long onyx shawl were blowing with the soft wind as a no-name priest recited Bible verses into the air. The hole in the ground kept on capturing Magdalena's attention. That hole housed a coffin with her lifeless boyfriend inside it. And no one seemed to care. Not one living, breathing soul. Magdalena harshly swallowed, her throat aching and burning from the previous wailing she'd done before leaving to attend the horribly macabre scene. Nothing about this was right.

For starters, Billy shouldn't have been in such a position. His place wasn't inside a dense wooden coffin. He was supposed to be by Magdalena's side as the two young lovers figured out how the world truly operated. The brunette despised everything about her late boyfriend's funeral. People who weren't even familiar with Billy in a personal way chose to attend just to watch the event like some dramatic, tragic spectacle. It was truly disturbing and highly vexing for Magdalena to have to witness how the people of Hawkins pretended to give a shit. The same could be said for Neil Hargrove when Magdalena finally shifted her green eyes to make eye contact with the constantly bitter military man.

The young girl and Billy's father abhorred each other visibly. First impressions went as the following: Magdalena threw an empty beer bottle at his car after she found out about the mental and physical torment Billy faced at home. Then Neil tried to get her arrested for damaging private property. Though that potential charge fell through because Hopper had an appreciation for the brunette no matter how much of a pain in the ass she was. Magdalena's nostrils flared, her eyes squinting aggressively at Neil Hargrove—the man who never cared for his son as a proper dad should.

Giving the girl an unimpressed expression, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off, dragging Susan and Max with him. His second wife obediently followed like a little lap dog while the redheaded girl was a bit more hesitant to leave her stepbrother's funeral before it was even over and done with. The two girls met each other's eyes and from the middle schooler's point of view, she could clearly see the despondent nature of Magdalena's eyes. The brunette was in the midst of mourning—her heart felt like it was being held together by barbed wire. Magdalena told herself to hold those familiar tears back, but the salty moisture threatened to rush down her cheeks in streams if she didn't get her emotions under control soon. She just couldn't do it. It was painfully difficult.

Max Mayfield—with a heartbroken feeling building in her soul—saw one wayward tear crawl down Magdalena's face all the way down to her chin then disappear as it dropped all the way to the ground. The high schooler was about to gesture for Max to stand beside her, but before she could, the redhead's mother called to her. Before Magdalena could even blink, Max was gone. The green-eyed girl blinked away a few more tears as she felt a hand grab hers then her heart calmed down just a bit when Lulu's sympathetic words entered her ear. Magdalena leaned into her best friend's touch, abruptly placing her head onto Lulu's shoulder and sniffling softly.

She missed Billy so fucking much.

His death haunted her.

February 8th, 1977

Dear Diary,

I'm finally eleven years old today!

Well, not until I blow out the candles on my cake, but my birthday party is almost starting so the cake will be here soon. I was right by the way. There's not going to be any ice skating. Mom got mad when I asked about it today. She told me that she already said no and that I shouldn't have asked again. Dad promised to make it up to me somehow other than taking me camping. I told him we should buy ice cream at the store and eat the whole thing in one day. Eleven-year-olds don't get tummy aches so I know I can do it. And mom won't ever know about it. Oh, and since I'm writing about mom, I have to say something that's been bothering me. She and dad had another fight last night and this morning I saw her writing a letter to someone. I know it's not nice to look through other people's stuff, so I didn't do it. I just wish I did. Maybe she was writing Auntie Flora a letter. Auntie Flora moved to Canada anyways so we don't see her much. I don't think she's visited since I was seven. But it's alright. Auntie Flora brings cool gifts, she's just boring so I can't really talk to her for a long time. But who cares, today isn't about her. It's about me.

And I'm going to have the best day ever!

February 14th, 1977

Dear Diary,

My parents had another fight. Mom said some pretty nasty things to dad. She really hurt him. I think she's been drinking wine. She always gets angry when she drinks wine. Me and dad made a blanket fort in the living room when mom was taking a shower after all her yelling and crying. I really tried my best to cheer dad up. He shouldn't be sad. Especially not on Valentine's Day. I told him stories about what happened to me at school, but he just smiled. Usually, he always says something silly. Not this time though. I wanted to cheer dad up so bad. Secretly, he's always been my favorite parent. He cares about what I have to say. Mom usually tells me to change the subject or just ignores me. I still love her, but not as much as dad. Sometimes I wish mom would appreciate me just as much and that I wouldn't have to fight for her attention. I think she's training me for heartache though. Maybe that's her plan. We'll see. There's school tomorrow so I'm going to sleep now.

1985

There was no way Magdalena was sleeping tonight. The ache in her heart was still very intense and obviously, the five days that had passed since Billy's funeral hadn't solved her problem of losing her boyfriend. Instead of getting well-deserved rest, the brunette was packing her suitcase, ready to set off for New Orleans bright and early in the morning. It would be a fresh start for her—a chance to forget about the horrific sights she'd seen over the summer.

And when she'd come back to Hawkins, that's when she'd have to deal with her unresolved trauma more or less. But Magdalena didn't care. She wanted out. She wanted to leave no matter the cost. Hawkins had wronged her by taking away her favorite boy wrongfully. Magdalena craved revenge but didn't know where to start. Maybe by burning the town to the ground and purging the evil from within. That could be a start. But for now, the brunette could only do one thing: run away.

Far enough to put some distance between herself and Hawkins.