³𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 ✔

013-in her head

CARLA HAD FORGOTTEN IT WAS THE FOURTH OF JULY.

Usually, the holiday was spent out in town with her family, going to the local fairs, eating candy until she felt sick with Mike and Holly, lying in the middle of the streets to watch fireworks when the day came to a close—Enjoying the summer.

Well, let's just say Carla was doing none of the above, and certainly was not enjoying her summer.

Currently, the Wheeler girl was curled up in a rocking chair within Hopper's remote cabin, where the man had been living with Eleven for the past year.   It was a rather cozy place—definitely better than where the chief had been living—and was rather perfect for the Party—minus Dustin, who she found out also hadn't been seen in a few days, putting more stress on her shoulders—as well as the older teens to re-group after the sauna, as it provided somewhere to relax, as well as a place to work.

It was also empty, which Carla had been informed was due to Hopper being in Illinois with Joyce—why exactly, they hadn't figured it out.   Yet again, nothing had exactly made sense the past few days, so the Party was currently praying that whatever led the adults to the state was worthy of leaving the kids for.

Unlike most Fourth of July's, she'd spent zero time with her family—unless running from possessed people counted as family time.  She hadn't even called her mother, but, what was she supposed to tell Karen? A giant monster and his followers had attacked her and she'd managed to escape? 

Instead, she'd just sat quietly upon the rocking chair, silently replaying the previous night.

Carla had thought herself to be dead a few times before in the past, and it never got easier to think. To think you're about to live your final moments would always be terrifying, yet, every year, she'd find herself in at least one situation to which she'd thought herself a goner, only to survive.  Why?  Why was she surviving these events? Why wasn't she dead.

For someone who wanted her so badly, whoever he was had done a terrible job at taking her, of killing her. 

"It can't be good for her to be in there for this long." Mike's voice took Carla from her thoughts.  He was currently speaking on Eleven, who'd been locked up in her bedroom for a good hour or so, using her mind to find the people who they knew to be possessed—Billy, Bruce, the Holloway's and Mrs. Driscoll."

Max replied, "Mike, you need to relax."

"What if she gets brain damage or something?"

Lucas, who'd only been listening to his friends countless rants, looked up from the cereal box he'd been examining and to his girlfriend. "Oh, shit. Is that, like, a real thing?"

"No, it's not.  He made it up." Max shook her head, sending a look towards the Wheeler boy, who'd taken a stance behind his sister in the rocking chair.  Even though she'd only really known Eleven for a few days, Maxine knew the girl was strong.  She could handle whatever she was doing in her room. "Mike doesn't know what the hell he's talking about."

Mike fired back, "Oh, and you do?"

"No...I—"

Carla gave an eye roll at their argument—Max and Mike had argued every single day of the summer, she's absolutely sure—tilting her head back to see her twin sister, phone to her ear.  The girl had been making call after call to businesses that could be connected, via fertilizer, to the Mind Flayer.

"Uh, yes, from the Hawkins Post." Nancy spoke, pacing back and forth with a notebook and pen in her other hand, "I-I called a couple days ago about the—yes, yes, um....I was just...following up to see if anything else had gone missing, or if—okay.  Um, sorry to bother."