Turn me Upside Down

Chapter 11: Light it Up

Despite your insistence on not being here in the first place, Jonathan had entrusted you as their getaway driver just in case. Curse Nancy and her personal resolve to still have hope for revenge. Barbara was dead. It was clear as day. Will still had a chance but Barb was gone with no hope of ever getting her back. She could have been eaten alive for all you knew and Nancy still managed to get up to fight. Drumming your fingers against the steering wheel, you focused on the dark night sky that was barely visible from where you stood.

It had been less than a minute since Jonathan and Nancy jumped out of the car and snuck into the police station for their evidence and tools. The previous overwhelming sadness that prevented you from thinking of anything was slowly seeping away with the night. It could have been your own personal feelings starting to come back or the panic of having to be the getaway driver settling in. You could only hope that Hopper would be able to rope you out of this mess in case they were caught.

Jonathan was the first one back to the car, carrying the box full of the previous hunting supplies while Nancy followed closely behind him with another small box. You turned on the car the moment both of their bodies were inside and stepped on the gas with no warning. With your luck, the police would be your downfall instead of the monster you were supposedly hunting. Jonathan hit the passenger seat but recovered just as quickly as you swerved around the corner.

"So... your place I'm guessing?" you questioned, eyes trained on the road while you clutched the steering wheel. To Nancy, it seemed as though you had grown fearless in that very moment. Managing to drive a car when you told her you never had done so before. It was a white lie you poured out as a poor attempt to not get involved since you had driven a car before. Your father relied on your help while he worked around the neighborhood so there was plenty of practice in your system. Your fear was what drove you out of the station, not your make-believe fearless self. If given the chance, you would have already broken down crying but you needed clear vision to drive through the woods.

Jonathan tensely nodded to you, gripping onto the handle of the door so that your erratic car movement wouldn't make him fly around more. Nancy wanted to speak to you directly to see if there was any way of making you control your movements before crashing the car, but seeing the way your eyes were desolate of any emotion, she kept quiet. No amount of comfort would be correct for the moment. Even she was fighting tears back and replacing that overbearing sadness with the need for revenge.

The brakes screeching under the force you put on them was their cue to get out of the car. You took out the keys calmly, making sure to not actually damage the car since you were still a careful person. Just because you couldn't control your emotions didn't mean that Jonathan had to suffer the consequences of your actions. Throwing the keys at the prepared guy, you took over holding the heavy box and getting into the house with no words. He did nod to make sure you were fine, but you walked right past him to get down to business.

It made sense for the more mentally stable friends of the group to take over the handling of any weapons. It didn't bother you how Nancy and Jonathan seemed to walk around eggshells around you. Their quiet whispers in the background would have been previously nerve wracking but your top priority was still settling back into reality. Besides, there was nothing you had to worry about when it came to them. Nancy and Jonathan were both trusted individuals who you knew would never speak bad about you.

You rubbed your chin, careful of not scrapping the scab off, while sticking thumb tacks into the walls of the house. The Christmas lights that Joyce had hung up were barely working so you were in charge of replacing them as well as adding more. It was a mundane job that bored away any bad memories trying to climb to the forefront of your mind. Instead, you focused on the brown color of the walls that brought you comfort. The couch that still had the indents from where you and Will would sit. The television would most likely be fried with the stories Jonathan told you.