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𝓢𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮

𝓢𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓷1.𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓮; 𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷:𝓽𝓸 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮.2.𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓱𝓪𝓫𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼, 𝓪𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮; 𝓪𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓽𝔂:𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼.

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The room was dimly lit, the walls shrouded in the haze of smoke, and the pungent scent of marijuana hung in the air. I sat there, alone, surrounded by the haunting melodies of rock 'n' roll, letting the music wash over me. Eddie Munson, a seventeen-year-old rocker in Hawkins, Indiana, leading a life that often felt like a solitary journey.

Shit.

I flicked the lighter, watching the flame dance and flicker before lighting up a joint. The familiar, comforting embrace of the drug wrapped around me, offering a brief escape from the world outside. It was in these moments, when the music blared and the weed burned, that I felt the closest to being truly myself.

Counting the change in my pocket, I couldn't help but reflect on the solitude that had become my constant companion. I'd always been something of a loner, but lately, it seemed as if I was drifting further away from everyone. My band, The Hellhounds, was my refuge, my family, but even that couldn't fill the void that sometimes gnawed at me.

The lyrics from the song blaring from the speakers spoke to me, echoing the sentiment of my isolation. I couldn't help but wonder if this was the calm before the storm, the stillness before some unknown upheaval in my life. My future was as uncertain as the swirling smoke in the room, and the weight of that uncertainty pressed down on me.

As the high took hold, my thoughts swirled and danced like wisps of smoke. I gazed out the window, the world outside cloaked in the darkness of the night. And then, it happened. A sudden, vivid flash of red burst through the window, slicing through the room like a bolt of lightning.

Fear gripped me, my heart pounding in my chest. I had no idea what it meant, and the unknown terrified me. The trip had taken a turn, morphing into a surreal nightmare. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, as if the universe itself was trying to tell me something.

The red flash remained etched in my mind, a haunting vision that refused to fade. I knew, deep down, that it was a harbinger of change, a sign that my world was about to be upended. But what that change would be, I couldn't fathom.

In the midst of the psychedelic haze, I began to see glimpses of the people who had once been a part of my life. Friends who had drifted away, a girl who had broken my heart, and my bandmates, who were now scattered across the town. It was as if the walls of my room had become a canvas, and the memories of my past were painted there in vivid, haunting strokes.

As I sat there, alone in my smoky room, I couldn't help but wonder if I was ready for the storm that loomed on the horizon. The music continued to play, the weed continued to burn, and the red flash continued to haunt my thoughts. My life in Hawkins, Indiana, was about to take an unexpected turn, and I was about to embark on a journey I could never have imagined.

Maybe a journey to death, but who cares?

I like the danger. 

I took another drag from the joint, allowing the smoke to fill my lungs. In the darkness, I closed my eyes and let the music carry me away, the lyrics and melodies intertwining with my thoughts and fears. The storm was coming, and I knew that I would have to face it, but for now, in the cocoon of my room, I let the music and the weed transport me to a place where the future was uncertain, but the present was all I needed.

All I ever wanted.