Tell Me Something Good

020

Tiny glass shards scrapped at the bottoms of their feet; not completely puncturing the sensitive skin. But they weren't worried about the glass on the carpet, they were more concerned about why his window had gotten busted in. Mike leans his body outside of the now ajar window. Left over pieces of glass catch his shirt and tear a tiny hole. Eleven stands behind him, peering over his shoulder, trying to get a look at the yard below. Their hearts still pound out of their chests in fear. Mike looks to the side of the roof and sees a figure drop to the grass below. Troy—dusts himself off and chuckles with a evil smirk.

"What the hell were you weirdos doing?" Troy says, almost snarling. Mike stays silent. Too flustered to conjure up an answer. James stands next to Troy, laughing at practically anything Troy says.

"Wait till the boys hear about this one—Frog face and his girlfriend doing it!" Both boys fall into hysterics.

"That's not what we were doing!" Mike yells down to them, progressively getting angrier.

"Really Wheeler? Cause it sure looked like it. Hey freak, how small is his dick?" James hits Troys arm in congratulations to his joke. Both boys laugh loudly, but Mike isn't having it.

"Oh yea? Last time I checked, you haven't had any action at all!" James now laughs at Mikes fireback and Troy stands in a defeated furry.

"You're dead Wheeler."

"You're right. I'll be dead before you get any action!" Mike screams from the open window. Eleven covers her mouth to keep herself from laughing. Troy snaps and walks over to the side of the Wheelers house, and begins to climb it. Mike rips a shard of glass out of the window frame and hurls it at Troy. This slows him, but he's still climbing.

"El! Get me the glass!" She begins to pick up the bigger shards first, and hands them to Mike. He takes a fist full and -bullseye- the glass pieces clash right into Troys face. He falls backward off the roof, covering his face. He struggles to stand at first, but James helps him up. They take one last look at Mike, who is holding a raised hand with a large glass shard, and they scurry out of the Wheelers yard. Mike sighs in relief and beings to cover his busted window with a blanked and some pillows. He notices Eleven standing in the center of the room, looking at her hands. Blood trickles down her arms and drips onto Mikes carpet. He rushes over to her and grabs her wrists. Tiny pieces of glass impale her skin, leaving painful, open lacerations; and the bleeding wouldn't stop either. Mike quickly rips out the pieces of glass that he can see. He drags her to the bathroom and places her palms under the water. She screams in agony, but only for a second. They look at each other, both having concern in their faces. Eleven squints in pain when Mike adds soap to her throbbing hands.

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"Hey, don't pick at them." Elevens head shoots up from he hands. Her palms are laced with tiny scratches and holes. She tries to make a fist but she just winces. Mike takes each of her hands in his own, and holds them gently. She smiles at him, but only because she likes holding his hands. She crawls into his lap and curls up. Mike examines one of her hands, and notices another tattoo on her; between her ring and middle finger. In extremely tiny font, it reads:

Hawkins Lab

Mikes eyebrows stitch together and he suddenly feels sick to his stomach.

"Hey El what does—" he stopped when he realized Eleven was asleep. But she looked angry, like she was dreaming something. Mike laid a hand on his head and scowled. They branded her. Like an object. Mike felt a deep anger brew inside him from his toes, up. His blood boiled and bubbled his skin. He let Eleven sleep, but he promised himself to treat her so much better than he already does. He wants her to feel like a person, and not just some toy.

Brenner had it coming to him.

Mike thought to himself. He vowed to never let anyone take advantage of her again, and he meant it with all of his heart.