Shutter [Jonathan Byers] Stranger Things I

I: Invisible

in·vis·i·ble

adjective

unable to be seen; not visible to the eye

Bright blue eyes opened, scanned. The surroundings were unfamiliar, the noises that buzzed inside of her head were numbing her senses as she was unable to pin point what had happened. A groan escaped her cut up lips; she tasted the copper, metallic tasting blood upon her tongue and it instinctively darted out to dampen her lips. More blood; she inhaled sharply as she tried to move, but she was leaned forward, her head almost touching the dash. The seatbelt had prevented the collision of her head and the dash, but the force at which she hit the belt broke her sternum. Her heart was beating fast like a rabbits, the excruciating pain rippled through her but all she could do was make a winded noise that resembled a groan.

When her eyes were able to focus, the pain blurry her vision on and off at first, she spotted piercing blue eyes staring at her. Blinking twice, she realized that it was her mother staring back at her. At first she almost smiled; despite the pain she was in, she still had her mother. That small flame that was hope was quickly doused when she realized that her mother was not looking back at her; those eyes were lifeless. Emilia began to register the seriousness of the situation when the crimson blood crept down from the top of her mothers skull, dripping down in slow, molasses-like streams. Emilia couldn't even cry, the pain in her sternum viciously ripping through her. The red and blue lights filled her vision, turning the white snow brilliant purple.

"Miss Roth," the name registered in her mind. Then it came again, "Miss Roth!"

She focused in on her surroundings; it was not a car wreck in a snowy ditch with her mothers cadaver. She was in school. Focus, you moron.

"Miss Roth, can you please explain to me the formula?" Her teacher raised her eyebrow. Emilia opened her mouth, but she only gave off an aloof expression. Her teacher, Mrs. Krasinski, let out an exasperated sigh. "Or perhaps you were too interested in some day dream? Would you care to share it with the class?"

There were snickers around the class room.

Oh yes, the day dream of my mothers corpse staring back at me. I cannot wait to get back to it.

"I have a headache," she lied, squinting her eyes as though it would make it more believable. She wished all she suffered was headaches, but a headache would feel like a dream compared to what she felt every single day. For almost two years she'd suffered from the memories, for almost two years she held on too tightly to the guilt of not forgiving her mother. She had died thinking her daughter hated her for leaving her father; Emilia would never overcome the grief that clung to her like a bad smell.

"If you need to go home, you may," the teacher pointed out, as if Emilia hadn't pondered the idea every day. "But I will be taking away your attendance."

Emilia internally rolled her eyes, but she remained seated. With only one more class of the day, she was now more determined to get through it. Her eyes were locked onto her teachers, they held them there in a challenging way, before she dropped her eyes in defeat. There was no sense in getting into trouble; if remaining invisible for the last eighteen months that she was in high school was her goal, mouthing off to a teacher was not going to be a smart move. She flickered a pseudo-smile that passed off for good enough, and the lesson continued. Emilia didn't disappear in her own mind again for that period.