Shutter [Jonathan Byers] Stranger Things I

V: Mesmerize

mes·mer·ize

verb

hold the attention of (someone) to the exclusion of all else or so as to transfix them.

The sun had set and the darkness embraced the forest like an old friend. Above, the black sky began to twinkle with the distant stars, burning bright thousands of lightyears away. The moon hung as a crescent in the sky, a brilliant yellow colour emitting a brightness that lit up enough of the forest that they could walk back to the car with only some trouble. But Emilia didn't want to walk back to the car, she didn't want to go back into real life. The fact that the sun had set and the moon was nigh meant that they day had come to retirement. Emilia felt something wither inside of her at the thought of going back home.

Having a father who paid no mind to her was not the worst part; he had made it very clear through his grieving process of his late wife that he only married her because she'd gotten pregnant with Emilia. Emilia was the blame, the cause of the fall of their relationship. Perhaps if they had been able to go through with the separation and the divorce before she died, it would not have been so heavily weighted upon her shoulders. But her father sought out a scapegoat to blame, and Emilia happened to be in the way when he decided to point a finger. The strain of losing one parent was what broke Emilia down, and the stress of having another wishing she'd never been born made her develop a hard shell around her body.

At first it was not so bad; he avoided her and she was left to wallow in her sadness for as long as she needed. But it was too long, she went too many months and years without having someone to cry with, someone to rest her weary head upon their shoulders and simply accept that she was broken. He grew cold and mean, vicious when he was drunk -this was more often than not these days. More than once she had been in the way of a flying object just as she had been in the way of his blame. He no longer cared about her, he was no longer a father, and barely scraped by as a parent.

Jonathan was watching Emilia; she had put her camera down once the sun had set and just when he had expected her to suggest they head back, she stood there and a flurry of emotions crossed over her face. He wanted to take a photo, but she stood so still that he knew his own movement would disturb her. Wishing he could read her mind, he simply studied as her expression went from a soft, serene one to a worrisome one. There was always something in the back of her mind, it appeared, prodding and poking her from within, something trying to get out. He noticed these things in people. The oddly romantic setting in which they found themselves in would have been perfect in any other situation, and although Jonathan felt something twist inside him forcing up an urge to kiss Emilia, he knew it was not the time. They hardly knew each other -which meant nothing for many in Hawkins High School- and Jonathan wanted something else than to kiss her. He wanted to understand her.

Emilia tuned back into her surroundings and looked at Jonathan, whose eyes dropped quickly to the dark ground below them. Reaching out, she touched his forearm and he looked back up at her, an almost ashamed look in his eyes. The look she gave back to him encouraged him not to be ashamed, that such an emotion was out of place here. He knew that words could be expressed without verbalization, but Emilia had a way of doing it with such ease.

"I think we should head back," Jonathan suggested. "I know these woods, but it's a major tripping hazard to be out in the dark."

That's not the sort of falling I'm afraid of.

"Good idea." Emilia added, and turned around to look at the forest that was between them and the car; it was only a five minute walk to the car, although it would probably take longer in the dark. As they began to walk, she looked over at him every now and then. They were both casting glances at one another, and looking away quickly. "So, why me?"

Jonathan wasn't entirely sure what she meant by the question, and shot her a confused glance that she couldn't see in the dark. Since she said nothing to elaborate, he was on the spot. "Do you know why I take pictures?"

She shook her head, and then remembered that he probably didn't see it. "No."

"Sometimes -I guess being a bit of an outsider does this- I can see things in people that others can't. An emotion or a thought just in their expression, and I can't always remember all of them. The pictures can capture that in ways the mind cannot. And people will look at my pictures and just see a person, but I'll see what they are thinking..."

"What am I thinking?" She asked, seeing the edge of the forest now, a glimmer coming off of the rusty car from the moonlight above. They were that much closer to the end of their time together, and Emilia wanted some answers, something to get her through the night and the next day. She turned and faced him, stopping in her tracks and looking up at him; he stood half a foot taller than her. They were a few inches apart, their camera almost touching at the lenses. They were all that separated them.

"You're hard to read," he admitted, but he wasn't done. "You're always thinking of your mother. I can see it, the way your eyes look sad. You've never recovered from that, but I think you will, given time."

The words struck Emilia; no one had ever talked so openly about her feelings about her mother, everyone else skirted around it. At home her father didn't speak of her, he avoided the topic until it became a forbidden subject within the walls of her small house. At school she knew that she was simply the girl with the dead mother, and that was if anyone even noticed her to begin with. And yet, standing in front of her now was a person who knew what had happened, somehow knew the pain Emilia suffered when it happened, and knew that the pain never had anywhere to go and it bloomed inside of her. It had darkened her insides, made her sour; and yet Jonathan was the first person to think that there was a chance that she could overcome that sadness. It didn't have to be her defining trait anymore.

"You didn't answer my first question," Emilia whispered. It was as if the entire forest around them had grown silent as she asked, knowing that her words would only be soft whispers that caressed the ear.

Why me? Why me? Why me?

He shrugged, but then he found the words. "I guess I saw something in you that echoed what I feel ever day. Loneliness."

She watched his lips form the words, she heard them ring in her ears; all she could do was stand there, absolutely mesmerized with his ability to understand what was beyond others. Something opened up inside of her, something that warmed her limbs and reached even her core. Unblinking, she stared at him until a nervousness caressed his features. Her inability to reply made him self conscious about his words, suddenly worried that he had said the wrong thing. But it was the right thing, she just had no idea how to say that to him.

Say something.

"Tell me I don't have to be alone anymore," her voice was so silent that Jonathan had to strain to hear it, and when he processed her words, they struck him hard.

"You don't have to be alone anymore," he promised her.