XXXVI: Dysphoria

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dys·pho·ri·a

noun


a state of unease or generalized dissatisfaction with life.


Emilia woke on an unfamiliar couch with an ache in her neck -she felt as though she were closer to eighty than she was to eighteen. With a semi-dramatic groan, she pulled herself into a seated position, and looked around to get a grasp on where she was. It was not often she woke up confused to where she had fallen asleep, but lately she'd been staying away from home more often than she was there, and wasn't entirely surprised to find herself confused that morning. A glittering sun-illuminating lake greeted her when she turned her head and looked out the window, and that's when she remembered. Reaching her hand up, she ran her fingers through her bed-head hair and groaned again. She had to go to school today, there was no fighting that fact. She'd skipped too much in the last few days, and she looked like crap.

Jim Hopper was not going to have a hair dryer or probably even conditioner because men only used shampoo; Emilia would skip a shower today, and then she would go home. No matter what complications and problems she had with her father, she was smart enough to know that there was no avoiding him forever. Part of her wished he would just kick her out, send her to some foster care system that she would be out of when she turned eighteen. She'd be able to get by; but the situation she was in felt so much worse. She had to continuously go home to a place where she was not wanted, not now and not ever in her life. An accident; but at least she knew that her mother wanted her, and loved her.

"Run, Emilia!"

The words hung in her mind like a bad memory, a bad taste that she was unable to brush away with her finger, as she had no toothbrush here. The dreams of what happened the night before made no sense; how could she have possibly heard Will, how could she have possibly seen a monster, and how could she have possibly stepped into another dimension. But it had happened, Emilia was sure of that now. Maybe she was insane, Emilia could at least admit that, but insane people didn't know they were insane, right? She shook her head and closed her eyes to stop her mind from going in circles.

"Mornin'," Hopper's voice startled Emilia. He had two mugs in his hands, and she had no idea how he'd made and poured coffee in this small house without her noticing.

"Hey," she said dully; it was not that she was unappreciative of Hopper, the very opposite in fact. She was just confused about everything, and wondering how she could face Jonathan when she saw him next and tell him what she'd seen last night. It was best to keep it to herself. She grabbed the mug from Hopper and looked at the coffee. "Sugar?"

"Heaps."

She grinned, "I'll need it to get through today."

"You are going to school, right? I don't have to keep you in the back of the truck to make sure you're not running in the middle of streets all day?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

She laughed, actually, authentically laughed. It was all so crazy, it was all so ridiculous. She was going to go to school, read books and write essays while people were searching for Will and the Byers were desperately waiting for any news. She was going to go back to mundane tasks while there were monsters in the world. "Yeah, I'm going to school. You don't need to worry about me being the miscreant."

He smiled, his eyebrow lowering now. "Take what you want from the kitchen, we'll head out in thirty minutes."

"Yes, Drill Sergeant," she played up the boot camp voice, a half smile on her lips. She'd previously wanted to take the bus, but she wanted to talk to him about Will Byers. When Hopper rolled his eyes and disappeared down the hall, she downed her coffee and folded up the blankets she'd used. Tidying up a little bit, she made her way to the kitchen and grabbed some fruit, savouring the sweetness, appreciating the little things before she lost her mind, or was eaten by a monster. Either option seemed highly unfavourable.

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