Will
Will Byers stood in front of the school bathroom mirrors, though only few tears were shed the whites of his eyes were shockingly scarlet, looking gruesome against his pale face. It was only now that he realised the dark shadows under his eyes, the trail that the sleepless nights had left behind, so evident that they were slightly risen, showing just how tired the young boy was. Wills left shoulder had retired to a dull throbbing ache from where the locker door had cut it, he could feel the warmth of blood sticking to his shoulder, though he knew it wasn't dry, the wound was still bleeding.
You could not see the blood upon Wills clothes as it had not- not get- seeped through to above the thick padding of his coat. He knew he must do something to stop the bleeding for he could not come home to his mother, or greet his brother (who was surely waiting worried out front of the school by now) with the red of his blood staining his clothes. He had to hide it.
Will looked towards the door momentarily before slipping his bag of, a sensation of something near to relief washing over him as the pressure was removed, though his bag held little weight as there were only few textbooks in there, and took of his coat also. He then, regrettably, looked up towards the mirror and was met by the image of his whole left shoulder on his shirt coated with a dark red liquid, that was slowly reaching towards his left sleeve. Barely thinking he threw the shirt off and chucked it in the sink, the water droplets mingling with the blood forming pink swirls in the basin.
Will looked at the wound that was just visible from one of the straps of his vest. It was a thin line, it looked shallow but Will knew it wasn't, for the bleeding was very slow, and had just stopped, just about.
Will Byers knew how to address wounds, not sufficiently but he knew some things, like how to stop the bleeding, how to dress a wound and how to wrap one. He had seen a survival hand guid lying around in his brothers room one day and decided to look through it, the medical section was all he had a chance to view before his father had removed it from his possession claiming that reading would turn him into a fag so he better not do it.
The cut was painful, yes, but Will had endured worse pain.
Staring pitifully at his shoulder that was now wrapped in toilet paper, he picked up his shirt from the sink then carefully folded it and shoved it in his bag, sliding his coat on then wincing as his bag strap met his shoulder yet again.
Will Byers walked out of there bathroom, thinking up excuses that weren't too extravagant to tell Johnathan, settling on his teacher wanted to explain the time table to him after school, he stuffed his hands in his pockets when he was met with the doors to exit the building. Not to protect them from the cold, but to conceal their shaking.
•••
"Will! Where were you buddy? I've been waiting!" Johnathan's voice called across the parking lot. He was leaned up against his car, but when he had seen his younger brother he stood straight. Wills fists clenched in his pockets, lie.
"My teacher needed to speak to me."
"For twenty five minutes?"
"We lost track of time- also I had to get changed from Gym Class and go to the bathroom."
"Oh ok." He said nodding in understanding, the worried expression leaving his face momentarily before he asked again, "How was your first day?"
"It was good."
Johnathan opened the car door for him uttering and simple 'cool' before walking to his side of the car and getting in.
Unlike Mike Wheeler, Will Byers was a fantastic liar.
•••
