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El's eyes grazed over every single detail of her room, her hands gently touching the wooden walls that surrounded the room as she believed she may never come back to this place ever again. She was going to miss this place, seeing the world again since a year ago when she and her father left to Maine. El had only one hour until she would have to leave her old home.
She was already packed for her journey. Her orange bag that she used to find Will was laying on her bed filled with her clothes, her father's cigarettes, her important, girly needs, batteries, a flashlight, a lighter, batteries, and lastly her prized supercom. Some things she wanted to bring couldn't fit in her bag, but she didn't really care. "Everything is temporary," Her father had told her one night when she had asked why do things die. "Everything will die sometime in their life." She turned around, sitting on her bed as her bag jumped at the weight.
El was trying to ignore the thoughts of her father because she would be leaving him today. In society, it almost felt like a taboo to leave your home for a journey of horror and fear because her father did not want her to go out into the world, but she had to. She needed to help the boys who were beginning to need her help on their journey in destroying It, that is what she called the monster.
She had never really met It. She knew of him, but had never experienced what Will or Mike had except for when she had seen the balloon. El shivered at the thought of the balloon, seeing the words that her Papa would call her. Her past was horrible before she had met Hopper. She believed that Papa was kind to her and that he was punishing her because she was weak. She pulled up her left sleeve, revealing the number that recognized her past and her identity. She began to think about her life living in that hell hole, filled with torture and terror.
》》》
Eleven did not have the curly hair that she would have years later. It was buzzed to the scalp, not the curls that she once had. She wore only a hospital gown, a white piece of cloth that had blue flowers everywhere and she was cold, of course, but the lab was always cold. It was the only place where she believed was home before she knew what the word was. Her name was the number that was tattooed on her wrist that represented what she was to her Papa and the people around her, shown in perfect sight from her bare, thin arms.
She was a subject, but she never really knew she was because she had known of this place since she had been born. She had talents, her father and papa would tell her, abilities that no normal human could have until she was born. She could find people through her mind, a power that she had used to get out of the lab months later, but she had something more than just finding others. She could snap peoples' necks, throw people to a wall, and could smash people's skulls until their eyes bled out. She was a weapon that was deadly, but she never really knew that. All she was trying to do was to survive. She wanted to leave this place, but she knew she couldn't, not now.
She sat quietly on a metal chair, staring out at the ground as the entire room was cold. It was bare with white painted walls that hid the bricks that could be used as a weapon. A camera had its lens on her while she waited in the cold room, but ignored the sight of it. She had always been watched since she was young and it never really affected her now that she was older. She just sat there in silence, not really knowing what or how to speak words because she had never been taught.
