❛ 𝔦 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔦𝔪 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔦'𝔡 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔢. ❜
→ * . & ━━ a girl by the name
of sar, who can walk through dreams, finds
herself drawn to her hometown and into a
bigger m...
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THE OPEN NIGHT WAS DARK AND COLD, AN ICY CHILL WRAPPING ITSELF AROUND SAR'S SKIN. She shivered, blonde hair shifting against her yellow, bloodstained sweater. Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, hands tucked beneath her arms. "You're sure this is going to work?" Sara had followed her father out the back, to the Byers' shed. The forest behind the house was eerie and quiet, and dark shadows cast looming monsters across the grass floor.
Hopper pulled the chord to the light down and it flicked on, bathing the insides of the shed in dim light. Their eyes scanned across the room full of trash and garden equipment. After a moment Hopper nodded. "Yeah, this'll do." He turned back to the small group behind them—Joyce, Mike, Katie and Jonathan—and nodded with the decisive motion of his head. "Clear it," Hopper agreed.
Sara jogged back into the Byers' to grab wads of duct tape and staples. She was clearing out their cupboards, leaving sewing kits and an iron on the carpet behind her. Steve bent down to help her.
She still had a few patches of blood in her hair which smeared across her pale cheeks when she moved quickly. The moonlight was cold and blue and it made their shadows cornflower-blue silhouettes.
Sara's fingers shook as she lay sheets of linen out in front of them. Steve could sense her anxiety from a mile away. "This is gonna work," he assured her. "Will's gonna be okay."
She pursed her lips at him and paused for a moment, hands holding the roll of duct-tape coming to a stop on the ground. For a second she blinked. "I hope so," she said, finding the loose end of the tape. "I don't think I can lose people again."
"But you're so ready to sacrifice yourself at every turn," he said to her, voice low though they were the only ones in the corridor.
Sar swallowed. He doesn't understand everything that happened in there. After a moment she shrugged, wrapping a single arm around herself nonchalantly. "I guess." She thought of Seven's mismatched spattering of freckles, her curved nose and black eyes and hand pulling around Sar's fingers; Lune's smile which showed her pretty teeth, lips soft and split wide.
Steve reached out to touch her arm. "Sar—"
Sara shook her head and waved a quick hand in front of her. "It's okay, Steve," she said. "Really." She thought of Two's pale silver eyes and One's low laughs. She thought of Ten, slim and coughing in her arms. Nine's curved, young face. Of blood on the tiled floors. "I just... just need some air." Sar's fingers shook as stepped away from him, missing his forlorn expression at her actions. The girl practically launched off the ground, taking off in a stumble down the corridor towards the front door. The air felt hot and stuffy inside, getting trapped inside her lungs.
When she threw the door open—uncaring of any demo-dogs that might be lurking for her—the icy air filled her throat. She stumbled forward across the Byers' front porch. Her body fell against one of the veranda poles and Sar wrapped her fingers unsteadily around it. She rested her body against the wood, clinging to the pillar like it was her last lifeline. She stood there for a moment, in the cold night and wind hitting her face, sending her hair flying astray. There was still blood on her cheek.
