𝙐𝙇𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙑𝙄𝙊𝙇𝙀𝙏 - 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣

I

CHAPTER ONE
HAWKINS IS A SMALL TOWN, KID
( episode 1: madmax )

❂

MARGE HARPER has misplaced her records.

'Marge!' Violet yells, tossing the unpacked box aside, smashing into the wooden wall with a thud.

She steps over the explosion of freshly unpacked clothes and artefacts, stumbling out into the hallway, boots ploughing down the filthy brown carpet.

Inside the kitchen, Marge was unpacking the last of the chinaware onto the bench. A stick of tobacco was rolling back and forth between her lips, shrivelled hands unravelling sheets of newspaper jammed inside of coffee mugs.

'Where's the box with my records?' Violet asks.

She waits, for no answer, for probably the millionth time this afternoon. 'I've checked all the boxes in our bedrooms three times. All the ones in the garage, all the living room ones, and I've searched the car inside out,'  she elaborates bitterly.

Marge Harper diligently places the mug down on the bench, taking a long draw from her cigarette. You could almost see her frustrations mingle with the cloud of smoke leaving her lips and wafting towards the roof, as though the mere sound of Violet's voice deducted years from her life. The same puckering of cracked lips, the ever so slight tilt of her head, the green eyes slick with mauve eyeliner rolling back for a millisecond.

Then, like most times, she sighs. A gentle, sweet sigh in contradiction to the bitter woman. 'Did you pull the mats up from the car floor, too?'

Violet stares at her coldly. 'Are you being serious right now?'

An old Simon & Garfunkel song continues to crackle through the empty kitchen, with its wooden doors barely situated on their hinges, shards of sunlight beaming onto the yellow countertops. Marge stays in her ignorantly quiet way.