PARANORMAL | ❝Nothing is stranger than believing.❞
Cath knows a thing or two about Will Byers. Daphne, on the other hand, knows virtually nothing about Tonya McCarthy. Still, none of that changes the fact that both of them have up and vanished with...
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MONDAY 28th FEBRUARY, 1971
SNOW is the thing Daphne remembers most vividly from the day of her mother's funeral. Since her death, really. On the night she returned home from the hospital — her new sister fighting for her life in an incubator, her mother suddenly gone and her father trying to pick up the pieces — she had caught one of the first snowflakes that fell in her palm. She watched as it melted into a droplet, rolling down her little hands and trickling in an icy cold stream down her arm. On other days, Daphne would have run outside immediately and jumped straight in, making a thousand snow angels in their front yard...
But that night was different. The four year-old was too young to know exactly why things had panned out the way they had. Although, as she sat with her grandmother at the bottom of the stairs in the dark, Daphne knew everything had changed forever.
The funeral on the last day of February, 1971 simply solidified this. Even bundled in thick coats, scarves and her mittens, there was still the insatiable draft that swept through the small chapel. She tried pulling her coat down further over her legs to keep them warm whilst huddled in the pews. Daphne was on the front row, sat between her father and Gramps — the kinder of her grandfathers who had just lost his only daughter. Cath had only just come home from hospital and was still fragile, so remained at home with her paternal grandmother to look after her.
For some reason, Daphne couldn't force herself to cry during the service. She had dangled her feet over the edge of the pews, looking around her as people dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs and stared on glassy-eyed as the pastor droned on. A couple of hymns were sung, some of the more cheery ones which they knew she liked, but even they were butchered in the overhanging grey cloud of a congregation in the church. Daphne made sure she sang her songs as loud as she could, but otherwise found herself drifting off...
It had finally hit her like a brick weight when the burial came around. Slowly as her coffin descended into the hole in the earth, it was almost as if Daphne had suddenly remembered her mother was in there. If it hadn't been for Aunt Peggy pulling her back by the collar of her coat, she might have succeeded in jumping into that hole with her.
For the rest of the burial she'd cried, cried and cried. How was she supposed to reach her mother if she was down there? Who would play submarines with her during bath time, or dance to Ella Fitzgerald with her, or kiss her goodbye before school?
When the family and friends gathered had started to disperse, exchanging messages of condolence and giving half-hearted embraces, Daphne had spotted Thomas standing alone as he stared into the hole in the dirt. She wanted to hold his hand, give him a hug — because at least they would have each other, and Cath — but Gramps had stepped in her way.
