𝙎𝙃𝙀'𝙎 𝘼𝙉 𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇, 𝙈𝙔 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔 𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇.
Diana Blake was who everyone in Hawkins wanted to be or be with. Her family name held power in the town and she wore her popularity like a crown. Until she discovered that her crown was made with...
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THE HOUSE WAS TENSE WHEN SHE ENTERED.The usual silence was replaced with the whisper of Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong.It wouldn't stop and though it's chilling words were familiar and suffocating, Diana could still feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand in anticipation.
Placing her backpack on the ground by the staircase, she headed towards the dining room. The pictures on the wall followed her every move. Younger versions of herself that were frozen in time watched as she headed towards her doom for the thousandth time, almost screaming at her to turn around and hide in her bedroom.
Diana hadn't seen her father in three days. It was the middle of the semester and grading his students' papers took up most of his time so he chose to save commute time by sleeping in is office on Purdue's campus. She once asked him why he didn't delegate the task to his team of teacher assistants but he just shook his head and dismissed her with a turned cheek.
He was sitting at the head of the dining table. Diana couldn't help but spot the differences of his usual appearance. His hair was starting to curl at the ends from the lack of a hair cut and his jaw was littered with stubble. He looked tired, but that's what happens when someone has a tiresome job she supposed.
Sitting in the chair next to him was Allison. She was as still as a statue. Back straight, head down, eyes forward. She looked nervous, almost as if she were waiting for something bad to happen. Her gaze lifted when Diana entered the room and she sent her a reassuring smile.
The whispering got louder.
Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.
Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.
Diana nodded as an unspoken agreement passed between them. It seemed that the only time they truly got along was when their father was home.
She walked further into the dining room, passing the door that connected it to the living room. The T.V. was playing and her mother laid on the couch with a wine glass nearby. From where she stood she couldn't tell if her mom was passed out or not, though it wouldn't surprise her if she was. She always drank more when Marco was around.
"You're late," James whispered as Diana walked by. He was standing at the kitchen counter with a coke can in hand.
She said nothing as she pulled out her usual chair. Her siblings shared a worried glance.
"Nice of you to join us," Marco snidely remarked. He didn't look up from the food he was cutting. "You almost missed dinner."
Diana could feel his fiery anger burning into her skin when he looked up at her. Her father had a way making his children feel small no matter what age, evident by the way each one was deathly silent. He was disappointed and she knew it.
