1985 (Jim Hopper II)

The Rat

Hopper takes his cigarette into his fingers and shakes his head.

"Yeah, no."

He says, turning on his heel and heading out of the sauna.

That hurt my feelings so incredibly much. But why did it matter if it hurt my feelings? I clearly hurt his.

I didn't get up to chase him, I just sat there and let the sweat run off of my nose, pulling my hair into a tight pony, and doing my best to hold back any sort of tears.

But then an older gentleman walks in without any trunks on and that definitely meant it was time to go. I blush furiously and jump up, startled, running passed him and out of the sauna. I almost forgot I was in the men's locker room.

I look around at all of the long chairs and notice that Hopper is gone. Of course he is, idiot... but Billy is sitting at a life guards spot, whistle in his mouth, his tongue playing with the metal. He must work here.

I look around for another brief moment and notice that everyone's having a really good time. All of their joyous laughter feels so much different than how I currently felt.

I wasn't up for the pool anymore... so, I left.

I went back to my dads place, sat down on the couch, a blanket over my bathing suit and I did what I spend most of my days doing. Watching tv. Robin would probably smack me upside the head for plummeting back into this rabbit hole but, I couldn't help it.

Hopper hated me. He didn't even ask about my dad, or even know about it. Just... avoided me. Apparently anything that had something to do with me, my last name, like he'd blocked it out all of these years.

"That's what you wanted, Hannah." I talk to myself a lot more lately than I'd realized.

Even saying it out loud didn't stop me from crying.

I'll cry over Hopper, but not my dad? That's beyond fucked up of me. Am I a horrible person? The tears were somewhat comforting, though. Like I'd needed it to happen, just needed something to trigger them. The stress had built up enough, I guess.

Honestly, it was so relieving to finally cry that I could feel myself drifting asleep as my nose gathered most of my sadness, the tip of it dripping.

But I was suddenly woken up to a loud crash, glancing over to the clock quickly to notice it was 9pm. The sun was no longer existent and the tv's volume was still low.

And then, another crash. It sounded as if it were coming from the basement.

Panic started to set in and as much as I wanted to call the police department, I knew it would be a bad idea.

Instead I stood up, slipped on a pair of high rise jeans and grabbed the poker sitting beside the fire place. Each step I took down those old stairs was quiet and gentle, because if this place was being robbed there was no way in hell I planned on dragging attention to myself.

What I came down to see though was more disturbing than alarming.

A big, giant, rabies infested rat.

Part of me wasn't afraid of it but another part of me was because, I didn't know how to catch it. The thing was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, into the shelves, all the while squealing as if it were in pain.

I stood at the bottom step and tossed the poker at it, hitting it some but not enough. It got its attention though, and when it looked over at me I could swear it was beyond sentient or something. It was pissed.

I watch as it shows its teeth to me, hissing before making a run in my direction.

"Shit!" I yell, running up the stairs and slamming the door shut on the damn thing.

It shoved hard against the door repeatedly, the strength of the rat was more than I ever knew was possible. The door was actually hard to hold shut. It wanted out, but after a few more loud screeches, I hear what sounded like a water balloon breaking. A water balloon full of guts, maybe.

As it's intestines trickle out from the crack of the door, I notice a disgusting red and black ooze crawling its way up the wall, and I immediately let go of the doorknob, run out of the house and get into my car. I didn't even lock it.

I wanted so badly to call Hopper, report whatever the fuck just happened but I couldn't even process it, let alone try and process telling my ex about it. He already thought I was crazy, probably. Between the thing with Elliot and now this, even I felt bonkers. Was I?

I turned the car on and drove toward Hoppers old place, parked my car and laid in it with aims to sleep there, in nothing but my bikini and jeans.

The first thing I'd do in the morning was call an exterminator. I need a phone, right? I could use the one at scoops. What the hell are they supposed to exterminate, anyways? Living rat intestines? Even that would sound crazy to anyone who didn't know why I left...

I laid wide awake in the car and looked over to my stereo, noticing a cassette poking out, and, to calm my nerves, I pushed it back in.

"Super trouper beams are gonna blind me but I won't feel blue, like I always do. Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you."

ABBA... always ABBA.

And as the soft voice lulls me, I pull a sweater from my passenger seat over my arms, crawling in back to try and nuzzle into comfort.

But even when I shut my eyes, I still can't tune out that rats screaming, and I can only see Hopper's disappointed face. The grimace, the scowl upon seeing me. He'd put on some weight but his fucking eyes were everything. No matter the anger in them. He still looked like my Hop. So damn good. I missed him so much and just imagined being in his arms, him keeping me safe. He'd be petting my hair, planting kisses on me, all the while telling me that I'm being crazy and that it was just a plain old rat... but he wasn't here. Won't ever be. I wasn't going to get much sleep.