Clean cut American kid ~ Stranger things

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"There's hundreds of us?" I stare with wide eyes out at the field we're on, trying to grasp the truth as it is handed to me. There are hundreds of people like me. I'm not going insane and I'm not alone.

"That's what I'm gathering from this." Hopper nods.

"Why?" I ask and turn to him. He looks tired and defeated. "Why are they doing this?"

"To create weapons I suppose, Imagine how much power they would get from an army of kids with powers like these."

Oh my god. I wasn't in a rehab. I was a fucking test subject, a little rat in a lab. They didn't give a shit about me, they just wanted to use my body. I feel violated. The blood running through my veins is poisoned. They did all of these things to me while I was under heavy influence and without my consent. Or maybe I gave them my consent. I don't remember. Tears well up in my eyes for the hundredth time today. This time I don't try to stop them. They roll down my face. My skin is crawling with this revelation. My body is not my own anymore. That's why they wouldn't let me go.

"But I wasn't born like this." I croak out through a constricted throat and turn to look at the man next to me. "Like Jane."

Hopper drags a hand down his face and sighs deeply. "These experiments started in the late sixties, my guess is that the science progressed. It's a lot more efficient to target the subject directly, instead of the parent and having to wait for a baby to be born and grow up."

It makes sense now. Every gnawing feeling I had about rehab was true. Every time I felt like they weren't telling me something I was right.

"So it's true? You have... abilities?" Hopper stutters out hesitantly. I have a feeling he hopes this isn't real. And I'm right there with him.

"Yeah." I nod. "How did you know?"

"Bradley's big buy." He declares. "Robert called about the crushed doors, and you're on video footage running away from there. But I thought you just threw a rock at them..."

"I didn't mean to break them."

"Is that's what's been happening? You break things?" He asks calmly, as if this isn't the strangest thing he's ever discussed with someone.

"Yeah, when I'm angry or frustrated things break. But it's only happened like three or four times, and all in the last couple of days."

Hopper nods while running his hands over the stubble on his face. He's processing this as much as I am. I look out at the field again. We're at some sort of farm. But there's something wrong with the crops.

"Where are we by the way, and what happened here?" I ask as I look around. It's a pumpkin patch, but there's not a sliver of orange on the field. All the pumpkins are black and rotten, and a thick fog of flies are hovering the dirty ground.

"We're at Merrill's farm." Hopper says. "He called me before Halloween because he thought someone was sabotaging his pumpkin patch, but now I think it might have to do with the upside down."

"What are you going to do?" I ask.

"I'm going to dig up the patch." He pauses and looks over at me. "And you're going to get a grip on your abilities."

I look at him dumbfounded before looking down at my hands. I swallow thickly and fidget with my hands. I don't want to use my abilities. I want to pretend they don't exist.

"I don't know if that's a good idea..." I stutter. "What if the whole field blows up? What if I hurt you? What if I... ever kill someone?"

Hopper reaches over and lays a hand on my shoulder.

"The only way to prevent something like that from happening is for you to learn how to control this, fear is your worst enemy."

With that he opens the car door and gets out of the vehicle. I climb out from the passenger side. The smell reaching my nose is awful. It smells rotten and toxic, and I'm hit with the nausea of a hangover I had forgotten I had. I pull my sweater over my nose and breath in the scent of it. My nostrils struggle to focus on the Farrah Fawcett hairspray embedded in the knit instead of the fumes surrounding me. For once I'm grateful for the amount of hair products Steve uses. There's a hint of someone else's scent in the sweater as well but I don't want to think about him right now.

"Come on," Hopper barks from the middle of the field. He has grabbed a shovel from the trunk of his car and already started digging. I trek myself through the muddy ground. By the time I'm caught up my boots are covered in filth and my thighs are aching. I lean over to look into the hole Hopper has dug up in the ground. It's just regular dirt.

"It's going to take you all night to find something." I say a bit to mockingly because I receive a deathly glare in return. Hopper leans against the shovel and wipes some sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, and ending up streaking himself with grime instead.

"That's why you're with me." He says and and takes a few strides so that I'm between him and the hole. He nudges me forward. "Try to break through it."

I walk a step closer and look at the ground. My stomach is turning with anxiety and nausea. I look back at Hopper. He's studying me closely. Whether that's out of curiosity or caution I can't tell. Will he be afraid of me now? I don't want that.

"Concentrate," Hopper grunts and I snap my head around to look back at the ground. My mind scrambles for the emotions I used when I broke the doors. There were more bottled up feelings then. I don't think I will be able to do something that big again without a trigger.

"You have to upset me," I call over my shoulder without looking back at Hopper. It's eerily quiet for a while as he decides what to say I assume. Without our talking there isn't much sound out here. There's a whisper of wind swirling around the trees surrounding the giant field and a dull buzzing from insects. I can hear my own heart thudding against my rib cage. It's sped up. My hans are clammy even in the chilly air. I think I'm nervous to show someone what I've discovered I can do. It makes it real.

"Do you know how many times I looked for you and wished I wouldn't find you just so that I wouldn't have to deal with you anymore?" Hopper's grim tone cuts through the serenity. "I'm so fed up with your rebellion and if this ability of yours wasn't relevant for my own safety I would've just taken you back to rehab. It was the straightening up you deserved. The damage you've put your family and this town through over the years is something you will never be able to repay. As times goes on more people than myself and your parents will get sick of you, leaving you lonely and miserable. I don't see much more for you than a pathetic ending in a dirty gas station bathroom with a needle in your arm. And that's probably best for everyone."

His abrasive words leaves my chest open and bleeding. The figurative dagger is lodged deep in my heart and the muscle looses its power to provide my body with blood. I'm trembling. I bite harshly on my tongue as I imagine burning a hole in the ground through my blurry vision. A single tear rolls down my cheek and falls when it reaches my chin. It silently connects with the dirt and plants my intention. It's like an earthquake breaking through as the ground dissolves beneath our feet.