Say Anything | Steve Harrington |

Ch.10 The Funeral

November 10th, 1983
Byers Residence

   The walk back home from the Wheelers was more unnerving than usual. With the thought of a monster on the loose from another dimension hanging over my head, I couldn't help but look over my shoulder at every small sound from inside the woods. When I finally made it to the front porch of my house, it was hard to ignore the very obvious hole in the wall. One that I could only assume had been put there by my mother.

   Ignoring the destroyed wood that now looked into our even more destroyed living room, I pushed open the door to the house to find the Christmas lights still hung from the walls and ceiling and to see that Mom was once again seated on the couch. Though now she was covered in blankets she still somehow shook in her place, with a look edged on her features that I couldn't place; maybe it was worry, but a small part of me knew what it was. Fear.

   "Mama? Mom, what happened?" My tone shook with worry as I quickly made my way to the couch, dropping onto the floor in front of her and bringing her cold hands into my own. Her mouth fell open though nothing came from it as she looked away from the hole in the wall and down to me, eyes practically pleading for me to leave it alone.

   Taking in a deep breath, I looked around the living room, quickly spotting the axe from this morning laying on the floor, as well as a few opened cans of beer. She hasn't even touched beer since...  "Mom, is someone else here?" I asked, as her gaze too fell on the abandoned cans on the coffee table.

   Offering a curt nod, she looked between the hole in the wall and me. "Y- Your father... He's just stopped by for the funeral--" She mumbled, her voice stuttering while her eyes never seemed to reach mine. "Where is he?" My tone was one of indifference but the anger that bubbled inside me was hard to miss. "In your brothers' room..." She droned off, watching as I stood from my place on the floor.

   Nodding, I chewed anxiously on my bottom lip before hurrying down the hall and towards Jonathan's room, "Jonathan wanted to talk to him alone, Nellie." Mom called out from behind me but she knew that would do little to stop me. Pushing open the door of Jonathan's room, my eyes landed on the back of our father as he spoke down to Jonathan. 

   "No, you need to listen to me, okay?" He spoke lowly as he took another step closer to Jonathan who glared up at him. "Your mother is sick, really sick--" Lonnie jabbed a finger into Jonathan's chest, causing my anger to boil over. "Well, you being here, isn't going to help. Is it?" I questioned, pushing his hand away from Jonathan's chest before taking a step between them. "This is a father and son chat, Eleanor." Lonnie stated and glared down at me.

   "Don't talk to her like that. Okay, you being here only makes things worse." Jonathan stated, standing by my side and allowing Lonnie to shift his glare onto Jonathan. "Worse? Are you kidding? She took that wall down with an axe. She said that Will's inside it, that he's talking to her." Lonnie argued against us with a slight grin, as if we didn't realize what was happening around us. 

   "Yeah, well what if he is?" I argued back while Jonathan nodded quickly in agreement, "Yeah, maybe he was." He mumbled with a shrug.

   Chuckling slightly at the two of us, Lonnie shifted his gaze between us. Shaking his head, he ran a tired hand over his face. "Look, kids... This isn't some kind of joke. Your Mom was half frozen to death when I got here. Trembling, scared out of her mind--" "Well aren't you a hero? Showing up at such a convenient time." I tried cutting him off, only for him to stop me with a stern snap of his fingers. "And if you two come in here and start feeding into her hallucinations, or whatever the hell you wanna call it, you're going to push her over the edge."