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༉˚*ೃ ᵒ⁷. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃!
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒 in chaos. By the time Carrie walked out of the gym, leaving those two idiot police offers behind, she was bombarded with the shouts of teenagers and a bunch of overrun teachers trying to calm the riot. There was a mass of students that instantly got her caught up in it all when she tried to take a single step. Carrie elbowed her way out of it—a common manner of hers—but looked towards the commotion anyway. Another kid jostled past her, and another, as they ran towards the chaos, which seemed to revolve around one single boy.
"What's going on?" Carrie yelled as a boy ran past her, clearly up to date on whatever was going on. Carrie had been in that damned police interview for too long.
"They found Laura's note!" someone yelled to her, probably not even recognising she was Carrie Annsley in the chaos of it all. Carrie's stomach plunged. Laura. Laura Flannigan? From Carrie's grade. She must have disappeared too. God, too many kids to keep track of. She felt sick—sick to the stomach. Now just thinking about what she'd seen that morning... Shit, she needed to talk to Nancy Wheeler. A bear in the woods? Bullshit. Nancy had to have known that.
Carrie pushed through the manic crowd, elbowing where she had to, until she reached the centre. Different kids were shouting loudly, all towards one tall boy who held up a crumpled note in his hands—the piece of paper smudged with dirt. He swung it around above his head like he was handing out hundred-dollar bills. Someone grabbed it from him—there was a sick bit of excitement about it all—and scanned his eyes across it before another person grasped it for themselves. "In the track of the woods behind her house," Danny Hughs was telling some of the others as the note was passed around. He was talking like it was some kind of detective game: that they'd gotten hold of it before the police had. "It's totally nuts." Carrie kind of wanted to wring his neck.
"Let me see that." Another girl grabbed the note, and then another. It was being passed around like a game. In a way, Carrie understood. All the kids were scared—who would be next?—and they were fascinated by the mystery of it all. Carrie wondered, dully, which ones of them would go missing next.
"What the hell is this?" Steve Harrington's dumb voice came from across the circle, where he squeezed in between Tommy H and Carol. He had that stupid expression on his face that he got whenever he was being judgemental. On his hips rested his hands, and his eyes were scathing. Whether he understood the gravity of the situation, Carrie didn't know; didn't care. Her chest burned. If it hadn't been such a sensitive topic, Carrie would have punched him in the face right there. Fuck Steve Harrington. He rolled his eyes like he was bored—as if it was some kind of gossip—and pushed back out of the crowd with Tommy laughing obnoxiously and Carol grinning her bitchy grin. Never in her life had she want to grab them so badly; shake them up.
