The next morning I wake up to a different nightmare. It jerks me up into a sitting position and has me gasping for air. My mind races
as I recall the immediate after shock of the dream. It's clear in my mind, the whole thing.

I wasn't running this time. This time I was stationary, standing on the spot. I was waiting for something, something I knew would put me in danger. I wasn't supposed to be waiting for it, I was supposed to be running. But I was curious. It came, a dark force, it came and it consumed me. It was inside me, it was everywhere. It made me think bad thoughts, and it made me feel more hopeless than I have ever before.

The dream quickly rushes from my mind, and I let it, focusing instead on the fact that I didn't scream this time. I didn't have the same dream I always do.

I don't know if that's as good of a thing as I'm making it out to be, but maybe this means that I won't have that dream again. Maybe that means Steve won't have to come into my room every morning to comfort me.

My alarm clock reads 6:04, and I throw my covers off my legs and place my feet on the cold hardwood floor. My room is covered in dirty clothes that I need to throw in the laundry, but I manage to find a clean t-shirt and some sweatpants to wear for today. I head to the bathroom and force a brush through my   curly-ish morning hair.

The house is once again silent, but that's mostly because my dad's on another trip. Usually when he gets back is when I get hurt, because it seems that something at work always makes him angry. At least he's not here in the mornings right now. Usually it starts him off to a happier day when he messes with us in the morning. Sometimes that means that we get a break after school and he is content enough to leave us be. But sometimes it means we get double if something at work ticks him off and he has no one to take it out on.

Finishing up in the bathroom, I flip the light switch off and head downstairs, making a beeline for the fridge. I take out an apple and eat it quickly, finishing some math homework I forgot to do. My hair hangs over my face and I push it behind my ears, tossing my apple core across the room right into the garbage can.

We're doing basketball in gym right now, and since my leg is completely healed, I've been able to participate. I never knew how much I enjoyed sports. I know I love running, so I suppose it makes sense that basketball tickles my fancy. There's a street court in a park a block down from my house, and Steve and I go there sometimes to do one on one. He almost always beats me, but I'm getting better.

I hear movement upstairs, frantic, heavy footsteps and crashing doors. Steve comes bounding down the stairs, and makes eye contact with me.

"What are you doing down here?" He says, his hair messy from sleep.

"I had a different nightmare, a less scary one."

Half of my statement is true. I did in fact, have a different nightmare, but it was much scarier, because it seems possible. When I had my Demogorgon dream, I knew that it was only PTSD, I know that the events of my mind can't really happen.

But with this dream, and after seeing that . . . thing last night, I have no doubt that what happened is one hundred percent possible.

"I . . . didn't hear you." He mutters, rubbing his eyes.

"There was nothing to hear, I'm fine."

"Okay . . . " He trails off and trudges back up the stairs as I run a hand through my hair. It seems like the bags under my eyes are becoming permanent, as I'm always tired. It's weird to think that it's been so long since I travelled through another dimension. It feels like it was all a dream, but I know that's not true. A dream wouldn't give me a broken leg and eleven months of PTSD.

Eleven. That seems like more than just a number to me now. Obviously it's more than just a number. Eleven is a girl with superpowers, who saved us. She saved all of us from that monster. The Demogorgon.

Mike still isn't the same. He's distant, always on the channel that he thinks will be able to connect to Eleven. There are times when we'll be laughing, and having a lot of fun, and he'll look all right. He'll look like he's forgotten for a split second about her. But then you see realization hit him, and his eyes will glass over, like he knows that Eleven should be here laughing with us.

It's like to him, happiness is an emotion, but it can't be a lasting emotion. Sadness is his default, it's what happens when he realizes that happiness won't last forever. He can't enjoy the moment as much anymore, because he keeps thinking ahead, about how the moment will end and he'll be sad again.

We all try to comfort him without actually discussing it, but he believes she's still out there. When Lucas, Dustin, and I are alone, we talk about it without Mike. They don't think she's still out there, and I know it's a stretch, but from what I've heard, she disappeared, she didn't die.

There's usually a possibility, but I have to keep my thoughts inside, because I don't want to side with Mike and give him false hope.

I stand up from the table and grab a scrap piece of paper and a pen, my hair hanging over my face as I write.

Steve.
I'm biking to school today. I'll be fine.

I put it on the kitchen table and grab my walkie talkie, stuffing it into my backpack along with a few other essentials. My unfinished math homework sits on the table, and I sigh, stuffing it into my bag too. I've been behind on math, distracted by the thoughts that haunt me. I try to keep up, but I overthink things and quite frankly just don't understand the wonder that is eighth grade algebra.

My teacher is on my back, and I know Steve would be useless to ask for help. I try to figure it out on my own, sometimes asking Lucas or Mike or Will. Whenever I ask Dustin we always get distracted. Twice we've started a water fight in the middle of an equation, three times we went to play basketball, and once we raced on our bikes to the Arcade.

I love Dustin, I really do, but he's the last thing I need when it comes to a tutor.

As I ride on my bike, I enjoy the fresh air, thanking god that my leg has healed. Riding with Steve was fun, but I'm happy it's over. Most of my injuries are healed, except of course the scars. The deeper ones are on my chest, crisscrossing around my neck as well. The less noticeable ones are on my arms, they've turned a white colour and are more faded and light.

I drive past the police station, making eye contact with Hopper like I usually do. I wave at him, but gasp as I almost lose control of my bike and go swerving across the sidewalk. I look back just in time to see the cop shaking his head in exasperation, and I grin, continuing on to my school. I've left early, as I want time to work on my homework when I get to school. Mrs. Jefferson will freak if she finds out I didn't do it again.

I walk my bike into the loops and sit down on the grass beside it, pulling out my math sheets.

My brain begins to shift uncomfortably as I look at my first equation.

-5-(15y-1)=2(7y-16)-y

I groan loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads to stare at me critically. None of this makes sense to me. I look in the textbook and reread the methods to solve this equation.

"Expand?" I mumble, "What the hell is expanding?"

I stare at the textbook in confusion, scratching my head and feeling lost.

"Liz!" My head snaps up and I smile as Lucas, Dustin, Mike and Will come up to me. Will reads my equation.

"That's easy."

"Is not!"

"Is too." He says, pointing at it, "You just have to expand it dummy."

I groan and flop down on the grass, running a dramatic hand down my face.

"Oh Liz." Lucas shakes his head and sighs, "Stop being so dramatic. Here I'll help you."

He shows me how to expand, and move the numbers to opposite sides of the equals sign. I zone out as he talks, and he slaps my head.

"Liz! Are you even listening to me?"

I begin to respond, but am interrupted by a low rumbling sound. At first I think it's my stomach, but then it increases in volume, and a blue Chevrolet Camaro pulls into the school parking lot, turning almost everyone's head.

I try to see through the driver's window, but am blinded by the sun, forcing me to wait as the car parks itself in two lots.

The engine dies, and I stand up, stuffing my homework into my bag all the while not taking my eyes off the car. What can I say? I'm curious. I walk closer and shade my eyes from the sun as a boy about Steve's age gets out of the car. Girls from my brother's class stare, but I look at the red head that gets out of the passenger side. She goes unnoticed, because everyone's staring at her brother, but I don't miss her skateboarding away.

"Liz come on we're gonna be late." Dustin grabs my arm and drags me to the school as I stumble behind him.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Halo my friends.

Another chapter woo hoo. Yay. Anyways, tell me if you see any mistakes. Comment, vote, all that shtuff.