A daughter is not a person. She is a wound. 

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Harry stared at her reflection critically, as she adjusted her hair. It always gave her trouble when she wished it wouldn't. The texture made her cringe with its course feel.

Sometimes she wished she could wear her natural hair at school, but it was " distracting to other students," as her middle school principal had told her, disgust rolling of him in waves. She could tell even then he thought himself above her.

With a frown, the girl turned from her mirror. That whole day was awful and she would rather shove it down deep with her to never think of again. She glanced at her clock and shoved her shoes on when she realized it was almost time. Inpatient honking was not what she needed this early in the morning. Jonathan would also be extra cranky because he had been working a late shift the previous night.

As if summoned by the thought, Erica appeared in her doorway. All 4 feet nothing of her looked annoyed as she put her hands on her hips "Your boyfriend is on the phone and he seems upset." The well-repeated sentence, 'He is not my boyfriend', died half out of her mouth as her sister's words registered.

'Wait what?'

Harry ran out of her bedroom with startling speed, slipping past her sister. Why would Jonathan be calling at this time? He should already be driving to pick her up. It was their routine. Why would he mess up their routine? Grabbing the phone off the hallway phone cradle she spoke, "Jonathan, what's going on? Is everything okay?" She knew she should just let him speak but the word just poured out her mouth before she could think. The slight panic in his voice was obvious as he spoke, "Hey Harry, that depends, is Will there?"

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why would Will be at the Sinclair house this early in the morning? The boys usually meet up on the way to school. What was going on? "Um, no, he's not. Sorry," Harry replied, hand tightening around the phone. Something was definitely wrong.

Jonathan cursed under his breath at that. She knew he was grabbing at his hair in frustration. "Will's missing? And you tried the others," the answer obvious before he spoke once more.

"We did. You were the last one. I have no clue where Will is and my mom's getting really worried. She's hoping he just went to school early," disbelief was clear in his voice at that idea.

Harry could feel her heart speed up, thumping harshly against her ribs. It was irrational to assume that the youngest Byers was simply gone. Kids didn't go missing out of nowhere. Not in Hawkins.

"That must be it." Her words seemed brittle to her own ears. " I gotta go, see you at school." If she spoke with enough conviction, maybe it would come true. Will would be okay, he was at school. He had to be.

And yet a deep sense of dread began to fester, stewing in her mind.

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Harry walked through the doors of Hawkins high, shoulders hunched. She could feel her mom's eyes on her from the car, lips almost certainly pursed at her oldest daughter's silent goodbye. The words had just seemed to escape her when she opened her mouth. The feeling of dread was no less present.

The hallway was in a state of slow flux, early students huddled around each other. It was almost comical how predictable Hawkins was. With its pale faces and shiny straw-like hair. Harry stuck out like a sore thumb with her curls and brown skin. So her mother taught her to straighten her hair and style it in a way that made her want to rip it out. She couldn't do anything about her skin so she shrunk herself. Scrubbed away anything that made her stand out until there was only a mask.

Opening her locker, she threw her backpack in, trading it out for the books she needed for her first class. Her locker was sparsely decorated with photos of her friends and family. It used to bring her comfort to see them. The candids showing their true emotions, forever captured in the moment.

A Polaroid of her with her friends at Benny's stared down at her accusingly. The smiling faces felt taunting, happiness a knife to her throat. Sadness dripped into her collecting in her lungs. It would be just like her to drown in herself.

There was something wrong with her. Why couldn't she be like that again? She was the one making her life difficult—a prisoner of her own mind.

'No No No. Itś too early to be having a mental breakdown. Get it together, Sinclair!'

A streak of bright red. easily spotted amongst the sea of browns, blacks, and blondes, caught her eye. The millions of thoughts swirling through her head came to a halt, falling down like snow. Just the sight of her made her brain shut off. She was fire made flesh, spark hidden from those who didn't care to look. She was the smartest girl she knew. She was...

Everything.

Barbra 'Barb" Holland glanced at her, mouth moving as she spoke to Nancy, and Harry could feel the flush under her skin as she met her gaze. Her eyes were sharp with witt and no less beautiful because of it. A pulse of warmth ran through her at the small amount of eye contact.

Okay, maybe things were going to be alright after all.

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Things were NOT alright.

'This has to be the worst day of my high school career'

Okay, that might be exaggerating. The fact was - She was trapped in the girl's bathroom storage closet. People were making out right outside and they didn't seem to be wrapping up. The loud smacking kisses of the couple, filled with passion, audible through the wooden door. It must be nice to have someone you wanted to be that close with.

(Their hands were almost touching, it would be so easy to close the distance. The scent of orange filled her nose-)

The sound of the first warning bell cut through her thoughts before they can fully form. Checking her watch, Harry sighed. Listening to music in solitude before classes was a part of her routine. It helped curve the ever-present weight of simply existing in the small town. Of course, the one thing she found pure solace in had to be ruined.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could take being forced to listen before giving up and walking out, consequences be dammed. Not that she could do such a thing. It would be social suicide—ammunition to be used against her by people who hated her because she dared to be different.

The rumors formed themselves ' Did you hear? Harriet Sinclair is a peeping tom! Sinclair is a freak who likes watching people kiss. She's a d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜y̯̤͑́́̓́k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊, everyone's saying so. Can you believe it In Hawkins of all places?!'

'Nope! Don't go down that road. Think positives! No one is gonna think that. You just have to wait it out, and you'll be fine.'

The kissing seemed to slow, quieting, and the girl perked up. 'Finally! Don't these two need air? Might suffocate on each other's saliva.', thought Harry, a tad bit spitefully. Maybe she was just bitter and unknowable on this front, but air still seemed like a key factor needed to... live.

The muffled conversation of the couple began to filter in through the door's cracks. They spoke in hushed tones, intimate in their cadence. It was a private moment she was intruding on, against her will it may be. She listened for the sound of them leaving, freedom within her grasp.

"Steve! I really need to go." reached her ears as she strained to hear the two through the door. The female voice was familiar It almost sounded like... Nancy? Harry let out a scoff filled with disbelief. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. Nancy Wheeler was making out with a boy in the girl's bathroom before school? And was about to be late for what might be the first time ever (and taking Harry with her at that!).

'This day just keeps getting better and better! I wonder which Steve it is. Maybe Stephan from Chemistry? Or Steven D from English. Not relevant! Focus, Harry! '

A slam ripped her from her thought, the force of it rushing across her. Was that the door? 'Freedom at last!' The closet was quickly becoming cramped as her anxiety pressed into her. A multitude of jokes came to the front of her mind as it sunk in where she was hiding. Forget being a historian, comedian was clearly her true path in life.

She scrambled up, shaking her legs awake, and scooped up her books. Harry opened the door forcefully, eager to finally have open space again. It was unpleasant to be trapped in a small space, memories resurging at the thought. The girl froze mid-step as she made eye contact with Steve Harrington still standing in the bathroom, eyeing her with unmasked confusion and apprehension.

'Shit!'

"Shit."

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Steve had honestly been having a great morning so far. He slipped a note to Nancy and she had actually come! They made out and it was different than all the ones Steve had before. Nancy was different. She made him feel all these emotions he had never felt before. His friends would probably laugh at him for thinking like that but it was true.

It pained him to watch her leave, though the promise of it happening again had him standing in the bathroom with the biggest grin on his face. Sure, he needed to wait anyway before leaving, plausible deniability and all. But just being in her presence left him unable to function.

He blinked, trying to force restart his brain. He didn't care if he was late to class but someone could walk in at any moment and even he couldn't sweet-talk his way out of this one. His good looks only had so much sway with the population of Hawkins High.

Picking up his bag, Steve turned to go but a small sound stopped him, head tilting He eyed the small closet it had originated from with apprehension. Had an animal made its way into the school again? He did not want to fight a raccoon. They were vicious and downright mean.

Look, he could obviously take it on if came down to it. Being captain of multiple sports teams wasn't for the weak. He just didn't want to. Steve wasn't sure what he was expecting to emerge from the closet but a girl wasn't it.

She was frozen mid-step and staring him in the eyes with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. Her eyes were brown, he wasn't sure why that suck out to him, they reminded him of the toffee candies his grandmas used to give him. They were grounding in an odd way, her gaze heavy.

"Shit."

Steve wasn't sure who spoke, thrown off by her sudden appearance. He stared at her in bewilderment as she kicked the closet door closed half-heartily, eyes never leaving him. What the actual fuck.

"Where did you come from," he asked, surprise clear in words.

The girl looked at him like he was stupid. His ears flushed at that. Like she had any right to judge him after walking out of a janitor's closet. Now he was sure they had never spoken. She felt like someone you couldn't forget.

"Narnia," she stated with a sarcastic tint to her voice, lips curled in an almost smile. Steve frowned. "Narnia isn't real."

She tilted her head, "You've read The Chronicles of Narnia?" He crossed his arms in offense. Jeez, he knew people thought he was dumb but he could read. "Yeah, who hasn't? And you still haven't answered my question."

The girl seemed to wilt, arms falling to her side. "I was just hanging out," she paused, maybe realizing how weird her words were before sucking in a large breath before, " n the closet. Eating like 50 M&Ms even though I know they're bad for my teeth. Because it's quiet in there and no one's ever in it. Not even the janitor! I didn't mean to intrude on your kissfest. I'm not a pervert, I swear. Please don't tell anyone," spilled out her like an oil spill, her hands fiddling with the wires attached to her walkman.

An awkward silence penetrated the bathroom as they just stared at each other. Her confidence seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared. He wondered if she was naturally this flip-floppy for half a second before wondering why he cared.

The final warning bell echoed against the walls, the girl's gaze finally leaving him as she jumped. She muttered a curse under her breath before steeling her shoulders. Her eyes were hard, looking him up and down. He almost felt like he was being studied. For someone used to being a predator, zeroing in on weak students, it was unnerving.

She took half a step forward, all the warning she gave before making a run for the door. It surprised him, he didn't think she ran from things. Steve was half a step behind her, crashing out of the bathroom into a surprisingly empty hall.

The girl was gone, all that signified her presence was a half-empty bag of M&Ms on the floor. An unfamiliar but pleasing faint scent lingered in the air. He stood, mouth agape, in the empty hallway like a buffoon.

What. The. Actual. Fuck

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Jae Jabbers: Hey!! I'm extremely happy to finally post this. It took a bit for me to finish it as writers block hit me like a truck. Not much happens here as it's more to set up things to come but I hope yall still enjoy.

Jae out!!