TW; Childhood abuse.

Running. Running.

Melissa ran as fast as her legs could take her. He was coming to finish what he had started. He wouldn't stop. There was no chance of out running him but it never halted her efforts to.

Forest ambiance's fell in an unease silence, fog rolls towards syncopation to her. " I know you are out there. I can hear you, Come out, Henry." She released a half-suppressed laugh pushing her hair to the side.

Twigs breaking one meter to her left made Melissa turn staring directly in the abyss, and there he stood. Blonde, flexible, loose polished hair stuck out under from moon beams. Intense pale blue eyes ever so briefly dancing in mischievous intent.

"  it appears to me I have caught you. Now, what will become of your self, I have found you. Is the question. Hmm."

Melissa, all but age sixteen, chuckles. Nothing there's to be nervous about when it came to fooling around with Henry. " I don't know, You tell me. I did last a good half an hour before you caught me. That is a new record."

Henry Creel is Melissa's at most the first boy she could call her friend. Her first day of meeting him was after she had an 'accident', her dad had become violent, escaping in to the forest. Drunk. Resorting to lacerating her arm using an old, opened broken used beer bottle. Wanting to shield herself from his alcoholic rage. Leaving a bruise on her eye lid as 'Punishment'. Henry hums, pretending to think thoroughly of her 'reward.', he drums a finger on his face.

" For your new record, my dear. I shall grant you the favour of choice. I still give you the offer to come with me. Not that I need to mention what I am specifying."

'There it is again. His riddles. I don't understand what he is implying.' Melissa pushes Henry's chest, all but playful. " There you go again, 'ry. What is this thing, you keep on trying to coax me, with wanting to join you? Huh? I'm smart. But your mind puzzles are hard to solve." She mocks, then notices how he had paused his walking. His emanation significantly increases to a degree a darkness ensnares her mind. Hand slacking to her side, Melissa uses her head to pointedly look towards Henry needing to use an angle.

" I haven't been entirely honest in our .. relationship. Melissa. Friendship. There are.. many of secrets I conceal which I fear you'll find horrendous. But I feel you deserve the truth. I'm not human. Or.. real."

'What does he mean not real. Of course he is. I can see him, right here.' Melissa's laugh echo and bounces in the air. A beautiful sound to Henry, as this would ruin the foundation on what he has build for two years and counting.

" Don't be ridiculous, 'Ry. You're as human as I am. Right. W.. why are you staring at me.. like that. Henry. W..what are you doing..."

she falters how she talks, just when he starts to skulks using precision. " Henry." Her face morphs to horror and genuine fear. His voice distorts. Eyes a blank canvas of emotion. " You need to wake up, Melissa. you need to remember and not forget. I'm out there. And i am waiting on you to find me. That way I can take you where you belong. With me. WAKE UP."

Terrified cries strangled out of her lips.

Melissa startles awake, out of breath, panting. Her eyes darting over the interior walls of her bed room. It was just a dream. But however it felt prevalent, real. A memory she had left out of her mind. No it couldn't be. Dread fills her heart causing the strings connected to the internal organ, and muscle, to contract.

" it.. it was just a dream. Just a dream. That is all it is, Milly."

A stench of musk fire wood after shave violates her nostrils, she feels her body to see chief hoppers police puffer coat giving her a sense of security. Comfort. She sniffs the cologne and inhales those remaining particles of his scent. It was her favourite smell. " I should really get out of bed. Otherwise I am just going to continue smelling his jacket. I'm starving."

She said to no one, gliding out of her bed. Not to bother removing Hopper's jacket. Joyce, blank eyes focusing on will's photograph, cigarette lit in her prominent finger hears her girls foot steps on her carpet flooring.

Still she wore hoppers piece of clothing but does not feel the need to comment.

Jonathan had made eggs, scrambled, breakfast sausage and fresh poured orange juice. A good source of protein for a new day. Still no sight of will. " What? No, be careful of the poster."

Joyce says, managing a small smile for Melissa feeling a planted kiss on her cheek. No matter what she felt nothing would change how her girls morning routine goes, and made her feel a sense of accomplishment at raising a child to express her emotions through acts of love. Like a kiss on the cheek. " I can't eat." Joyce sighs.

" Mom. Please, y.. you need to at least have a bite of the eggs. It's a good source of energy. Don't starve yourself." Melissa pleads to her mom, the fork in her hand clattering down on the ceramic plate. " Listen, you two. The... the Xerox place opens in thirty minutes. I don't want you, or you Melissa, to go alone. So.. so I am going to have Karen take you. and.. and Claudia, she will go in town with you to your store, Milly. sweetie. Cause I should be here."

Melissa had lost her appetite, from the feeling of focusing on her mother, commendable sympathy rising. " Mom. I.." Milly didn't want any disagreements, on her end, while Joyce was in distress. Her mom's mental health is fragile enough.

" We need to make, what, two hundred, three hundred copies of.. of these. How much is a copy." It wasn't she didn't trust the town, hell— she knew everyone in Hawkins. Small town living. It's just Joyce couldn't bring herself to take a risk of her losing another of her children. " Ten cents. I.. if we.. ten cents.."

Jonathan, though using his patient, tries not to be too harsh talking to Joyce. " Mom. Please.. you.. cant get like this, okay." He looks around towards Melissa, his sister, for guidance. She had a way with using her words. He casts a flick of his head asking for help. " Mommy. I can see just how much this is affecting you, it's hurting me. J.. Jonathan, too. We hate seeing you in distress. It's okay to feel this way. But we need our mom, right now, okay." Melissa claims, validating her mother's affliction she is having. Joyce nods, morosely. Then came the knock she had waited six hours before hand on scuttling out of her table chair. Milly follows.

" We've been waiting six hours." Joyce answers the door, to Jim on the other side of it, Not giving him time to respond. He grunts. Though his enthusiasm improves significantly on Milly wearing his coat in spite of giving it to her last night previously. " I know. I came as soon as I could." Melissa could narrowly form an actual thought under Jim's scrutinised eyes.

She had became vaguely self-aware, for the jacket she knew she's wearing, covered her gym shorts to create an appearance of not wearing nothing. It was enough to a point Melissa tugs on the hem of the coat. " Six hours." Joyce accuses, arms folded over her chest; anxiously standing beside her daughter.

" A little bit of trust, all right? We've been searching all night. Went all the way to Carters Ville."

The neighbouring county outside the city limits. 'That is quite far. how could will go those miles out of town. It Doesn't any sense.' Jim could see the wheels turning in Milly's brain. Joyce, dreading the answer, asks.

" And? Did you find anything?"

Hopper is honest. It was one trait Melissa respected in people. Honesty and morality.

" No. Nothing." Melissa allows her mother to have her time to take in Jim's statement. Milly, though, offers her hand for Joyce to hold. " Flo says you got a phone call? Would you mind specifying on that..?".

The rotor phone short circuit, electrocuting her, claiming Will had called the phone. His breathing could be heard. Melissa believes her mom. She could feel he is alive. That is what she is leading with to maintain a sense of peace.

Jim inspects the charred, mustard, mounted phone disconnected on the diamond engraved paper wall. He hums, whistling.

" storm barbecued this pretty good."

No storm Milly experience could explode a phone. " I don't think it was a storm, which cause that, though, Jim. I find that hard to believe. I'm sorry." Melissa critics, staring in thought at the burned phone in hoppers hand.

" you're saying that.. that's not weird?" Joyce splatters out, still processing the disbelief of her home phone bursting in flames. " No. it's weird." Jim puts it simple jamming the phone back in place, triggering a dial note. Rotary phones don't just combust. There's an inherent problem there. Something caused it.

" Can we, like, I don't know trace the call? Contact the.." Jonathan, wanting answers, goes on to say but him stops his talking.

" No. it doesn't go, of work, that way. Now, uh, you're sure it was will?" Hopper asks, resting a shoulder on the space beside the deactivated land line phone. Melissa had caught herself admiring his beard, wanting to caress the rough edges of those hairs that grew. He stood close to her. " Because Flo said you just heard some b..breathing. I just want to be for certain here." Joyce, strongly, states.

" No. it was him. It was will. And... he was scared. Then something... and..." Jonathan comforts his mom, Jim disliked having to follow the rules, of procedural questions, but if he wants to have a chance finding will he needed leads. " It was probably a prank call. It was someone trying to scare you." Melissa steps closer to her mom, placing one of her arms around Joyce's body.

" Who would do that?" Asks Jonathan, in disgust at the sick sense of humour kids these would have. Why do this to a grieving family?

" Well, this thing has been on TV. It brings out all the Crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh.." Milly loathed people who played with other families tragedies. 'Assholes. Honest to god.' Jim hums.

" No, hopper, it was not a prank. It was him."

" Mommy." Melissa, gently, claims. " please."

" Joyce." Jim wanted Joyce to know he was there to help but needed her cooperation to get the information he needs. " Come on. How about a little trust here? You think I'm... I am making this up?" Hopper spares a Quick Look to Milly, wanting her assistance. She knows her mom more than anyone and how to calm her down. " I'm not saying you are making this up. All I am saying is this is an emotional time for you. For mills. Jonathan."

Milly does a tiny faint smile. Joyce begins to sob, having a tight hold on her. " and.. you.. you think I don't know my own son's breathing? Wouldn't you know your own daughters..?" Melissa's face pales. 'Daughter?' Of course Jim hopper has a child, but from his aggrieved, fallen features it was a sore issues of concern. " your d..daughter. Jim.. I.." Milly's expression wish to ask further but knew how it would push boundaries that were not meant to be broken. Hopper wanders off to a few steps away, gripping tight his fedora. Keeping some space and a divide from Melissa. Closing off.

" You hear from Lonnie..?" Jim, though brief, sees Melissa react to her dad's name. A flinch. " No." Joyce answers, wanting to take back how she mentioned his deceased child though it was too late. " It's been long enough. I'm having him checked out." This gave hopper an excuse, latitude, to pay Lonnie Byers a courtesy call. Melissa tailed Jim's heels, the nip of autumn breeze proving cold as her legs are harshly shivering, Joyce's voice calling out.

" Hopper. W.. Wait. Wait. Please. Hey."

Jim stares up in the clouds, cursing in his mind whoever was playing a nasty trick on him. He faces Melissa, though this time he looks elsewhere instead of her legs.

" I'm going with you."

Hopper waits a few seconds for her words to pass then is curt saying. " No." there is no way in hell Melissa Byers would be near her dad. Milly pops out her side. " No? I don't T.. Think I was asking. Jim."

Here she goes, again, how stubborn could Milly be.

" Lonnie's a suspect in this case, Mills. And.. I don't want you near him. Incase it gets physical or worse."

Melissa avoids making eye contact, looking for anything to focus her mind on. Brown butterflies floating in the wind go by her head.

" If there's a chance, a slim one, Will is.. there, he needs to see me there with you. so he knows he's not in any trouble. He hides, when he's not sure of things, Hopper. Please. And I will be fine. A plus is I know how to defend myself, now. Well actually." Milly had moved so she is positioned, standing, two steps in front of Jim. He considers her words, fidgeting his keys, to which a sigh is exhaled. There was no stopping her choice.

" Get in. But, if he tries any shit on you, I'm immediately removing you out of there and there won't be room for arguing."

'That is completely fine by me.'

Not giving a single second thought about what she is wearing, it was some old dampened gym clothes and Hoppers large jacket, Melissa gets in the passenger side of Jim's police van. It was a strange feeling being inside a Chevrolet van, considering it's a police modified one.

Her car is an early nineteen seventies antique midnight grey Pontiac in New York. Not that she isn't an expert on car models.

" I'm sorry. You know? 'Bout mom. She's.. I.."

Jim mumbled 'Don't. It's fine.' How was she to know of his late daughter's death. He reverses out to the road, doubling on the ignition, and begins his trip to see Lonnie Byers. Melissa sat memorising Hoppers van interior, it was clear to her how little he cared to be clean. That was trivial, though.

" Cancer."

Milly wonders if she heard, accurately.

" My.. daughter. Cancer. Her life was taken from her by cancerous cells. It.. had no cure." Melissa's heart ached. No one should go through such loss. Especially a child. " there was nothing the docs, or nurses, could have done to help prevent her from dying. I'm fine, though."

Jim expected to see those same pitiful stares those in town he would receive. It wasn't new. But furrows, raising, his eye brows to her face showing sympathy. Great sadness for him.

" Don't. I..m okay. Mills, Sweetheart."

" What was her name?" She asks, a tender  reverence in her tone. Respect. Jim drums his rough, gnarled fingers on the steering wheel. He stares, in a memory of a once healthy Sara.

" Her name was.. is Sara."

Deciding on the fact she wanted to respect hoppers mentality, Milly changes the tone spotting a similar brand Car merging lanes on the highway. She points over.

" I have a car, in New York, waiting for me. That is the exact model. I need to pay for it to be delivered to Hawkins. It's a bitch, to pay for the fees, plus tips. Tax cuts. I should've just driven it here Back home. But then I would had to have done two trips to here and back."

Jim, grateful the least for Milly changing the topic, raises his hand to point. " You .. have a second car? " If he remembers correct, he had seen a off-white Cadillac Coupe Deville on the grass out front of her house. Milly scoffs.

" Yes, I do. Don't sound surprised. I'm a woman who owns a sports car."

But a smile failed to maintain her 'Serious' expression. 'Dammit. He knows well how to make me crack a smile. He's not even trying. How does he have this effect on me.'

The car ride remain silent. But Jim would steal a gaze to Melissa not knowing she could see his stolen glances.

JASMINE SPEAKS;

Jim opened up to Melissa. It still, to this day, breaks my heart just how he lost little Sara. It's not easy losing a loved one, but a child's death is heart wrenching especially how Jim was sobbing in the scene when she did pass on. I was trying not to cry with him. There is things I can't well.

Death of children and animals. It hurts to see that happen in anything I watch.

How did you like the chapter? how I wrote it? I wanted Melissa and Jim to have a little chat inside his car. What do you think the flashback was telling us? Bonding in the car, you can call it.

Do you think it was too early in the story for Sara's death to be mentioned? Tell me below in the comments your thoughts.

I appreciate those that take their time to read and comment.