༉˚*ೃ ᵒ³. 𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐃-𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒!

𝐒𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓 of her bed.

          She disconnected from the Something as her head slammed against the wooden floor. It sent pain racketing through her skull, left her momentarily dazed. Shit, that hurt. The girl lay there for a moment, as if waiting for someone to help her up. But there was no one to come: no friends, or brothers or sisters—certainly no mother or father. They were dead, she supposed. Or somewhere better off than her.

          Slowly, Sar pulled herself up into sitting position, slumped over herself. A droplet of blood landed on her nightgown, staining the yellow slip an ugly shade of red. Sar raised her fingers to her nose. They came away bloody.

          She could still feel it at a distance, writhing in the town she once called home—if that's what the lab could be described as. She didn't know what had come before. Sar held her head in her hands for a moment before standing up. Her legs were shaky from the exertion of her mind—such a long way away. Sar knew she'd wake up with killer bruises tomorrow.

          The young girl hovered at the end of her bed for a moment. Her fingers were waiting at the blanket hem. Confliction darted through her eyes.

          Then, her hand darted out and grabbed the backpack from her desk. She threw it on her bed and began stuffing it with items. An extra pair of clothes; some food; a wallet full of all the money she could fit... her fingers hovered over a stuffed tiger lying on her bed. Eventually, she gave in and shoved the toy in the backpack. Sar chucked the rest of her things into the bag. She threw on some clothes, slipped her leather jacket over her shoulders, and left the house.

༉*ೃ༄

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 inside a payphone. A telephone was pressed up against her ear, chord wound around her finger. "Kim? I'm going away for a while. Yeah, I've just got some business." She was leaning up against the glass, bag tossed over her shoulder. "Don't let anyone raid my house. Yes, Kim—that includes you. I'll see you soon. Yeah. Bye, Kim." Sar hung the telephone back onto the hook. It clicked off.

          Sar turned around and toed open the payphone door with her boot. It was still night. The moon shone down from above, sending shards of light through the dark sky. It made her feel warm, somehow.

          She was balancing all her things in her arms. Her hand sorted through her money and her wallet rested on one arm, backpack hanging on the other. She grabbed a $5 and shoved the rest of her cash into the bag. The bus station was still open, lights flooding through the open windows. Sar made way inside and walked to the singular night-booth. "One ticket to Hawkins, Indiana, please. One-way." The lady in the booth glanced up as Sar slid her money across the counter.

          She peered at Sar over round glasses, and took the money. "You going to see family, honey?" Sar supposed she did look a little young to be going alone—only sixteen.

          Sar tied her hair up into a ponytail. "Something like that." Her arms wrapped around herself as the woman pulled out a bus ticket.

          "Here you are," the lady told Sar, handing her a green slip. "The next bus will come by in a half-hour."

          Sar hiked her backpack over her shoulder. "Thank you." She slipped the ticket into her hands and nodded towards the lady, before exiting the building and heading for the bus stop. The wait was cold and silence. Ice winds pulled her long strands of hair out of its ponytail. The bench was freezing cold, she was forced to tuck her arms under her chest in an attempt to keep them warm. Perhaps if she'd planned ahead, she would have brought a book along to occupy her. Instead, her fingers were forced to play along the hems of her shirt for comfort.

          When the bus arrived, Sar was shaking with the cold. She hopped on and handed the ticket to the driver. At this time, there were only a few people on the bus, so Sar took a seat halfway down. It was comfortable enough. The bus was much warmer than outside, but her legs still burned with cold. She lifted them beneath her, tucking them against the seat. Beside her, she lay her backpack, stuffed with all her things. This was going to be a long ride.

          She pressed her face against the window, chin against her arm. The doors slid shut, and Sar pulled away from the home that she'd made for herself.

          Sar let her thoughts creep from her mind, away from this town. They searched the states for one mind in particular. She passed thousands, waking minds and dreams alike—thousands of people she'd never know, but each with a life and dreams of their own. Sometimes, the vastness of it all amazed her.

          The mind she found was complex and warm, comfortingly familiar, like a walking dream, of poppies and daisies, and ravens' wings and tears.

          "James?" She'd never call him by his number, not seriously anyway, even if it was what she'd had to call him back then. Their numbers held too much trauma. And Four held just about as much as any of them. Her mind hung like gentle clouds.

         She half wasn't expecting an answer. It was late, and he was halfway across the country. Surely he wouldn't be looking out for her at this time. Sar's fingers played along the window frame for a few moments as she waited. This time, she was wrong.

          "Hey, Sar. What's up?" His thoughts were comforting inside her mind. Instantly, she felt safer, and lay her head down again. She didn't pry into the deeper consciousness of his mind, simply listening to his open-most thoughts.

          Sar leaned back in her seat. "I'm leaving Chicago." The landscape outside whizzed past in a blur, the night passing like clockwork. "I'm going back to Hawkins."

          "What?" She could feel all the panic, the deep alarm, in his thoughts. Of course he was afraid—why would she ever go back there? There was nothing left for them there but danger and death. Sar questioned the madness a little bit herself. She felt her own terror deep in her bones.

          Sar curled her arms against her chest. "I felt something. Something like the end. It felt like... death."

          "Sar, whatever the feeling is, it's coming from the lab. They're trying to lure you back." His thoughts had curved into that of worry—typical of him—the warmth being replaced by a fearful chill which sent a shiver down Sar's spine. Oh, James, she thought to herself.

          The blonde girl shook her head. "No, it's not like that. I know when I'm being baited. This— this is real, James. It's not just a signal, it's... it's a feeling. I can feel it inside me like a disease. What if it's another kid?"

          James thoughts were aptly panicked now. "Then we can't do anything for them, Sar. We did what we could. The lab's never going to give up."

          "'We did what we could'..." she repeated, thought hollow and gentle. There was some deep pain gnawing at her chest, terrible. "We left them there, James." It had been three years, and still the guilt ate at her like a ravenous beast. It stripped her all away. They'd done what they could—of course they told themselves that. But what if they could have saved the rest of them? Saved them from an inevitable fate.

          "Sar, they'll catch you if you go back there," his thoughts echoed in her mind softly.

          The young girl chewed at her cheek. She curled her fingers on her arm and furrowed her eyebrows. "Whatever this thing is, James, it screamed. It wasn't human. There's something loose in Hawkins. And it feels so wrong... you wouldn't even believe..." Her lips were tightened. "It was like death had come again. This Something is not supposed to be there."

          "No way, Sar." James voice had adopted that kind of brotherly tone, filled with discipline and edges with worry. "If it's not human, there's no way you should go. We know what they were working on. Who knows what they've managed by now?"

          Sar twisted her fingers together. A crease had formed between her brows, the corners of her lips downturned. "I have to. I just know, James. Trust me." Her head found the seat behind her and she focused her eyes on the rocking ceiling above. "Just be safe, okay? Both of you." She'd always make them promise that.

          "You know if you die, we'll never forgive ourselves."

          "Then I won't die," she promised. There was a silence left inside her head, even when she reached for his mind. He'd buried his thoughts so deep that she couldn't read him. Damn her for teaching her that. "Just talk to me, okay James? This is going to be a long ride, and I don't want to be thinking for most of it. I'm going to go insane." There was a little bit of a promise there, in her words.

          His mind relaxed at her words. "I'm not going to leave you." His thoughts were soft and comforting. They always were. Sometimes, Sar wanted to go back to him.

          There was a silence that hung between them for a moment, and Sar settled herself down. She pressed the side of her head against the window and watched the night-bathed world slide by. It was a strange feeling, she realised, leaving the home she'd tried to make for herself in Chicago. She'd spent all that time trying to avoid her past—and now here she was, running right back to it. The dread that was nestled in her chest, she hadn't felt anything like it in years.

          "Sar?"

          "Yeah?"

          "You're more than just a number, okay? Remember that where you're going."

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NOTE FROM PRESENT: i miss my og inline comments :(

word count: 1,673

originally posted, 17.12.2017.

revised and rewritten, 02.11.2020.