CHAPTER ONE.
JACKSON FAMILY HISTORY LESSON

☆ミ ☆彡

BEING A BLACK TEENAGER IN A PREDOMINATELY WHITE TOWN WAS HELL ON EARTH. At least, that's what Challan's grandmother Shantel Jackson used to tell her. Challan didn't truly understand it until she became a teenager, although some people didn't see a thirteen year old as a teenager.

Challan's grandmother had a decent life in Hawkins, Indiana back when she was younger. Well, as decent as it could get when living in a time where racism was so prevalent and she was the recipient of racial attacks. Shantel didn't think her life could get any worse than it already was. That is, until she was fifteen and Clayton Summers started to show an interest in her.

Shantel wasn't stupid. She knew better than to be seen with a white boy, her parents had warned her of how dangerous that could be. And to put it simply, she just wasn't interested and she didn't believe that he was truly interested in her and didn't want to be the butt of whatever joke he was playing. Clayton didn't handle the rejection well and started telling his friends that she was a nasty witch.

When he had said it, he didn't mean it literally. But that's how other people took it and he made no effort to correct them. In fact, he joined in on the lie, telling everyone who would listen that Shantel Jackson cast a love spell on him and he had broken free of it. The rumors spread throughout the town like wildfire and soon enough, the Jackson family had been deemed, witches. Then everything went to hell.

Challan's grandmother never went into too much detail about what she had endured, but if it was anything like what Challan was going through, then she understood.

She had naïvely questioned her grandmother as to why they didn't just move somewhere else. The answer being, that they just couldn't afford to.

Even now, Challan's parents couldn't afford to move them out of town. They could barely afford to pay for her dance lessons. Her father was a firefighter who was paid a decent amount of money. Her mother, who struggled to find a job in Hawkins (for obvious reasons) had a job at the bank in Evanswood, the next town over where Challan had her dance classes.

When Challan's mother Hadiyah Jackson married Hawkins local Theodore Logan, the town was sure that she had cast a spell on him, just like her mother Shantel had allegedly done all those years ago. There was just no way that he could have actually fallen in love with her. Nobody would want to go within 10 feet of the Jacksons. But Theodore had been intrigued by Hadiyah. He quickly discovered that the rumors weren't true, not that he ever believed them. Their love story was a strange one but in a way, it gave Challan hope. Hope that she wouldn't be alone and miserable in Hawkins forever. That she could meet someone who would truly want to know her and actually like her for who she really was (which was NOT a witch).

But Challan was thirteen now and all her hopes were slowly starting to dissipate. She didn't even have friends, there was just no way she'd meet someone like that. Not in Hawkins. She longed to turn eighteen and go off to college where she could finally make some friends and maybe even find that special someone like her mother had. But she had so many years to go and she was getting tired of waiting.

Things seemed to worsen when Will Byers had gone missing. Some people in town were convinced that she and her mother had something to do with it and that her father was covering up for them, despite her parents' attempts at aiding in the search parties held for the boy. The number of people that would come by her house, throwing eggs, spray painting their garage door with horrible things, and throwing rocks through their windows was too much. After the constant calls to the police by her parents, Jim Hopper, the police chief, had finally sent deputies to their house for protection against the vandals. It made Challan feel a little safer but she felt like even some of those deputies had been suspicious of them. And she could tell that they did not want to be posted outside of their house for protection. She was extremely relieved when Will had been found alive and well. Things lightened up after that but it was still horrible for her.

The final school bell had just rung, signaling the end of the school day. Challan found herself in the girl's bathroom, slicking her hair back into a bun using her 'lucky' scrunchie as she got ready for her dance class. She was sure the scrunchie wasn't really lucky, but she just called it lucky. When she was five, her father had said that the scrunchie would make her the best dancer in the world. She believed him of course, because she was five. And while she wasn't the best dancer in the world, she was the best dancer in her class. So in a way, maybe it was lucky. At least it was for dance.

Her ballet classes were after school, three days a week, and she was always in a rush to get ready. Hawkins didn't have a dance studio so she took classes in Evanswood. It was about an hour's drive, hence why she was rushing.

She glanced over her appearance quickly before grabbing her bags and running out of the bathroom and outside of the school. Her brown eyes searched the area, watching as kids got into their parents' cars or got onto buses or their bikes. Her eyes landed on her father's blue 1979 Ford Fiesta and she quickly made her way over to it.

She pulled open the door of the passenger's side and he looked up from his watch. "Seven minutes and eleven seconds. Slower than last time," he remarked.

Challan rolled her eyes as she put on her seatbelt. "Do you have to do this every time?" She questioned in exasperation.

"Hey, there's a lesson in all of this," he responded, turning the key into the ignition and beginning to drive out of the school's parking lot.

"Which is?" She asked.

His fingers tapped along the steering wheel as he thought of an answer.

"I'll let you know when I figure it out," he answered and she rolled her eyes again.

"Mhm."

The car was silent for a moment as he drove out onto the main road.

"So, how was school?" Her father asked, breaking the silence.

Challan sighed and shrugged, "Same as always."

Challan hated Hawkins Middle School more than she's ever hated anything before. It was a place of never-ending torment. She had asked, no begged her parents to let her go to school in Evanswood, where nobody knew about the whole witch thing. And while her parents wanted to let her, it was just unrealistic. They worked often and she wouldn't have anyone to drive her there and back every weekday. They just barely were able to take her to her dance classes, and even then, she oftentimes missed practices. So she was stuck in that horrid place full of racists and bullies.

"It'll get better," her father commented. He said it often, hoping that one day, the universe would grant his wishes and that it would get better for his daughter. He wanted so badly for it to get better.

"You say that every day," she muttered. He glanced over at her quickly before looking back out at the road.

The remainder of the car ride was silent other than the music playing softly from the radio.

••••

Challan loved to dance. It was the most important thing in her life outside of her family. She needed to dance the same way she needed to breathe, as dramatic as that sounded. It was when she was dancing that she truly could escape. Escape the torment, the judgment, the negativity. She was in her own world, and everything around her fell away. When she was dancing, she felt the weight of the world lift off of her shoulders and she could just be. This was a feeling she wished she could obtain even when she wasn't dancing. She hoped that maybe one day she would.

They had been preparing for the annual Christmas recital. This year's recital was special because it would be their first time doing the Nutcracker, a famous ballet. Challan looked forward to the recital every year because it was one of the few times she got to showcase her dancing abilities and also because her parents, without fail, had always been in attendance. They made sure to never be scheduled to work on the day of the recital or any of her dance recitals. They would rather lose their jobs than miss their daughter dance. Challan thought that was stupid, always telling them that if they needed to work, she understood. But still, they made it to her recitals and somehow neither of them had lost their jobs.

"Ah, Miss Logan, glad to see you've graced us with your presence today," Mrs. Durand, Challan's ballet teacher said as Challan walked into the building. She said this every time Challan came back to practice after missing some.

"Sorry, Mrs. Durand, my parents were working again," she replied.

The woman sent her teasing smile, "I'm only kidding Challan. Good to see you." She then walked into the room where they would be having class. Challan honestly liked Mrs. Durand. She seemed to want her to become the best dancer she could be, which was surprising. She didn't expect that sort of kindness from the woman.

Because Challan had been absent from so many classes, she didn't have as big of a part in this dance recital as she would have liked to. Mrs. Durand could see Challan's talent and would have loved to cast her in a big role, maybe even the lead, which would've been risky at the time but the woman couldn't find it within herself to care about the inevitable backlash. But it wasn't practical. Challan understood it though, it wouldn't have been fair to the other dancers who actually made it to every class. And so, Challan would be one of the Flowers in the second act of the ballet. She was fine with it, she liked the Waltz of the Flowers.

Challan followed after the woman, placing her dance bag and backpack on the floor next to the mirrors. A few of the other girls were already in the room, others slowly filtering in every so often. Challan sat in a corner and began to stretch.

When she said she didn't have friends, she didn't. She had hoped that she could make some friends in her ballet class, seeing as nobody there knew about the rumors about her. But for some reason, the other girls didn't like her. It didn't help that she was the only Black girl in the class.

Her mother had said they were just jealous of her talent. That Challan was a much more talented dancer than the other girls and they knew that and were mad about it. Challan wasn't so sure about that but didn't argue.

Once everyone had come into the room, Mrs. Durand walked to the front of the room, clapping her hands. The girls stood and made their way over to the barres. Challan took a deep breath and began following Mrs. Durand's instructions, already beginning to feel herself slip into that familiar tranquility that ballet offered her.

••••

I feel like this chapter is all over the place and not as cohesive as I would've liked but I wanted to include how the rumors about her family began and give a little backstory before jumping into the episodes. Also, Evanswood isn't a real town Indiana (at least I don't think it is). Please bear with me when it comes to updating.