CHAPTER ZERO: bad idea!

The day had just started just like any other day in Lenora Hills, California — hot and sunny, with the relentless brightness baking the town in its usual golden glow. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary occurred, you might say; it was just a normal day.

Nothing ever changed, nothing ever happened. And that is what made it so tiring. Students at her high school make it even worse — boys who act like overgrown dogs, nervous creatures that jump and slobber all over you the moment you give them attention. They're predictable, with their shallow compliments and misplaced confidence, always eager to impress but never really listening.

The girls, on the other hand, are just as bad, if not worse. They think they're too cool to be seen at school, preferring to hang out at the mall where they can parade around like their daddy owns the place. They strut through the halls with their noses in the air, quick to judge anyone who doesn't fit their narrow view of what's cool. To Rosalie, they're all just empty shells, obsessed with appearances and popularity. It's no wonder she's bitchy most of the time — there's nothing in this world that she finds worth the effort.

Rosalie still calls California home, though, and she is devoted to her loved ones despite her frustrations; her mother and the Byers hold special meaning in her life, and she would not trade them for anything.

As she made her way through the hallways of Lenora Hills High School, the usual bustle of students talking about weekend plans or what they saw on TV last night surrounded her. She didn't bother engaging; it was all just noise. She pushed open the door to her journalism class and slid into her seat, trying to ignore the dull routine of it all.

Mr. Andrews walked in a few moments later, his usual stern expression in place. "Alright, class, let's get started. Before we dive into today's lesson, I want to hear some thoughts on the book we just finished. Who wants to share?"

A girl in the front row, Amanda, immediately raised her hand. "I thought it was so romantic," she gushed. "The way the main character just wouldn't give up on her, even when she pushed him away. He was so passionate."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, unable to hold back. "Romantic? Seriously? The guy was an abusive alcoholic with zero respect for women. He was a misogynistic jerk who manipulated her every chance he got. That's not romance."

Mr. Andrews sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. "Rosalie, not everything has to be a debate."

"Well, maybe if we stopped romanticizing toxic behavior, we wouldn't have to have these debates," Rosalie shot back, her tone sharp. "The book is an oppressive patriarchal values that dictate our education."

From across the room, Luke — captain of the basketball team and one of the guys who always seemed to have something obnoxious to say—chimed in with a smirk. "Maybe he wouldn't have had to be such an ass if she wasn't playing hard to get. Chicks like that ask for it."

Rosalie felt a familiar surge of irritation. "Clearly, since I suppose that being a man and an asshole qualifies you for our attention," she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Luke opened his mouth to retort, but Mr. Andrews quickly intervened. "That's enough, both of you," he said, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Let's try to keep this class civil for once, alright?"

Rosalie leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. She could feel the annoyed stares from her classmates, but she didn't care. She wasn't about to sit back and let that kind of garbage slide, even if it meant getting on her teacher's bad side—again.

Mr. Andrews, eager to move past the confrontation, cleared his throat and picked up a stack of papers from his desk. "Now, as I was saying before we were interrupted, spring break is approaching, and I have a research assignment for all of you—"

Rosalie's interest was piqued, though the rest of the class groaned in displeasure.

"—Settle down, I'm not finished," Mr. Andrews continued. "Each of you will receive a topic to investigate, something with a bit of mystery to it. I want you to thoroughly research and write your own version of the story."

Rosalie raised her hand, prompting a sigh from Mr. Andrews.  "Yes, Miss 'I Have an Opinion About Everything.'"

"Do you want this as a formal research essay, or just in MLA format?" she asked sincerely.

Mr. Andrews looked at her, surprised. "You're not going to argue with me about this?" he asked, clearly taken aback.

Rosalie shook her head. "No, I think it's a really good assignment."

He laughed sarcastically. "You're just messing with me, aren't you?"

"No, I'm actually looking forward to writing it," she replied, offering her teacher a soft smile as he stood there, seemingly losing his composure.

Without answering her question, Mr. Andrews rifled through the stack of assignments before practically slamming one onto Rosalie's desk.

"Here," he said. "Figure it out with this topic, since you're so eager."

Rosalie sighed and picked up her assignment, glancing at it as Mr. Andrews continued distributing different topics to the rest of the class.

INDIANA, HAWKINS
Cursed or not?
...

STRANGER OCCURS:
• Missing Kids: Barbara Holland. . .
• The Boy Who Came Back To Life (Zombie Boy).
• Sudden Mall Fire: THIRTY DEAD, Hero Chief dies in fire.

...
TOWN FOLKS SAY THE DEVIL LIVES IN HAWKINS.

Rosalie couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to the assignment than just a simple research paper. The words "Cursed or not?" lingered in her mind like an itch she couldn't scratch, and the eerie bullet points only fueled her curiosity. Missing kids, a boy coming back from the dead, a mysterious mall fire —these weren't the everyday small-town occurrences. Something strange was definitely going on in Hawkins, and Rosalie wanted to be the one to uncover it.

As she walked to lunch, weaving through the crowded hallway, she spotted Argyle and Jonathan Byers sitting at their usual spot outside, away from the chaos of the cafeteria. Argyle, with his laid-back vibe and penchant for conspiracy theories, was someone she could always count on for an outlandish idea or two. Jonathan, on the other hand, was quieter, and more reserved, and ever since he moved to California, he'd become like an older brother to Rosalie. But lately, he seemed more distant, lost in his thoughts, and Rosalie knew exactly why.

"Hey, Byers," she said, plopping down next to him and giving Argyle a nod. "I need to pick your brain about something."

Jonathan glanced up from his half-eaten sandwich, looking more tired than usual. "What is it?"

"I got this assignment for journalism," Rosalie explained, sliding the paper across the table. "It's about Hawkins being cured. Ever heard anything about it?" She smirked.

Jonathan's eyes flickered with recognition, and he immediately looked uncomfortable. He pushed the paper back toward her without even reading it. "I'm not gonna talk about Hawkins right now."

Rosalie practically let out a gasp; "Oh come on!" She cried. "What's bothering you? Are you high?" She asked.

"I'm not high!"

"He's mopping about his girlfriend ditching him," Argyle answered providing Rosalie with an idea. She had heard all about Jonathan's notorious girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler.

Rosalie understood deep down that Jonathan cared strongly about her based on the way he spoke about her, if anything Jonathan nearly never stopped talking about her. Even though their relationship is currently a little rocky. It seems like nothing will ever change that, even though they are miles apart.

"I'm not mopping about Nancy!" He fumed, "There's not much to say about Hawkins, really. Just your typical small town." He muttered, clearly not thrilled by the topic.

Though Rosalie wasn't buying it. She knew Jonathan well enough to recognize when he was hiding something. "Come on, Jon. I'm writing about all the weird stuff that's happened there. Missing kids, that fire at the mall— thirty people dead, including a hero cop? I know you know more than you're letting on."

Jonathan sighed; "It's a bad idea Rose."

Rosalie frowned, leaning in closer. "Come on, Jon. You grew up there. You have to know something. What about that 'boy who came back to life' story? Sounds like something straight out of a horror flick."

Jonathan clenched his jaw, his knuckles white as he gripped his sandwich. His face tightened, and he stared at his food without eating. "I don't know anything about that stuff," he muttered. "You're wasting your time."

"I just need a lead Jon," She stated eyeing him carefully. "You know, like where all the ghosts, zombies, and cults hang out."

Argyle snorted, taking a bite of his burrito. "Sounds like Hawkins is one gnarly place."

Jonathan's eyes flicked up to meet Rosalie's. "You really wanna know what happened in Hawkins?" he said, his voice low and strained. "You think it's just some fun mystery to solve? Well, it's not. It's real. All of it. The monsters, the... the other world."

Rosalie blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. She opened her mouth to respond, but Jonathan wasn't finished.

"There's a creature—things that no one should ever have to see. It's not a ghost or a zombie. It's from somewhere else, somewhere dark. And it's taken people, hurt them..." His voice broke, and he looked away, swallowing hard. "So, yeah. Have fun with your assignment, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Rosalie stared at him, her skepticism warring with the unease his words had stirred. A creature from another dimension? It was too far-fetched, too absurd to be true. And yet, Jonathan's haunted expression told a different story.

"You're high."

"I'm not high."

She forced a laugh, trying to shake off the chill that had settled over the table. "Okay, Jon, I get it. Good one. But seriously, if you don't want to help, that's fine. I'll figure it out on my own."

Jonathan didn't respond, and Rosalie exchanged a worried glance with Argyle, who merely shrugged, looking as confused as she felt.

After school, Rosalie headed straight for the library, determined to uncover more about Hawkins. She spent hours sifting through dusty old books and scrolling through website articles, but every source yielded little more than vague mentions and sensationalized rumors. Frustrated, she finally threw her hands up in defeat and packed her things.

When she got home, her mom was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she prepared dinner. Rosalie flopped down at the table and began recounting her assignment.

"I've been digging through everything I can find about Hawkins," Rosalie said. "But all I've come up with are dead ends."

Her mom paused, glancing over her shoulder with a hint of hesitation. "Well, you know, I did hear some stories from... y'know who," she said, referring to Rosalie's estranged father who lived in Hawkins. "He mentioned some strange things happening there."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, not interested in hearing more about her father.

She retreated to her room, where she flicked on the radio to fill the silence as she worked on her other assignments. The static crackled before a familiar voice came through. "Breaking news from Hawkins: A student from Hawkins High,  has been found dead at Forest Hills Trailer Park. Authorities are baffled by her sudden and unexplained death. Some speculate it may be another case of mysterious deaths or... the work of Saint? Everyone wants to know the same thing; how can so many tragedies befall a once peaceful town?"

Rosalie's ears perked up. "Saint?" she muttered to herself. The mention of the high school student passing and the vague reference to something dark and sinister sparked her curiosity anew. Her earlier skepticism gave way to a renewed sense of purpose.

She grabbed her phone and dialed the Byers' number hoping for Jonathan to answer.

"Hello, Byers residence." He answered the phone

Rosalie didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Jonathan, I've been researching Hawkins, and I just heard about a student uh— a Hawkins high school student death on the radio. I think it's more than just a random tragedy—"

"—Rose, what are you planning?" Said Jonathan sounding concerned

She sighed, taking a breath before revealing her plan; "I'm planning to visit Hawkins over spring break to investigate further."

There was a long pause on the other end. "Rose, I really don't think you should—"

"Don't worry," she cut him off. "I've made up my mind. I need to see this for myself."

Jonathan's voice grew more urgent. "Look, I get it. You're curious. But Hawkins isn't what you think it is. It's dangerous, and you don't know what you're getting into. It's not just a mystery—it's... a bad idea."

"I appreciate the concern," Rosalie interrupted, her tone firm. "But I need to do this. I'll be careful. I promise."

Jonathan sighed heavily. "Fine. Just. . .be careful."

As she hung up, Rosalie's mind buzzed with anticipation. Spring break couldn't come soon enough. She was ready to delve into the shadows of Hawkins, hoping to uncover the truth behind the mysterious deaths and the eerie whispers that seemed to cling to the town like a dark fog. Oblivious to what was in store for her.