CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A HAND TO HOLD

Everywhere I went, I felt eyes on me. It was nice to see everyone looking out for me, but I surely couldn't hurt myself by taking a few steps. Besides, they needed help and I was here to do just that; help them.

Steve was the most confused-or, maybe concerned-as we ran around trying to find weapons with heat that we could take with us. We brought the kitchen torch, and the frying pan that we planned on heating up with the kitchen torch (or, in worst case scenario, we would just use it to knock someone out). We also decided to bring a small first aid kit just in case, because you could never be too careful.

Dustin seemed pleased with himself as he found a decently heavy flashlight, which could double as a source of light and a weapon. I myself had a metal vase that Joyce said I could use, given that the plant she had in it had died.

Max looked nervous, but every time someone would glance in her direction she would put on a brave face. I frowned at the sight, my mind wandering back to Billy Hargrove who was still under the Mind Flayer's control.

I never liked Billy before all this happened-in fact, I hardly knew him at all. I had seen glimpses of him in the school halls, picking on students and hitting on girls, and being a total asshole to literally everyone, but I would never wish the Mind Flayer to take control over anyone-even Billy Hargrove.

And if getting Billy back would help Max, then I would do it.

Nancy walked up to me as I tossed the metal vase from one hand to the other, listening to the hollow ting of the metal. My eyes met hers in an instant, and she looked worried. For a while, however, she didn't speak. She reached a hand up towards my wrist to stop me from moving, before slowly slipping it into my free one.

We stood there holding hands for a while as everyone else got ready. We had nothing else to do, really. We would, however, be going to the Wheelers house to get some things before we got Hopper, Billy and El (because apparently Nancy Wheeler had guns in her bedroom). Until then, Nancy had no weapon to hold, only a hand-my hand.

I was alarmingly aware of how soft her hand was in mine, and how she gave it a small squeeze to reassure me that everything would be okay, and that this wasn't my fault. I frowned, it was my fault.

It didn't matter how many times everyone else told me otherwise, I couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible.

"It's not your fault."

It was like she could read my mind. Nancy knew me better than everyone, including myself. She knew how I hated violence and anything remotely unkind, which made it all the more shocking that I ended up being the one the Mind Flayer took. She knew how I blamed myself the second something went wrong, and how I wouldn't listen to anyone's thoughts but my own. And she knew how to calm me down, which is something that few people could do.

"I know you don't believe me, but it's true." She insisted. "He was in your head, using you to do his dirty work and it's wrong. But nothing you ever did was. You did not kidnap El, you did not steal anything, and you did not hurt anyone. I need you to understand, Harps."

Nancy's words made me want to cry, but my eyes remained dry. Even with that reassurance, I still had an overwhelming feeling of guilt building up by the second. But my heart still warmed at the honesty, and the trust that she had in me that I would never do this.

Still, even with the guilt building up, I said, "I understand."

Nancy sent me a halfhearted smile, seeing the regret in my eyes. She didn't say anything else-because there was nothing to say. She only held my hand, which I held onto desperately, worried that if I let go I would fade away and lose my mind once more, becoming a void of nothingness again.

The ride to the Wheeler's house was silent. Joyce drove Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Max and I while Steve took the rest (one of his seats was full with a box a weapons, taking up too much space for a person). It was a bit of a tight squeeze, and we were definitely breaking some laws by having Will sit on the floor, but it worked out fine.

When we got to the Wheeler's, Steve parked behind us. We had parked out of sight from the windows, but close so that Nancy and Mike could bring the weapons without being seen.

I watched as Nancy hopped out of the passenger seat, meeting up with Mike halfway before the two went through the basement door.

It was a silent wait for a while, and I almost laughed when I looked down to see Will looking around from the floor of the car. He was patient, and unbothered by his seating arrangement.

The silence was broken when Will began drumming softly on the seat next to him, and no one bothered enough to stop him. Soon enough, Nancy arrived, leaving Mike to head to Steve's car.

Joyce pulled out as soon as Nancy was in the car, leaving her to buckle up as she drove. Nancy didn't speak, but I noticed the pistol she held, and I could only assume Mike had taken a weapon with him to the other car.

As if Nancy could feel eyes on her, she turned around to look at me, where I sat in the back left seat. We didn't speak, but our eyes said everything. We were silently asking each other if we were okay, before she nodded her head. I nodded back, watching as she turned to face the front before inhaling a deep breath-exhaling. Then, the car was silent, aside from the rumbling of Joyce's old car and her blinkers turning on each time we changed to a different road.

No one wanted to speak, and I was afraid if I said anything at all, I would accidentally voice all the doubts I had. I could only pray that the others were more hopeful than me, and that everyone would be safe and unharmed by the end of the day.

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lizzie speaks...

wooo it's abt to get interesting