CHAPTER EIGHT
008. cabin in the woods
JUMP- VAN HALEN

ONE NIGHT HAD MADDENED Hawkins. The world was spinning off it's axis; the people had changed irreversibly in such a short amount of time that there was barely any freedom to analyse them, besides the most obvious among the town's shrinking populous. The types like Jason Carver, who screamed a haunting tribute to Chrissy Cunningham that reverted back into them through anger. And the type like Adelade Thompson, who despite her own rules, refused to pick up the call from her boyfriend as she too came to terms with another death.

It wasn't entirely pretty; Steve, Robin, Max and Dustin did their best to leave the girl to herself, even allowing her to man a phone in an attempt to stop her from peeling every single layer of skin from her fingertips. They did their best to include her in their mystery - with an ounce of respect that hid behind the group's hostilities to the girl - until she excused herself to smoke outside. Then, and only then, did she let herself collapse into the puddle of familiar despiar that had been held away by the remaining whisker of hope for her friends.

It wasn't a pretty sight. It was filled with dried sobs, stained cheeks and the bundles of hair she ripped from her scalp in a despirate attempt to feel an ounce of what Chrissy must've felt. She wanted it all; the pain, the fear, the torment. She wanted to take it away from the cheerleader who she shared only a few intimate conversations with, just to take the guilt away. The guilt of being a survivor once more, only due to the strictness of her family.

Chrissy was nothing more than a kind face to Adelade for the majority of their time together. She hated her for a while, as she cozied up to Heather's ex after the month of her funeral, but even that wasn't enough to stop the girl's sweet disposition from rooting inside Adelade's heart. She cared for all her friends differently - Chrissy was a maternal care, from which she bonded over their shared lunch room habits and pressures from words which cut like knives.

Adelade could never imagine such a beautiful girl being so . . . mistreated by the opinions of others.

Heather had been adored for the same things that Chrissy seemed to despise about herself. Heather, who was one of the most enchanting people Adelade had ever met.

The door to the Family Video opened with a crash that startled Addie up from the pavement. The group sprinted towards the car without sharing a glance with their unintended plus one; none of them had any reason to check on the girl, or even call her name to explain where it was they were heading in such a rush. In fact, Steve, Dustin and Max had already opened the doors to the car by the time Robin seemed to remember their promise to the old queen of Hawkins.

When she remembered, her eyes became as wide as saucers.

"Shit- Adelade!" Her name felt awkward coming from Robin's mouth.

She grimaced at how very loudly she'd shouted, especially when Addie walked from the other side of the car. It was obvious she'd been crying - Robin tried her best to ignore the blood and small clumps of curly black hair that she tried to throw to the wind when the two met eyes, only succeeding in parts. While she was no where near as put together, there was still an air around the girl that left Robin unable to speak to her directly.

She put it down as residual fear from their confrontation, and moved on.

"We think we found them." She explained increadibly briefly, before closing the Family Video store and following the group into Steve's car.

Addie's decent into torment, as real as it was, would have to wait. For now, she was despirate to know how many friends she would mourn today.

OoO

REEFER RICK HAD A boat house far enough out of town to be untraceable to most.

It was old, and held enough spiders to put Emma off ever stepping foot in the place, which was already a hard sell due to the work that had gotten him enough money to buy it. On top of that, in her silent grief she'd failed to make it clear to Eddie how uncomfortable the man made her ( or how scared she was about trespassing in general ). She hated the idea of him enough to vomit when she noticed the obvious signs of drug dealing around the property - not the mention the fear that came with his prison sentence. It was hard to believe she was there; it was hard to believe a lot of things that'd happened to the girl in the last 24 hours.

She thought it best to avoid these thoughts as she sat below the cover of the man's old fishing boat, with Eddie cradled in a ball beside her. It had been around an hour since they returned to their hiding spot for the night; an hour spent without words.

"You come here often?" Emma whispered.

Her voice was surprisingly smooth to Eddie, despite their absence of conversation. Neither had mentioned what they'd seen; neither had the guts to confirm the terrible sights that would be impossible to explain to anybody who knew they'd bared witness. Emma herself hoped to avoid the inevitable for a little bit longer first, before she too became a broken puppet of herself. Only she would remain intact in front of Eddie Munson, who wasn't entirely astute enough to see the mental bones that continued to shatter as the two sat in their solemn tribute to her friend.

Eddie couldn't quite laugh at the break in their silence, but found a lightness in his body the second he heard her speak. It was a lightness he'd long attributed to the girl, who had managed to weed her way through the hatred he held for anything popular.

"More recently." Eddie admitted.

His clothes were creased by his position under the tarp, as was his increasingly matted hair. In comparison Emma was the picture of elegance; she looked at the teenage boy with a softness that told Eddie he didn't have to be ashamed of the fear in his eyes, or the comfort he sought out in Emma. Some time in their hour under the tarp, the two had moved from opposite ends of the boat to the very middle to cry. They cried often together in the day that'd past from the murder.

There was no shame in tears, or the comfort of each other that ensued once their dried sobs lessened.

"My uncle. . . he doesn't understand a lot of things. Sometimes I need a break, so I come here."

Emma nodded, breathing through her mouth to try and take in some less muddled air. Her own hair was matted and frizzy from the tarp above them, but Eddie didn't mind. He's imagined a multitude of situations with the girl over the months he learnt of her true nature ( many which ended with matted hair ), but he never could've imagined the admiration he'd have for her when he saw it. Perhaps it was the shocking events that tainted them both, which opened his eyes so widely to her comfort.

Eddie had spoken to most of the Hellfire Club about his softness for Emma Carlton - particularly as he damned those like Adelade Thompson - but not even he could've expected this. He was itching to tell her everything about him, if only to finally get her to understand why he was so cowardly in his trailer.

"I get it."

Eddie couldn't look at her with kinder eyes, or a more open heart. Even in their perpetual darkness, Emma could see how earnestly he listened to her speak. She always liked that about Eddie. Compared to most of her friends, he would always take an active role when listening to her. Not that she was allowed to openly admit they were friends, or anything beyond that.

In her head, however, he was one of the most doting inderviduals she'd met, and she treasured their little interactions dearly. Even if she knew he felt indifferently to her, and hated her friends.

"My parents love me, so much." Emma began, fiddling with the gold ring on her finger.

"Sometimes I think a little too much. It would take so little for me to hurt them, or for them to become sick with worry. Most of the time, I choose to keep my real life seperate because of that."

Eddie didn't reply to Emma. Instead he spent their time together before loud shouts rang from outside the boat house simply observing. In the light that shone through the gaps in the tarp, her cheeks glistened perfectly. Her eyes held the same despair and fear which pooled out of his, which almost tripled once they heard the shouts, and the noise once the door to the boat house swung open.

From then on, the two were forced into silence. All Eddie could do to provide comfort was take Emma's hand, which sat idly in her lap.

"Hey." The two flinched as they heard a voice in the room.

"Look over here."

The voice was female. It was accompanied with a creak in the floorboards from what Eddie and Emma could only guess was her feet, as well as her friends. Through the thin tarp they spotted the odd bright light as it shone through the holes in their hiding spot. Emma let her welled up tears fall as her lip trembled, terrified of being found by whoever came looking for them.

It was quickly becoming too much; a sight which thrusted Eddie's already monstrous guilt to centre stage. If he went back in time and stayed, then perhaps she would've been able to go home.

"Someone was here."

The girl was referring to the many wrappers of food the two had left on the sides of the boat house. During the day, they'd taken a couple of hours in the sunlight, a fact that Emma deeply regretted now. Their conversations never consisted of much beyond surface level things ( like most of their conversations before Chrissy's death ), but it had been nice to share a meal, as well as opinions around common Hawkin's snacks.

"Maybe he heard us." A second, more gravelly voice suggested. "Got spooked and ran."

Eddie never took his eyes off of Emma, who looked mildly relieved to hear 'he' instead of 'them'. A relief which shattered the very second the tarp above them began to shake.

"Don't worry, Steve will get him with his ore."

"I know you think you're funny Henderson. . ."

At the mention of his name, Eddie's face perked up entirely. It was a confusing sight to Emma, who remained terrified of each hit of the tarp to their left. She was doing her best to make no noise by biting her hand, whilst Eddie tried to slowly maneuver his legs from beneath him. It was a miracle their intruders hadn't heard them.

". . .but considering the fact that almost everyone in this room has nearly died about 100 times, personally I don't find it funny-"

Eddie suddenly sprang up from underneath the tarp, barely missing Emma as he went. The small yelp was muffled by the commotion above her as three different people shouted a multitude of different things, all of which variations of the same distress she was feeling so severely. She was anxious about being caught now, but even more so, she was riddled with the worry of Eddie Munson, who had bravely tackled whoever was hitting the boat into the nearest wall.

What was worse, was that he'd waited until the last possible moment to release her hand from his grip, leaving it freshly burning with the absence of him. An absence which only brought more tears from Emma's itching eyes.

An absence which was felt even when he wasn't gone. Just when he was out of her direct sight.

So much sadness
in one chapter!
I love Eddie and
Emma's mutual
pining, which is
gonna be their
trope for this book.

Meanwhile, we have
some misunderstood
romance blossoming
with Robin and Addie.
UGH, they will have
their cute scenes soon
I promise!