Chapter Text
Briar Morely opened her navy eyes to morning sunlight pouring in through her window and onto her face. She had been awoken from another nightmare that still played fresh in her mind, she was in biology class, dissection day, she looked down at the frog open on her tray. Her frog was different from all the others, it had eggs inside of its abdomen and smelled like a rotting corpse. The frog bled out onto the tray as its heart restarted in its chest and its eyes opened gorily, it spoke to Briar in a choked rasping voice that sounded strangely like her late mothers, “why? Why Briar? Why have you done this to me?” it hissed in rage and its voice seemed to grow louder as if it was inside her head “WHY!?” it barked, its eyes bulging, that's when she had woken up.
She stood up from her white metal day bed which creaked softly under the change in weight. She looked at the messy bed solemnly, she tended to shift a lot in her sleep. Her flowery sheets and quilt were all askew and half on the floor, her frilled white pillows shifted the shape still bearing the memory of her laying on them, her hand sewn cockroach stuffed animal laid on the floor and looked up at her with his plastic button eyes. She picked him up gently as she made her bed, she set him by her pillow when she was done and gave him a little pat.
She walked to her vanity quietly, her strippy socks pressing into the brown shag carpet that often made her sneeze. She took out some clothes from her brown wood dresser and looked at herself in her mirror, she was pale due to the cold of the midwest winter, her face was dotted with pinkish red acne around her temples, under her mouth, and on her nose. Her long black hair laid messy from sleep, sticking up strangely, her body was heavier than most girls in her school, she was broad shouldered and she was bustier even through her baggy sleep shirt, her thighs touched around where her hips ended but open from then down, her stomach covered the bit of skin just before her genitalia. Much of it was water weight, it shifted from day to day depending on a multitude of factors. She looked herself over like she often would, lifting her shirt looking at the stretch marks and pimples on her pale body.
She pulled off her gray sleep shirt along with her underwear she slept in, it was lacy and tan and had a little bow on the front. She looked at her body over, for just a moment, trying to be neutral about it. Honestly, at home she often thought she was very pretty, until she remembered what had happened to truly make her hate herself in the way she did. When she remembered she immediately stopped looking at herself, all thoughts of admiration and positivity flew out the window and she began to get ready as quickly as she could.
Briar slid on new underwear, similar to the other ones just light blue. She put on her denim skirt and buttoned and zipped it, the old button had broken off so she had gotten to choose a new one, she’d picked a marbled brown and tan one instead of a metal one, she’d also sewn white lacy frills around the bottom of the skirt since she adored frills and lace. She put on a tank top over her tan breast petals which covered her nipples and kind of helped with her lack of bra. The tank top was dark blue and white and striped with blue lace around the collar and a bow that sat in the middle of the collar. Lastly she took off her socks she’d worn to bed and sat back down on her daybed to put on some tube socks with red lines at the top, she then put on her black converse and tied them as best as she could.
She stood up and the bed shifted from the change in weight once more as she stood, she picked up her sleep clothes and tossed them in her hamper, which would go in the laundry when she got home from school. As she walked out the door she grabbed her hairbrush giving her hair a brush-through before pulling it back into a ponytail. She walked through her living room where her grandpa sat on the couch, sipping coffee reading the newspaper like he usually did in the morning. She sat down next to him with a soft grunt.
“Mornin’ grandpa” she smiled leaning onto his shoulder “readin’ the news?” she asked with a small smile
Her grandpa chuckled at her joke “No. Readin’ the funnies.” he smiled and ruffled her hair playfully. “Breakfast is on the counter if you want kiddo” he smiled, his crows feet crinkling as he did, Briar’s grandpa was a thinner but still fit man, he was old physically but not mentally. He could still move well just a bit slower, he could still work just fine, he still cracked jokes like a younger man would. He usually wore flannels or sweaters, jeans, and button ups. He had dark hair like Briar’s that was full yet graying around the sides, he grew a mustache that was also graying, he wore reading glasses and still carried a pocket watch. He refused to wear ties, he said they were too tight and made him feel like an old man. Briar understood what he meant in a way when he said that. He smelled of fresh cut wood and motor oil as well as cologne. He owned a shop making tables and countertops, most of them custom pieces for clients.
Briar’s grandpa was a brilliant loving man who’d used to live with her and her parents when they still lived on the farm in Virginia. He’d moved up to Hawkins on his own when Briar was 8, her and her father had moved up when she was 10 after just a month after her mother died. After Briar’s father had been sent to jail when she was 13, she was left with her grandpa who the court deemed more than fit to care for her. She was 17 now and would be 18 in March.
Briar walked to the kitchen looking at the bread set out on the counter, she popped a piece in the toaster and leaned on the tan linoleum countertop waiting for the toaster to pop, toast was the most they had for breakfast right now. They didn’t have much money but their life was comfortable, she was never hungry, never cold, she had her own room, she couldn’t ask for much else. She loved her home. The toaster popped, she spread some jam on the toast and bit into it, she went into the fridge and grabbed a Sunny Delight out of it. She ate her toast and went to the front door.
She put on her mothers navy windbreaker and zipped it halfway, grabbing her car keys, her camera, and her backpack. She shouted goodbye to her grandpa before heading out the door and getting into her car. She leaned back in her driver's seat and sipped her Sunny Delight before starting the car and setting the juice in her cupholder. She popped a mixtape into her car’s player and she was off to school.
Hawkins Highschool, where dreams go to die.