Seven. Jen with everything seen
Hawkins, Oct. 1983
This is fucked. He knows. But he's never done anything right since he started high school.
Steve remembers the first time he saw her at the trailer park. He knew he shouldn't have been back at Lowen's place, especially when his mind was drowned in Nancy Elizabeth Wheelerâbut Violet was acting out of character. Like she suddenly hated his room and kept throwing her shoes at his legs.
(She wanted to go apparently.)
It was annoying and frustrating, because she couldn't talk and voice what she was trying to say. Every time Steve tried to stop it, it didn't work, and he nearly yelled at her. He's never yelled at a child before, he's never had reason tooâkids weren't involved in his life. Until now.
His lips were parted when he noticed her watery eyes, and she cried silentlyâshe's never done that before either. Steve officially declared Violet hated his room and house. He couldn't blame her. So, he took her and her shoes to the only other place he knew for this baby.
And there she was.
All dark, wavy hair down to her shoulders, that definitely looked like it could be a honey brown in the sun's highest point. Her stark maroon eyes. Dainty hands and fidgeting movements. A ring on her left pointer finger, it was made with small silver hearts. She was feeding a stray dog what seem to be meat. He remembers what she was wearing, a too big sweatshirt, and bare legs. He didn't know how she was out there in the October cold like that with nothing on her legs.
He remembers the tattoo of a butterfly on her left calf. It wasn't too big or too small, and it didn't look out of place at all either. He starts to wonder why she has it. There's also a scar near her chin, it's not too big but not too smallâhe wonders how she got it. If it was a freak accident or something with hefty purpose.
He flinches at a sudden voice. It isn't his or hers. It's deep, kind of hoarseâlike they've just woken up. "Jen, c'mon, man. Do you know how cold it is out here? Go put on some damn pants." Steve then recognizes the voice, he has two classes with that voice. It's Eddie Munson, who's on his second year of being a senior. He scares the living shit out of Steve.
The girl, Jen, she rolls her eyes. She gently pets the dog as Eddie towers over them. "I'm fine. I told you to stop babysitting me. I don't need it."
Eddie's jaw sets, it doesn't seem malicious, more so worried and frustratedâlike she's defied him before. "Then where the hell is your sister. Maybe I'll have a word with her."
Apparently Jen's sister is a touchy subject because the girl tenses and stops touching the hungry dog. The small dog looks up at her and her unmoving hand, small puppy eyes begging for more pets. Eddie raises his eyebrows in a knowing manner. Jen stands, arms crossing down her front. "I'll go put on pants."
Eddie sighs, arms crossing over his chest. "Where is your sister, Jen?" The girl looks back at her trailer, her doors wide open and she can still kind of hear her TV and it's static. "I don't know. She didn't come home last night. But it's fine."
Doesn't seem fine.
Eddie grumbles something, about her doing this all the time. Steve barely hears it. But he watches Eddie walk right past the girl, snatching at her hand. He seems to crush her bones in his grasp, and yanks her towards her trailer. That doesn't seem malicious either despite his grip. Jen doesn't seem alarmed, but she turns towards the dog and waves as it stares at her. When her door closes the dog runs off and Steve flinches again, because Violet starts to cry.
His eyes snap to the fussy girl in her car seat, "sorry, V.." He starts to wonder if she's sick and he's just failed to realize this now? Lowen's got to have a thermometer somewhere.
She doesn't. Violet doesn't feel hot and she's fine once she's laying on Lowen's carpet, bear in hands.
Steve Harrington moved to his own devices next to his daughterâhe doesn't forget Jen's face, and he finds her in one of Lowen's year books.
Jen's picture has red X's over her eyes and in Lowen's all capital writing is ALEX'S SISTER! BOO! Steve then finds this so called Alex (he likes to pretend he doesn't know who Alex is), she has a bunch of hearts around her face and a tongue drawn on her tight lip smile.
Steve huffs. Lowen is rude.
Jen Leadison. She's a junior, like Nancy. She's also a cheerleader, like Nancy. It freaks him out much and he shoves the book away.
Lowen is rude.
Little to his knowing, Jen's supposed to be a senior. She's eighteen like him, but she failed eighth grade because she had too many absences. It wasn't her fault, it was her always missing sister and always dead (internally) mom.
(She's actually dead now, though. Figured you'd need to know that for future purposes.)
Hawkins, February 18, 1983
At seventeen, in a trailer park, you figured you'd seen it all. But at eighteen, in a trailer park, you haven't seen it all I suppose.
To open Jen's trailer door you need to slam your shoulder into it as you turn the key. Her left shoulder is bruised from the action, (all blue and purple), so she tries it with her rightâit doesn't work. So, she bruises her left shoulder even more, but the door does open.
Her sister's car isn't in the grass and her mother's car has the hood popped openâthere's tools scattered around the grass in front of the hood and while her door is finally cracked open she doesn't make a move to go inside. She watches Eddie Munson leave his trailer, there's another tool in his hand and he's making a b-line towards her mother's car. Those are his tools fixing her mother's car. Oh my god. He's humming a song she can't recognize and she watches his hair bounce with every step he takes. There's grease on his hands, and on his shirt. It's a white tank, she's never seen him wear one beforeâ a wife beater is what Harris Crowell from across Eddie's trailer calls them. Her mother says he calls them that because he beats his own wife in them. Her sister yelled at her mother for such a comment while Jen stared in shock at the words.
"Jen. Hey." She snaps, she blinks the glass layer on her eyes away. She smiles gently, "Hi, Eddie." He smiles, it's a half smile when only one side goes up. Others would call it a smirk, but Eddie doesn't smirk at Jen. He never smirks at Jen. "Happy birthday." He says gently, but his voice is rough, so it sounds rough, but Jen knows it's supposed to be meant soft. He only talks soft to her and his uncle. "Thank you."
Eddie hums, eyes turning back to the anatomy of her mother's car. She wants to sit out here and watch him, but she knows she can't. Her sister would end her and her mother would make a fuss. "Thanks for fixing her car, again." Eddie looks over his shoulder, "Don't worry about it. Your mom's sweet."
No she's not. She's young for having two kids. Thirty-five. She gets drugs from a guy she has sex with by Lover's Lake. Jen knows her mother has sucked Eddie off once three months after he turned nineteen for twenty bucks from the boy because she needed to buy her kids dinner. But Jen's sure it wasn't just about the twenty bucks.
She just hums, eyes flicking back towards her door. "You should get some degreaser. It should loosen up the knots." She jolts, eyes snapping to him. "What?" Eddie cracks a small smile, not a half one. "For your door. I'm sure Wayne has some somewhere. I can bring it to you tonight if I can find it."
He speaks in tongues. She knows that, she hates that, because there's an underlying message under all his words. "Okay. Thank you, again." Eddie hums, finally turning back to the car. Jen hurries inside, nervous to spend another minute around him. She knows what he does. She knows about the drugs and all the girls that get discounts if they want to rid their pretty skirts and show off their pretty lace bras, and Jen doesn't judge them. If the opportunity arose, she'd do the same. But she never could, as long as her sister was alive. Her sister hates Eddie Munson.
The trailers dead silent.
Jen gently places her bag and keys on the kitchen counter (it wasn't marble but heavy plastic). "Mom?" She knows the woman is home, she's never not home when Jen gets home. "Mom!" No answer. Nothing. The girl sighs, and ventures deeper into the house on cement pavements. She stops in the kitchen, eyes on the burnt looking cake. Happy Birthday J is written in pink frosting, except the birthday is smudged and the frosting tube is on the floor with a glob next to it. She doesn't pick it up though, because her head turns towards the hall.
"Jennifer?" She calls out. It feels weird on her tongue. It's her name and her mother's name. "Mom!"
Her blood flow starts to chunk up and turn cold. She moves towards the hall, hands gliding against the walls. The wallpaper itches her palms. The girl grimaces as she nearly slips. She holds still, eyes casting down and she standing in the smallest amount of water. Her eyes flicker to the right, the bathroom door.
She steps back and her back hits the wall. "Stop it." She whispers, because she knows this isn't a joke. "Jennifer!" She yells again, she gets nothing.
She wishes she never opened that door, but she knew she had to at the end of the day.
Happy Birthday, Jen.
She yells so loud when she does open the door. There's water everywhere. It's about an inch or two on the ground. Her mother's head is hanging off the side of the tub, her skin is paler than the moon and her lips look blue. The water is ice cold and the small bottle of pills is tipped over empty next to the tub. She can barely see through the tears and her mother's hair sticks to her skin horribly. She can see every scar and every tattoo on her bare body. Jen yells again and this time she trips backwards, away from her mother and when she shoves her door open she nearly takes out Eddie.
His eyes are wide, panicked. "Jen? What's wrong!" She just cries and pushes down the steps, she pushes past himâshe's so far away, she's standing in the dirt tracks where the cars drive through. Eddie doesn't send her another glance, he rushes into the home and he doesn't come back out.
She's seen everything at eighteen.