Three. Steve and Violet and the Trailer
Hawkins, 1983, Weeks Later
Steve wants to punch something so badly. And he wants it to be his father's face. (That's not really a new thought.)
Richard Harrington was more than mad knowing a baby was in his life now (again). The fighting in the house had gotten progressively worse; an angry hunger for a rotten situation. They could've been a shitty band, like the Sex Pistols or something?
Violet cried louder; Richard yells louder.
Steve is defeated; Candy is defeated.
Steve groans into his pillow, head pulsing. His ears feel like they're bleeding. He doesn't know what sleep is anymore. His organs are nauseated with all kinds of new stress and anxiety he's never tasted before. Glass shatters downstairs and Violet all but yells in the corner of his bedroom. She has a corner in his room. She has two drawers in his dresser. Sharp edges have been sanded down. He's had to pack away his guitar into the closet. His cigarettes are locked away under his bed.. so are magazines that aren't for young eyes.
Candy had kept her word, she did get everything for the little girl to breathe and blink.
Steve starts his senior year in two days, and still, no one has found out about his child who wasn't made up of love apparently. Tommy H. called here and there, and Carol Perkins always pressed her on and off boyfriend why the leader of their cliché had disappeared for the last half of summer. Tommy H. never knew what to say, but he defended Steveâhe always would, with his life.
Candy yells and her voice cracks towards Richard.
Steve gives up, there's no way he's going back to sleep here. There's no way Violet's going back to sleep either. Steve wonders if she even had been asleep in the first place. He's kicking off his covers with mutters of curses, he barges around for a shirt. Legs clad in black sweats. He can see Violet kick in the corner of his eye. He wants to say something to calm her down, to soothe her, but it still feels odd. It feels wrong.. talking to her. So, with a tired, heavy heart he lets her cry as he hurries high tops on. He doesn't think they match, and the dim night light does no help with seeing them either.
He snatches up his keys and reaches the edge of her crib. Like some kind of magic, once the little girl sees Steve's features and chocolate messy hair she quiets down. Steve can't help but smile small. "Yeah. Hey. It's me again.." He gently scoops her up, her face wet against his neck. "I'll get a quiet pace for you. Promise."
Promise?
His door creaks and he winces at the noise. He winces at every noise now when the small girl is around.
The horror from downstairs doesn't stop, even as he reaches the last step. It's when he passes the kitchen of blood and guts, the silence falls. "Where the hell are you going at this hour." Steve pauses at the heavy voice of his father, he sounds like he could kill. He probably could.
Steve clutches his keys so tight they stab into his palm. His arms are around and holding up the small brunette, she's melted into his shoulder. Cheek smushed to his bone, a bit of baby babble spills onto the cotton of Steve's jumper. The boy spins softly towards his parents, there's a broken wine glass on the floor. A huge splotch of red wine stains the ground like blood.
Steve gently clears his throat. "Um, she can't sleep with the volume.. Gonna take her somewhere quiet." Steve can visibly see the anger disappear from his mother's face. Candy looks down, with a hidden smile at her son's words. He's trying.
But Richard glares harder. "You just don't know how to shut the kid up is the fuckin' problem."
Steve's jaw clenches, and his grip tightens on the girl. Defensive. "She's quiet right now, isn't she?" His voice is laced with venom, and he's shocked at his own tone and words. Candy's eyes widen a little and her gaze snaps to her husband, Richard pushes forward. Steve steps back, Violet pressed to his chest. "What the hell did you just say to me!"
While Richard's voice booms, Steve winces as Violet breaks out into a cry like it's her favorite song. Richard kind of gasps at the cries. Candy scoffs, "look at that. You're the problem!" Richard gives a look of great hatred towards the little girl in his son's arms, his granddaughter.
As Richard turns back towards his wife, ready to tussle with their words and anger againâSteve books it.
This is the first time he's left the house with the little girl since having her, and he's suddenly panicked. What if someone from school sees him? At this hour? Come on, man.. But still? There's always a possibility! Steve tries to hide the crying girl in the shadows of the night, he shushes her gently and to his surprise she quiets down. Soft sniffles as he clips her into the car seat in the back of his car.
Little does he realize the entire drive he's peaking back into the rear view mirror to make sure she's okay.
They end up at Forest Hills: Home of Lowen Odette's trailer, where she use to live with her mother. They just left it how it was, didn't even sell it. Lowen went to college and her mother went back to jail. The trailer was empty and quiet.
Steve didn't like Forest Hills. Still doesn't.
It wasn't the people or their lifestyles, the place just freaked him out. He hated how the whole trailer park was surrounded by just woods. At the start of his junior year, this girl Melody Roberts lived at the trailer parkâshe always said she heard girls singing in the woods every night at one in the morning. She said they always sounded in pain. And three months after Melody said that she died, she rammed her car into one of trees by her trailerâat one a.m.
She wasn't drunk or high. The car just swerved.
Makes no sense.
Everyone has their opinions on that. Steve isn't one to believe in supernatural stuff, but that story always bothered him. It just didn't make fucking sense. Melody was happy, contentâshe wouldn't just ram her car into a tree.
Steve has a key to Lowen's trailer. He'd never thought he'd need it. He's never had to use it before. She was always at his house and under his window.
The trailer smells like flowers and weed. His nose twitches, features screwing up. "Jesus Christ.." The boy sighs and closes the door, it's a heavy noise. Both him and Violet flinch. He winces in fear she'll cry, "sorry, Violet.."
Her small chubby hands just messes with the ends of his untamed hair. She doesn't pull at it like he fears. His honeycomb eyes float around, taking in his surroundings. There's a decent looking couch. He could sleep there? Though, his eyes linger down the hall. Lowen's bedroom. Steve fights back a sadden frown, his head turns lightly. The tip of his nose bumps into Violet's temple, "I don't know what I'm doing, Violet. I'm sorry about that.."
Her fingers just poke at his jaw and he feigns a small smile. "Thanks, Violet. Appreciate it."
He's moving down the hall before he can call it quits and head for the couch. Lowen's door is cracked open, the tip of his shoe pushes it open all the way. His breath hitchesâit's so Lowen. He could gag and cry and gag and cry. He hates her so much. But he misses her so much.
It's a first type of love thing, no?
His eyes first catch sight of an unboxed baby crib, there's a note attached to the box. For your little one, super excited! - Mama
Steve can't help his heart clench, Lowen's mother was excited for this baby. Steve steps away from the untouched box, eyes swaying around. He can tell Violet's getting a little antsy, she's babbling out noises that don't sound too content.
Steve moves towards Lowen's bed, pocketing his keys. His now free hand pushes on Lowen's bed, it's lumpy and creaks. Steve sighs as he gathers up a small fort of protection pillows, Violet goes right in the middle perfectly. She hums, eyes fluttering as her fingers grasp the air. Steve's shoulders deflate as he looks at the little girl, he toes off his shoes and sinks to the carpet flooring. His hand drapes over the pillows and Violet finds his thumb with ease. He still grimaces at the feeling of her small wet mouth. His head rests against the edge of Lowen's bed, it smells like her.
His jaw clenches and he screws his eyes shut, tears threatening the cracks. He's balled up on the floor like a child. Steve's the one sniffing now. Kids are a forever thing, Steve truthfully didn't plan making it past twenty five. "We got this, Violet. I think.."
He starts his senior year in less than two days now. Does he really have this?