Chapter Text
The wind was blasting its cruel whistling song during the fall of 61’ in Hawkins, Indiana. The cry of the tree branches protested its wrath. The windows were forced to dance against the pane. A fog had smothered Hawkin’s Sky and Joyce Horowitz was sure it never left since that day. October 12th. A date that was carved into her mind. A date that was carved into stone. The day that the wind stole the town of Hawkins. The day the town stole her brother’s life.
Although she remembered the fog and the wind, she couldn’t remember much else from that day. It was like the curtains had been drawn over her eyes and left her in darkness. Her mother’s tear stained face was still a prominent picture; the words she said were muffled in Joyce’s memory. Just a ringing in her ears as if a bomb had exploded right in her home. And she supposed it had.
On October 12th 1961, Johnathan Raymond Horowitz died from a drug overdose at 19 years old. No matter how much Susan, their mother, tried to convince herself it was an accident, there was really no two ways about it. Johnny had committed suicide. A bottle of empty aspirin in his palm. His head smashed against the side of the tub. A seizure. No note. No reason. No goodbye. Just gone.
Gone. Gone. Gone. Those words looped tauntingly around her mind for weeks after. Every time she woke from a dream, she entered into her nightmare. A crushing weight on her chest when she remembered. Johnny was gone. He was just there though, just speaking to her in her dreams. She could smell him, feel him, hear him. At least, she imagined she could. Because the truth of the matter was, she’d near be able to do those things again. No more late night conversations over unfiltered cigarettes in the backyard after her parents had fallen asleep. No more teasing at the breakfast table about her on-and-off again boyfriend, Lonnie. No more ‘goodnight’s. No more ‘good morning’s. No more tomorrow. No more Johnny.
Due to the circumstance, and her parents liberal religious beliefs, the family opted against sitting shiva. Most, if not all, of Hawkins were Christian, Susan, her mother, didn’t want to make them ‘uncomfortable.’ Joyce thought it was pathetic to compromise for these superficial people, but didn’t care to protest. Johnny didn’t believe in anything anyway. He wouldn’t have wanted it.
Instead, dressed in black, a very small portion of the already small town surrounded a casket as it was lowered into the ground. Joyce’s stomach turnt when she thought of her brother’s body laying there. Her gut told her to scream, told her to get him out before he’s buried in there forever. Thankfully, logic won out. She instead sobbed into her handkerchief and clasped her mother’s arm for dear life.
Suicide wasn’t a common cause of death in Hawkins, in fact she believed it may have been ranked lower than an animal attack, maybe even random combustion. The town didn’t know how to handle it. The religious nuts had their views, of course. Many didn’t attend, but sent an assortment of flowers in their absence. It’s not like she noticed who wasn’t there anyway. Her focus lay more so on who had made the effort to attend. One person in particular caught her eye...Jim Hopper.
Jim lived next door, had been there before they moved here in 1950. From what Johnny had said before this tragedy struck, he was fond of Hopper. Joyce couldn’t wrap her head around why, necessarily. They were polar opposites. Jim was a popular kid, had more friends than he had sense. A mischievous teenage who still managed to get good grades. He was on the wrestling team, even once was head of Debate. A ladies man, specifically Chrissy Carpenter’s man. The superficial barbie doll whom Joyce despised. For those reasons, she wasn’t as fond of ol’ Jimmy boy.
If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t dislike Jim- there were a few times he had shown her that there was more to him than meets the eye- but it was principle that she couldn’t like him. Lonnie and Jim were rivals, had been since the 7th grade. As loyalty to her man, despite his lack thereof to her, she couldn’t fraternise with the enemy. On the day of Johnny’s funeral though, that was the last thing on her mind.
She couldn’t be sure how long she was sitting there, completely disassociating from her surroundings, but the presence of someone beside her drew her back to reality. To her surprise, Jimmy Hopper slunk down on her couch in his black suit and tie. He didn’t look at her, just stared ahead into the sea of people floating around her living room.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about your loss, Joycie.”
If she wasn’t so numb, she’d have probably laughed at the use of her familial nickname. No one but her parents and Johnny called her Joycie, and if they did she’d usually smack em upside the head. She didn’t have the energy for that today. She’d let him off this time.
Glancing at the side of his face, she was taken aback when she noticed the sincerity that resided in his hard eyes. They seemed regretful, pained even, to have to be saying those words. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His hands clasped between his long legs. She had never seen him like this before.
When she didn’t respond, he leant forward. For a moment she thought he was going to get up and leave her, but instead he took a deep breath.
“Johnny is- Johnny was one of the best guys this town had to offer.” His long began to bounce nervously. “Of course, you already knew that.”
This caught Joyce’s full attention, her body turning to face the lanky teenage boy. Her brows furrowed as her eyes roamed his face, trying to gauge whether this was genuine or just some sort of scripted condolence that everyone gave at funerals. The tight set of his jaw and the heaviness of his eyes suggested the former.
“How do you- wait- what makes you say that?” Joyce shook her head. “I’ve never seen you say more than a coupla words to Johnny.”
Jim laughed despite himself, sparing her a sideways glance. “Of course not, you’re too busy with your greas- your boyfriend. Johnny and I share smokes in the backyard.”
It was a strange concept, her brother and Jim Hopper sitting on their back porch passing a smoke back and forth. Johnny was anti-social to his core. What possessed him to speak to the larger than life kid sat beside her was beyond her,
Joyce’s neck reeled back, not sure she could believe what she was hearing. “You...and Johnny?”
A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, finally turning to face her. “Yeah, Johnny. Something about talking with a person late at night really helps you get to know em, huh?”
Joyce smiled at this, despite the pain in her chest, understanding it all too well. If it wasn’t for her brother’s erratic sleeping habits, she wasn’t sure they’d be as close as they were. At night Johnny appeared to be most alive. He’d teach her about the constellations, reminisce on their past, share secrets. God, it hurt to think about it. But it was kinda comforting knowing someone else was going to be missing that too.
Before Joyce could respond, Lonnie entered the house. Not only was he late, he turned up wearing a leather jacket and black jeans, she almost rolled her eyes. She supposed It was better late than never. Without another word, Jim stood up from the couch, knowing it was best Lonnie didn’t see them talking together. Before he could walk away, Joyce delicately took hold of his wrist.
Slightly taken aback, he turned to look down at her expectantly.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Jim.”