The sunlight was dying as Daisy Lonsdale and Dottie Fields followed Jonathan Byers home that day. The teenagers had agreed to speak privately at his house, Dottie growing very worried that the families had some rabid animal circling their houses. After helping the poor boy gather the remaining pieces of his photographs off the carpark asphalt, they had decided it would be best to comfort him by spending the afternoon with him, considering everything he was going through right now.

The colours of fall blurred by the windows of the truck; orange and browns and it almost soothed Daisy's chaotic mind just watching the colours create a blurry image. The girls hadn't spoken about what had happened in the carpark with Steve Harrington. Dottie had kept shooting her friend little looks on the ride to the Byers house, hoping Daisy would say something, but the girl was too stubborn. "So, what actually happened back at school with Steve?"

"He was being a jerk," Daisy shrugged her shoulders, chewing on her bottom lip and tasting the horrible coppery taste of blood on her tongue. "You saw it, he smashed Jonathan's camera."

Dottie gave a vague nod. "I know that much. The busted camera was pretty evident. I mean, what happened when he walked away? I heard him say, you used to enjoy his company or something. What's that all about?"

The very question halted Daisy's thought process, her heart sinking in her chest. When Marigold had befriend Steve Harrington, they used to spend quite a lot of time around the house together. Her mother used to encourage the friendship, pleased Marigold was fitting in so well with a family that was quite respected in town. Between movie marathons and outings with Carol and Tommy H. Steve would somehow find himself in Daisy's bedroom, admiring her artwork on the walls and asking questions about what bands she liked or what movie she thought was cool. They had somewhat been friends, but not really. One night Daisy had joined them in the basement to watch Swamp Thing. Although, Marigold had abandoned them half way through the movie, faking she needed to call somebody on the landline. That night Daisy had nested herself beside Steve, a bowl of popcorn between them and her cheeks quite flushed with how close he actually was. That night could have been the start of something, but things crumbled a few weeks later when Marigold ran away and Steve lied about it.

"It's nothing," Daisy muttered out, trying to forget the good memories. Dottie yanked on the handbrake, the truck coming to the stop outside the Byers house, which looked less creepy in the daylight. "It's ancient history, actually."

Dottie was not so sure about that, but let the subject go. The girls hurried out of the car together, walking across the dirt and dry grass towards the porch. Daisy had noticed where somebody had attempted to clean up the smashed casserole last night, ants littering the very spot now. Jonathan was giving the girls a tight smile, not sure why they wanted to talk so privately. They had mentioned an animal that had spooked them, but he couldn't understand why it was so important. "Mum's been a bit...well, unstable since Will." he confessed, a little embarrassed about the girls being here. 

"Hey, it's understandable." Daisy assured him.

He gave a brief nod of his head before pushing open his front door. The three Hawkins teens inched into the dark house and found a rather surprising sight. "It's a little early for Christmas, don't you think?" Daisy blurted out.

Dottie was sending her friend an alarmed look, for Dottie had always been taught to be polite. "I think it's festive."

Jonathan wasn't even paying much attention to the girls now, his heart heavy in his chest suddenly. The entire house was filled with hanging Christmas lights, all blinking quite strangely. His mother, Joyce, was sitting on the low couch, looking quite distraught. He was dumping his bag by the door and rushing to her side. Daisy waited in the living room, eyeing the mess of tangled lights. The eldest Byers boy was trying to comfort his mother, but it wasn't really working, the woman muttering about Will trying to communicate with her through the lights.

Suddenly, a ringing was flooding the quite house. Nobody moved, not even Joyce Byers, who was currently too stuck in her own mind to realise her surroundings.

Without thinking, Daisy moved towards the landline. "Anybody gonna' get that?"

Jonathan didn't even look away from his mother and unsurely, Daisy was picking up the yellow phone and pressing the earpiece to her ear. There was a strange crackling on the other side of the line and what could have been heavy breathing. "Hello? Byers residence."

The crackling continued to flare, no words actually being very clear. Daisy was turning to glance at her friend who was poking at a bunch of lights, a little distracted with the mess. Daisy was already growing irritated when a weird screaming sounded through the phone, the very same sound she had heard last night. Within a quick second, an electrical charge hissed through the phone and zapped her. "Son of a bitch!"

"Will!" Joyce Byers was suddenly shouting out, the Christmas lights flickering once again. The tiny woman had sprung up from her seat, a wild look in her dark eyes. Dottie was already jumping in her skin with the sudden movement. The woman grabbed a tangled ball of lights, holding it close to her face. Jonathan watched in mild horror, pain shooting through his heart with his mother's strange actions.

The boy was already turning towards the girls, "I think you should leave."

Daisy was already protesting, "Wait, your phone just zapped the hell out of me and—"

Hastily, Dottie Fields was pulling on her friend's wrist and making a quick escape from the chaos. She was humming out a reply, promising to catch him at school tomorrow and talk privately there and mentioning she would get her mother to retrieve the casserole dish another time. The front door slammed shut loudly, Dottie letting out a little yelp while she hurried down the front steps. Daisy whirled back around to face the house, watching the lights flicker crazily inside once again. "That was crazy," she gushed out madly. "Right? Like horror movie, somebody's completely bonkers."

"Let's just go," Dottie squeaked out.

The young Lonsdale girl climbed back into the truck and when she reached for the seatbelt, she realised her hands were shaking. Dottie Fields was cursing under her breath, swearing she was totally done with that house and the stupid lights. When they finally pulled out of the Byers makeshift driveway, Daisy turned to her friend. "I heard that sound again through the phone. The same one we heard last night. That's weird, right?"

Her friend didn't glance away from the road, too worked up. "Okay, I've had enough. I am officially done with all this strange shit. Whatever is going on, it has nothing to do with me. We're done with all of whatever this is..." Dottie said, tying to convince herself but sadly, this was just the beginning of all the strange shit in Hawkins.

***

Chilly air blew through Daisy Lonsdale's window that night, her lace curtains fluttering in the wind. The nightlife was strangely quiet, almost like the creatures of the night knew something terrible was indeed about to occur. Although, the freshly showered Daisy didn't know that. She was settled on her bed and naturally, her sketchbook was fanned before her fingertips. She was lost in a world of daydream, the delicate touch of her pencil dancing across the page like this was her calling, the gift the heavens had blessed her with. Drawing was the one place her heart didn't ache and the world outside wasn't calling her name. When she was creating, it was just her and the art. Nothing clouding her soul. Nothing destroying her calmness.

A knock on her bedroom door spooked her. "Daisy, sweetie, can we speak?" Molly Lonsdale hovered in her daughter's doorway and it was an odd sight indeed. Daisy's mother had not stood in her bedroom threshold looking guilty hearted in a very long time. The very glassy look in her mother's eyes had Daisy's interest rising and without a word, she was making room on her bed.

The two Lonsdale women had been on seperate pages for a long while now. Ever since Marigold had left Hawkins, they had clashed terribly. Usually, it was Marigold going up against her mother because they shared the same soul, a very restless soul that screamed perfection, but in different ways. Daisy had always been glad she didn't have the same heart as her mother or sister because it allowed them to get on better, but lately, that had not been the case. Daisy had taken the role of clashing with her dear mother and with the recent events, Daisy was seeing her mother in a different light, one she was not sure she liked. "I know things have been very difficult lately," Molly Lonsdale started softly, her hands running down her skirt and lowering her thin frame to the bed. Her eyes roamed the bedroom, taking in the walls covered in art. The pink wallpaper could not been seen with the amount of drawings and the odd posters of bands Daisy liked. "I know we've been...distant."

"Is this about the strange conversations you've been having with Aunt Beatrice?" Daisy randomly asked while pushing herself into a sitting position. She had not been able to get the hushed words about Duncan Downings from her head lately, nothing really making sense. With the startled look in her mother's eyes, Daisy realised it was indeed about that. "I overheard you the other day upstairs and then today with that article in the newspaper. What's going on?"

Molly Lonsdale heaved out a sigh, her gaze dropping to her lap. "We don't talk about your cousin, it's very hard on your aunt. You don't know the full story, nobody really does, because your grandfather covered it up." Daisy frowned with the comment about her grandfather, Fredrick Lonsdale, a man she didn't see too often. He lived in the fancy estate Loch Nora and they visited him maybe twice a year. "It wasn't an accident, Daisy. Your uncle was driving under the influence and he was a troubled man. He was going to leave Beatrice and take Duncan with him."

"Why?"

Her mother cleared her throat, "Your aunt made mistakes back then, she got caught up in weird experimental trails that paid her to try out new drugs and different procedures. Eventually, she got out before her life was poisoned." Molly paused again, "Duncan was born about a year after, he was a beautiful boy with golden hair and chubby cheeks...but Gregory started drinking from the stress of fatherhood and he became hostile. He wanted to move back to Portland, but Beatrice wouldn't leave Kentucky, already too far from home. They weren't happy people back then and it just got toxic and one night, drunk and furious, Gregory up and left with Duncan. He ran off the road and went straight into the riverbank. They were killed instantly."

Daisy felt this hot ache in her chest. She had never met her cousin, born around the same time he had died at the hand of his father's drunken mistakes. "Why would grandad cover that up?" she asked quietly.

"Your grandfather is a man prided on his image," her mother replied softly. "He couldn't have the town believing his eldest daughter had been pumped with drugs, turning her mind sour while his son-in-law fell into the depths of alcohol. He didn't want scandal ruining his status in town, so he paid off the police and made it look like an accident."

A few things fell into the puzzle that had been building in Daisy's mind. It seemed, Molly Lonsdale was exactly like her father, groomed to be perfect from the moment she could talk. One thing still didn't add into that puzzle though. "Why does Aunt Beatrice still think Duncan's alive though?"

Molly finally looked over at her daughter, seeing herself in her eyes. "Aunt Beatrice went mad with grief, maybe somewhat blaming herself for what had happened in a way. She was convinced Duncan's body wasn't his own and blamed your grandfather and men from that stupid experimental trail for covering up the deaths. She wasn't in her right mind and she's never recovered from the trauma...she's delusional, Daisy. She's still stuck in the past and can't move on with her life. She told Marigold about her crazy theories and pushed your sister away."

Tears blinked in Daisy's eyes with the mention of her sister. "Marigold was restless, she always had been, you know that. She didn't want to be stuck in a life like this. She didn't want to become like your aunt or like me. She left because Hawkins couldn't give her something she wanted." Her mother let her hand rest over Daisy's lightly. "I've already lost one daughter, please, Daisy, I don't want to lose another one because of that restlessness that sits in all Lonsdale women. I can't lose you."

For days now, Daisy had been holding tightly onto false hope. In her mind, she was coming to the conclusion that the weird conversations she had overheard, along with the pain that had never creased to fade in her heart about Marigold, had been something more. She was almost convinced that there was indeed a mystery to solve, but she was wrong. Her Aunt Beatrice had been through something horrific, leaving her broken in so many ways. Marigold had fled a life she never wanted in order to actually become somebody else. She couldn't turn out like her mother or aunt, lonely and broken and stuck. That was the story and all this time, Daisy was trying to fill the hole of abandonment in her heart with nonsense too. Eventually, she had to let go and move on with her life or she'd become just like her aunt.

Daisy's bottom lip trembled with emotion, tears gathering in her eyes. "I won't leave, mum." Her voice was slick with pain and regret. She had been so naive in thinking all these unsolved questions would lead to something, but in reality, she was just gasping for clues that clearly were not there to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Daisy." her mother cried out quietly, tears smudged down her cheeks and her makeup ruined and in that moment of pure clarity, Daisy could actually see the pain her mother had been hiding, always trying to be like her father and be perfect. "I'm sorry for everything."

Daisy nodded. "Me too."

After the teary confession, Molly Lonsdale left her daughter alone with her thoughts. The wind blew a little harder through the open window, chilling Daisy's bones, but she didn't mind tonight because she felt numb anyway. Trying to clear her mind, she pulled her sketchbook back towards her and flipped over the page. She saw the tiny ripped pieces of paper in the margin again. She couldn't recall tearing out a page, but pushed the thoughts away because she just wanted to draw away her pain. She yanked out her pencil and let the lead swiftly outline a figure. Suddenly, the lead hovered over an imprint on the paper. Daisy was frowning slightly, before scurrying towards her box full of different art supplies. She pulled out a fat chunk of lead and was pushing it against the imprint on the page. Slowly, words appeared on the page, words that somebody had written down on the page before and ripped out while leaving a hidden message behind.

And if, you don't love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain

Daisy stared at the words for a little moment, stuck in her mind. Nobody ever touched her sketchbook because it was private and because she kept it close to her at all times. Her family knew how important her art was and never went against her pleas to look at it without asking first. Which meant whoever had left the words, knew Daisy would find them eventually when she reached the very last page. Suddenly, her heart was thumping loudly in her chest and something she had just let slip away was creeping back into her chest. Hope. Because there was only one person in the world that would leave behind a message of lyrics for her and that was Marigold Lonsdale.