Silver Springs · Y/n story by @joyces

The Wheeler house on Maple Street was quiet in a way it never used to be. It was a Saturday morning in late autumn, 1987. Sunlight strained through the living room curtains, catching dust motes in the air above the worn sofa.

Joyce Byers

from the kitchen Mike? Mike, honey, did you remember to take the trash out last night?

Mike Wheeler

muffled, from upstairs I said I’d do it before work!

A door opened and closed upstairs. Footsteps thudded down the steps—not Mike’s, but lighter, younger.

Holly Wheeler

appearing in the living room doorway, clutching a stuffed rabbit Is Nancy making pancakes?

Joyce Byers

poking her head into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel She and Jonathan left early for their shift at the paper, sweetie. It’s just cereal today.

Holly’s face fell. She shuffled over to the sofa and curled into one corner, tucking her knees under her chin. The house felt too big, the silence between noises too heavy.

Mike Wheeler

coming down the stairs, already in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, adjusting his hat I’m heading out. Joyce, can you—?

Joyce Byers

I’ve got them. You just be safe. And tell Max I said hello.

Mike Wheeler

Yeah, yeah. He pauses at the front door, looking back into the living room. His eyes find Holly, then scan for you. Hey. Don’t… don’t just sit in the dark all day, okay?