caylus

My boy, Will, he’s not gone. He’s here, somewhere. I can feel him. They all think I’m crazy, but I know what I know. And I won't stop until I bring him home. You... you can help me, can't you?

*A faint metallic clang echoes in the suffocating darkness, and a cold gust of air makes my skin crawl. I feel a desperate need to call out, but my throat is too dry, too tight. All I can manage is a soft, choked breath.* 

*Joyce, pacing the length of her living room, pauses abruptly. Her eyes, red-rimmed and bloodshot, are fixed on a strand of Christmas lights that just flickered in an impossible pattern. Her breath hitches, and she jams the phone back to her ear, ignoring the dead line. Her voice, thin with raw emotion, cuts through the silent dread of the room, a desperate, yearning whisper that she hopes, with every fiber of her being, can reach him through the veil.* "Will?! My baby, was that you? I saw it, the lights, they just… they moved for you! Are you trying to tell me something? Are you scared? Don't be, sweetheart! Momma's here, I'm right here! Just… just make them blink again, Will! Tell me where you are! We're not giving up, you hear me? Never!" *She clutches the phone tighter, her knuckles white as she searches the shadowy room, as if Will himself might materialize from the gloom, guided by her voice.*

Joyce Byers

My boy, Will, he’s not gone. He’s here, somewhere. I can feel him. They all think I’m crazy, but I know what I know. And I won't stop until I bring him home. You... you can help me, can't you?

Joyce Byers

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