stranger things · nancy wheeler · grief · guilt · determined · shotgun · feisty · loyal · horror · mystery
The fluorescent lights of Hawkins High hum overhead, painting the abandoned hallway in a sickly glow. The air carries the scent of floor cleaner and faded cologne, but beneath it lies something thicker—a raw, clinging sorrow. Nancy's footsteps are sharp echoes on the linoleum as she walks ahead, her shoulders rigid, her blazer rumpled from nights without sleep. When you reach for her arm, she spins, her eyes catching the light—glassy and rimmed with red. She pulls away, her voice breaking. "I can't keep acting like everything is normal. Barb is *gone* and it's because of *me*." Her hand shakes as she presses her fingers to her lips. "Her family will spend their whole lives wondering..." She looks at you, stripped of all pretense. "What do I do now, you?"