#cupofstcrs

                   𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘  𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃  𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃  ,   excitedly  clutching  her  freshly  printed  article  .   index  finger  jabs  to  her  name  on  the  page  :   ELIZABETH  COOPER  .   “  look  !   that’s  me  .   i’m  elizabeth  cooper  .   i  wrote  this  ,   and  now  everyone  will know  .  ”   she’s  beaming  ,   PROUD  of  herself  .   

                   𝐇𝐄'𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐓  𝐇𝐄𝐑  ,   eyes  wide  and  glasses  slipping  down  the  bridge  of  his  nose  .   one  finger  is  pointing  to  an  entry  in  a  book  ,  the  other  scratching  at  the  side  of  his  head  .   “  wait  —  ”   shaking  his  head  ,   tapping  the  page  aggressively  .   “  this  was  a  NIGHTMARE  .   someone  dreamt  this  stuff  up  .   it  isn’t  real  .   vampires  aren’t  real  .  ”

                   𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓  𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  ;   there  never  is  .   but  still  ,   in  this  tiny  shop  ,   browsing  the  vinyl  collection  ,   he  feels  like  he’s  being  WATCHED  .   hazel  eyes  search  the  aisles  ,  landing  on  someone  that  seems  friendly  .   “  do  you  feel  that  ?   or  am  i  just  losing  my  mind  ?   ”   oh  ,   he  hasn’t  explained  himself  ,   has  he  ?   “  it  just  always  feels  like  someone’s  lurking  .   please  tell  me  that  isn’t  just  me  .  ”

he’s been inspecting her not so conspicuously, for too long. hand on chin, squinting, it’s love. but there’s no way. when he looks at this woman, he feels nothing. he recognizes her, but there’s no emotional attachment that suggests that is his beloved and psychotic twin sister. maybe, when he discovered all of the terrible things his sister & her lover had done, the bond had been broken. or maybe it’d broken when he had died. forty doesn’t know. he just knows that is his sister. if forty is anything, he is impulsive. for someone who preaches about spirituality & chakras & knowing yourself & feeling yourself, forty doesn’t really follow his own advice. so he rushes to her side, fingers grasping at her arm as he tugs her aside, saying in a hushed tone, "love? what are you doing here?”

junior doesn’t know what he expects to find in the cornfields of castle rock as the sun goes down. he should be looking for a job, getting caught up on sleep, or driving back to chester’s mill to get in contact with his dad. instead, he is here, stopped in his tracks as he stares at another. “what the hell did you just do?” he asks, alarmed but unafraid as he moves towards them. he’s done this so many times, junior’s almost expecting to get nothing in return.