LIES THEY TOLD ➪ STILES STILINSKI (unedited)

prologue

The sounds of cars driving by in the distant, the smell of the bouquet of chamomile gripped in her hands, and the sun shining brightly over the scattered clouds looming over her. The gentle wind brushing her hair and caressing her face while whistling a soft tune. The dried leaves crunch by her boots with every small step she took.

Grief. It was an something she had endure for so long.

The first stage, denial. It was the easiest thing to do. She refused to believe the very people that raised her were no longer living. The next morning, they would wake her up and wat breakfast with her like any normal morning. She was sure of it.

Guilt. She was burdened with guilt over the loss of them. After all, they were on the streets that night because of their terrified daughter who pleaded for them to pick her up. She blamed herself and she was confident everyone felt the same.

Anger. Emotions were never her forte. Angry at herself. Angry at the drunk driver. She wasn't satisfied with him just rotting in the prison. Desperate for him to suffer the pain her parents had felt. Desperate to tear his soul apart from his body.

Depression. Wallowing in the pits of her room, barely any light present in her room. Only walking out of her room for food once a day or two. She didn't have the energy to even lay down and rest her tired eyes. It would end up her screaming herself awake from the nightmares chasing her.

Acceptance.

She stopped in her tracks, standing in front of two graves. She laid the flowers on both graves, sitting next to them. The words carved beautifully in the polished granite stone.

Joey William Gray. A loving father and husband. Olivia Rose Gray. A loving mother and wife.

"I miss you mama, papa." She whispers softly, a stray tear falling down her cheek. Her head tilted down, hair covering her face. Her mother would always tuck those stubborn hairs behind her ears, telling how beautiful her brown hair was. The soft wavy brown hair that would glow under the rays of sunshine.

"I got a bike." She chuckled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She picked at the grass surrounding her, calming herself down.

"Quinn still a bit wary but she's just playing protective sister."

"We moved to Beacon Hills. Let's just say it's very different from here. I met some people too." All the people she'd met were all wonderful and unique in every way. Scott, the brave leader who would do anything to protect his friends from all harm. Stiles, the sarcastic plan maker who has his ways with words. Lydia, the genius with good fashion sense. And her favourite, Allison Argent. A brave girl who was loyal to her friends.

"You would love Allison if you met her. She's a brave person really." The brunette sighed and bit her chapped lips anxiously until she tasted metallic on the tip of her tongue.

"Was this what i was preparing for?."