so•ber
/ ˈsōbər /
Not affected by alcohol; not drunk.
Everyone talks about the common effects of drugs and alcohol. The difference from being sober, drunk, or high. Sure, it's hard to stop drinking. Sure, it's hard to quit smoking. It's hard to g...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I left my memories behind in search of freedom, but they still follow me as I walk towards the future. Dark thoughts of a different life, where dreams spend their days in a cage and love is nothing but pain." - Christy Ann Martine ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm not sure what's going on. Honestly, I haven't been involved in the talk around the pack or the talk among adults. I'm currently seated in the police station considering my legal guardian is being held in a jail cell down the hall. I'm not eighteen yet.
It's been a couple hours since the incident at the animal clinic so the station is still destroyed. Well, part of it. The cells aren't. I've been trying to occupy my thoughts but it's hard. I've been blurring out the sounds of people talking and even when people say my name it doesn't register immediately. I don't feel like Holland. I'm not really sure who I am. I feel like I literally crawled out of my skin and now I'm just a pretty face with a chaotic mind. I can't think straight. And I feel like this is only the beginning.
I heard a clap which caught my attention. I looked up to see Noah standing in front of me with a solemn expression. He seemed really upset but I wasn't sure why. I hadn't seen Stiles since the clinic either. I've heard that he's back to normal but how do we know that? What if that serum didn't work? They wouldn't let me see him. They think it would be better to keep us seperated.
I squinted my eyes on the sheriff and tried to focus on when I saw his mouth moving. But I just shook my head and looked away. I couldn't hear him right now. I stared at the desk behind him for a good two minutes before I heard him scream my name. And no, I'm not exaggerating. I don't think I've ever heard him yell that loud. Not even at Stiles. My head snapped to face him and his expression softened.
"Let's go see Derek." He said. I nodded slowly and he held out a hand. I took it without question and stood. He led me to the back room that held the cells. I saw Derek and Chris in one cell, but Chris was sitting in the back and Derek was holding onto the bars desperately.
I stared at his shoes and heard him say my name a few times but I couldn't look at him. I could hear mumbles of the sheriff's voice but I shook my head again. I couldn't hear them clearly. I heard words here and there, like Stiles, or sign, and house. I heard one phrase about signing papers and I assumed Noah was talking to Derek.
"Holland, are you sure this is what you want?" Derek asked me. I furrowed my eyebrows, I wasn't sure what he was talking about but if the sheriff was okay with it then I'm assuming I should be too. I nodded my head slowly agreeing to something I selfishly hoped would benefit me. "She only stays there a few days." Derek insisted. I heard a pen scribble against the paper a few times and could hear broken mumbles again.
"She'll be okay at Eichen House." My body tensed at the sheriff's statement. Suddenly everything in my mind was clear and I could hear and somewhat think clearly. Eichen House? What the fuck did I just agree to? I swore to myself I would never go to another place with the name Eichen in it again. I can't go there. But legally I have to now. Oh my god.
