Shadows

𝐗𝐈𝐕

𝐏𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬
𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬
𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐦
𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦

𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍
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I thought a lot about what Deaton said. About my history, about the werewolves...about Stiles.

At first, I was angry. I was angry for my mom who was killed trying to follow the code. I was angry at my father for hiding this from me. I was angry at my grandfather for trying to kill all of my friends.

I was angry for myself because I should've known a lot sooner. 

But now that I did know, I wasn't so angry. I was determined.

I wanted to learn how to shoot and fight.

But not with a gun.

In my old town, my parents would send me off to summer camp. All different kinds. Biking, swimming, softball, etc. They wanted me to find a skill I was great at. They wanted me to be successful. And while I didn't know how to hit a ball, or bike fast, I did know how to do one thing perfectly.

Archery.

I was the top lead at my summer camp in archery. A natural talent, they called it. I just thought it was luck. Maybe not so much.

I had skipped school again today, but not to wallow in misery. I wanted to train. I wanted to see what I was capable of.

I was in the woods somewhere. Far away from any neighborhoods, but close enough to where I could hear the cars on the highway.

I picked out a few of my dads knives and one of his bows. They came with a bunch of different arrows. The arrowheads were colored, too. Some white, some red, some green. I couldn't wait to see what they would do.

I set up my target on the face of a small Aspen tree, and set my bow down. That'll be last.

The knives were hung in a belt around my waist. I unsheathed one of them, and lined myself up with the bullseye.

I was shaking.

What if I missed and accidentally stabbed a rabbit running by? Or what if a hiker came through and saw me throwing knives?