𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘃𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗻𝘁

Stitch Yourself Together

TW:
Slight suicidal thoughts / acts and a tiny but of abuse is talked about in this part. I do not take these topics lightly, and will not romanticize them. I'm always here if you need to talk.

You know that feeling you get when you have a dream where you fall? And then right before your body hits the ground, you jump awake, drenched in sweat and breathing heavy? Well that was how it was for me, except my body hit the ground.

I was with Scott and Stiles, ice skating. For some reason, I suddenly forgot all knowledge of how to do it. I lost control of my movements and flew backwards. It was at normal speed but I watched everything happen in slow motion. My back hit the ice before my head did, taking all of the breath out of me, just like the night in the woods. My head quickly followed and promptly knocked me out as it hit the ice.

Once I woke up, still lying in the ice, people were standing over me. Stiles and Scott were saying the same things that they said to me after the attack. The panic was still in their voice as they sobbed and screamed. People crowded over my body, horrified when they got a good look. All I did was hit my head, I thought, am I bleeding or something? The tightness in my chest was still apparent, creating this awful burning sensation.

The burning is what woke me up.

Just as described, my body jumped up, but the sensation of the dream didn't leave. I looked down at my chest in the open hospital gown, and realized that the burning was my skin - desperately trying to stitch itself back together.

I let out a wince as I pulled my arm off of the bed, analyzing the thousands of small black stitches covering it. My weak hand carefully lifted the blanket and gown off of my skin, to see that the majority of my body was covered in bandages. I didn't bother to lift them, I did not want to see what my skin looked like.

My head turned to the left to see a familiar face in the room. "Hi Lydia." The reach out the palm of my hand, which is the only part the remained in tact.

"Hey Mae." She softly smiles while she traces the lines on the palm of my hand with her pointer finger. Her eyes aren't meeting mine, and I know she's trying to hide the puffy-ness on her face. "I told your friends they can come in here when you wake up. Do you want me to get them and leave?"

"Yes get them, but don't leave for too long, okay?"

"Ok." She lets out a soft whisper and quietly leaves the room, making sure not to slam the door behind her.

I try my best to listen in on their conversation.

"She's awake, but she isn't doing well. The doctors say she has been in and out of consciousness, but this is the most awake I've seen her."

"Why isn't she healing?" Scott whispers to Stiles.

Lydia overhears, "because she isn't letting herself."

"What?" Scott and Stiles turn to Lydia, obviously worried she might know about the supernatural.

"When we were younger, she used to do this thing. If she did something that she thought would get her in trouble, and then happened to fall and hurt herself, she wouldn't tell people she got hurt. Like once, she accidentally stole a candy from the convenient store. The next day she fell while riding her scooter and scraped her knee. She didn't tell anyone that she got hurt, and let it get so infected that our parents had to buy her antibiotics." Lydia explains.