Keeper (Teen Wolf/The Archived/Isaac Lahey) WATTYS 2017

Chapter 4 - 'I am a ghost.'

I grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria and paid for it. Turned out that the line wasn't that long, after all.

Looking around, I noticed Lydia waving me over to her and Allison's table before a sensed someone creep up behind me.

Before he had a chance to grope me, I grabbed his arm and twisted it, hard. He yelped as he tried to grab his nearly broken arm but it didn't match my irritation at his sound.

Crazyassbitchbrokemyfuckthisarmhotthoughwhyfailedembarassing.

I let go of his arm with a fierce drop before whispering in his ear.

"Sorry, dude but it's not your lucky day; you picked the wrong person to mess with."

Looking up, I saw all the people in the cafeteria glancing at my direction. I sighed as I scanned the crowd. Barely, I noticed that Isaac had turned away from us and exited the cafeteria.

"Woah, the new girl could handle herself."

"What the hell?"

"Badass."

Frowning, I passed Lydia's table ang said a quick: "Talk to you later." Before leaving the cafeteria as well, sandwich still in hand.

~•~•~•~~•~•~•~

I found Isaac on the bleachers outside, the ones by the side of the lacrosse? Yeah, I think it was lacrosse.---Field.

I literally don't understand any sport, but I haven't actually watched a lacrosse game so who knows?

"Hey." I greeted cheerfully and he jumped as I took a seat beside him. "What are you doing here?" He asked and I faked hurt.

"Is that your way of telling me to leave?" I told him. "Harsh." He blushed.

"I-It's not that. I'm glad you're actually talking to someone like me." I looked at him confused.

"What do you mean by 'someone like you'?" I asked and he sighed.

"Let's put it this way, you could easily be sitting in tables with people like Allison and Lydia but instead, here you are. With me." He stated, mulling over his words. "Does that even make any sense?"

"Has it ever occurred to you that I actually want to be here? Right now? With you?" I told him and he shook his head in disbelief.

"It doesn't work that way."

"Then tell me, how does it work?" I challenged and he looked away and smiled.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"Forget it."

I smiled. "Ok." Taking a bite at my sandwich, I took a look at him. I mean, really took a look at him.

His blue eyes were surrounded by dark rings, his skin was pale and it wasn't the fair pale, it was the sickly pale, his hair was a bit disheveled. All in all,

He looked like a mess.

"Are you okay?" He stopped and glanced at me before raising a brow.

"Great, you're one of those symphaty givers that-" I laughed. "Believe me, I'm nothing like that. I'm actually genuinely concerned. I'm not pretending that I give a crap because I actully do give a crap especially if it's the first friend I've made in a school full of people who already know each other so yeah."

He looked taken aback, like he was surprised someone actually cared. I knew the look well, it's the same face I'd make too.

"Thanks." He stuttered out before grinning. I swear to the Lord Almighty that this kid had the smile of an angel. I'm not even joking.

I'm actually glad I made him smile. It felt like a rarity and I was able to make it happen.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I skipped through the Narrows. Apparently, while I was at school, some children got up way past their bedtimes and I had to put them back to sleep.

Timothy Sullivan, 16

Penelope Grace, 6

I sighed. It was always the younger ones who have a high probability of waking up. Their minds are confused, filled with anger and disbelief. They can't accept the fact that they're already déad.

Out of nowhere, I get punched in the gut. Shit! I got careless!

"You did this to me!" He wailed. "Where am I?! What is this place?!"

He lunged at me and I barely had time to catch my breath before dodging his attack by crouching down and swinging my leg at the back of his knees.

"Timothy, you need to calm down." I told him as I straddled him, giving him no chance of escape. "No! Look at what you did to me!"

Suddenly, his body started morphing into how he looked like when he died. There was blood on his shirt, seeping through the cloth from stab wounds evident on his stomach.

It was a move that killed. Whoever did this to him wasn't fooling around. It must've been painful. It always is when it's on the stomach.

The death process is slow and so agonizingly painful, you'd wish that you were already dead.

"Don't you want to go home?" I asked him softly and he nodded his head frantically, his body going back to his normal look as his face took on the reflection of a frightened child.

"You must've waited for so long." I sympathized and tears sprang in his eyes. Getting up, I helped him to his feet.

"The first thing to do is open a door." I told him.

"They're all locked. I checked." He told me and I nodded. "Do you know the song: Love is an Open Door?" I asked him and he shook his head.

Of course he hasn't.

"Well, it isn't an open door." I explained, either way. It was my final attempt to give him closure. The guy died at 16!

"Why?" He asked, softly.

"Not everyone can get through." I smiled at him. "Do you understand now?" He nodded.

I started searching for a door with the circle marking and I notice him building up a question to ask me.

"What is it?" I questioned. He hesitated before asking.

"Are you an angel?" I was surprised, that was the first time someone asked me that.

"No. I'm not. But thank you, I'm flattered." I grinned as I spotted a door with a circle marking just two doors down.

"What are you then?" He asked as I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Pushing him inside, I muttered:

"I am a ghost."