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

Chapter 10 - 'Putting ketchup on ice cream.'

The next day didn't seem any better.

If he wasn't avoiding me yesterday, he was definitely avoiding me today, I soon realized why.

In the middle of lacrosse practice, Sheriff Stilinski had excused Isaac for questioning.

About his Father's murder.

This information was given to me by Stiles and I didn't know whether to be grateful or horrified.

Did my dream from last night really happen?

There was the familiar scratch of a pen in my pocket again as I took out my folded piece of paper.

Shit! A reminder.

I noticed four different names written on my paper besides the note. I was so overwhelmed about things going on; I don't even know myself what's really going on! I have forgotten my duties.

Before doing anything else, I slipped back into the narrows.

I needed some peace anyway. Skipping was okay, I wasn't failing any classes at the moment. Yet.

~•~•~•~•~

I shouldn't. I should.

Maybe not.

Screw it, let's just do it.

It was nearly evening now. I was mentally debating whether or not I should check Isaac's house, to see if what I had dreamt was true.

I had already finished returning the histories. They were alright, only one had clawed at my face.

In my dream, I saw an address and I have no idea if it was Isaac's or someone else's.

My mother, after last night, had not returned. Leaving a text that she'd be staying with a friend. It wasn't her that sent it. It was her friend's number. She said my mom wanted some space. Atleast she was polite about it.

Feeling the love, mom! So much that it's become spicy.

I had nothing else to do...

Yep. Going to Isaac's house.

~•~•~•~•~

I had arrived at said address but it didn't seem right. This house was too tall to be Isaac's and too white. I was sure Isaac's house was sorta brownish-yellowish something.

Check the mailbox.

The thought had clicked into my mind. How could I be so stupid? Nah, I wasn't that stupid. Maybe I'm just slow? I could work with that.

Whittmore.

Jackson.

Nope. Definitely not the Lahey's.

Maybe I should try something out. I gocused on the memories of the place, the sounds and smell. Trying to get a memory of an object or place was like trying to catch a balloon suspended in the air, you have to find it first and sometimes, it slips through your hands.

I found it.

An early memory, cars driving away and one stood out. Mr. Lahey's car. I followed it's memory to the house just across the Jackson's.

Shivering, I knocked on the door and it opened without me even twisting the knob.

It's just the wind.

Damn it, Alice. That's what the horror movie victims always say before they get killed.

My heart was pounding by now. As I said, I scare easily.