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chapt ten, and it starts ticking again.
THE clock sung to her loud.
Emily has sat in this seat before, left leg laid over her right shoulders backed into the seat thin cushion, stiletto dark red acrylic nails prodding her tan leggings admiring her beefy black boots ignoring the clock mocking her. First time in in Marin Morrell's by choice. An attempt to lift the weights from her shoulders without actually lifting them.
"I feel like, there's a rainy cloud over my head and it's just raining. And I'm usually great at ignoring the, you know," Emily paused, hands raised and fingers mimicking a rain pouring down her head. Morrell nods. "But I don't know, it's just harder to ignore and I feel like talking about whatever might get it off my back. I thought the same thing with my nails done and it worked for a bit, so maybe this will as well."
"They're pretty," Ms. Morrell complimented, a light quirk in the corner of her lips leaning on the side of her armrest. Emily could tell if she was lying; she wasn't. "How do you usually deal with the cloud of rain?"
Three days ago, she laid in her bed with a green face mask clay caressed onto her left cheeks by her mom wearing a cracking identical, like Phineas downstairs. A little thing to have her smiling and out of bed two days after the incident. Cooking her mind has been ways to return the favour to Scott.
"Almost done," Mom mumbled, tongue poking her cheek making sure to stroke every corner. The sun hadn't peeked in her bedroom since then, hunger and answering her phone hadn't been on her mind. Emily just wanted to sleep for a little bit and do it again tomorrow. "You should never stop being a child to be a hunter, it's never fun."
Her words are either from experience or what she's witnessing. She wasn't gloomy because of Kate's death, a tear would never be shed for that wrench. A lot of time and effort was wasted into finding out who the big bad was and the feeling of triumph should've punched her in the stomach. Instead, it's like it never happened. No victory dance because waking up the next morning was an ordinary day, like the morning before. Trading one life for another is not fun because they both exist and collide in the ugliest ways. She killed her own ━━━━━ a hunter. The clock sung louder, she glared.
"I'm starting new hobbies, like pottery, woodwork and lacrosse," She answered, head lifting to meet her gaze. Morrell's deep brown always looked like she knew more.
"So you're always on the move, is that why you keep looking at the clock?" Morrell inquired. She tried not let her eyes flicker, fingers caressing the hem of her dark grey oversized tshirt. A pen and paper in front of her but she hasn't taken a single note since Emily walked in.
"I'm not looking at the clock, I just like doing things. You know, keeping busy," Emily spewed. It sang louder. Any second now Allison will babble, if she hadn't already, and there will be guns. Coming to her was a bad idea. Saying it all out loud was a bad idea. Too much said to the wrong person. Her grey and white checkered bag slung over her shoulder, dad thought a new one would pick her spirits up. "I actually need to leave 'cause ━━━━━ "
Her sentence cut off by the door closed behind Emily, ignoring Morrell calling out her name. She said too much. Her boots grazed her knees as she fled downstairs whirling around, and caught a girl younger than her by het bicep before they collided. Sending her off with a smile, hers slipped off at the sight of Allison at her locker clasping a black dress in its plastic wrap besides a shorter, raven haired man. Not the time to unpack it all with a glance.
"Let's go! I have an announcement! Gather 'round! Quicker! Danny, put a shirt on. Stilinski! That means you! Lake! Can you ever hear me? Let's go, gather 'round! Listen up ━━━━━police are asking for help on a missing child advisory. It's a sick girl roaming around totally naked," Emily rolled her eyes at the whistle as she pushed her head inside her maroon hoodie and rolled up her grey shorts. Lydia Martin out howling in the woods after being bitten by Peter Hale; none of it made sense to her. Peter Hale, he blazed right before her eyes. Coach was still benching her, not for Peter, for skipping practice with no excuse. Scott caught her gaze, a soft wave for her. Holding back her scoff, lips pressed into a smile. "Now, it's supposed to get below forty degrees tonight. I don't know about you, but the last time it was that cold and I was running around naked... I lost a testicle to exposure! Now, I don't want the same thing happening to some innocent girl. So, police are organizing search parties for tonight. Sign up, find the missing girl, you get an automatic A in my classes."
Coach pinned the sheet to his door frame, cheers were howled as he handed his blue pen to the first. She wasn't signing up, there will be a search team out already for her. A more equipped version.
Even in biology with Mr. Harris and one of her ex best friend, Lydia and more was still on her mind on straight after all that. What was she looking for the night she left the hospital? It wasn't a full moon.
"Are you growing your hair out, it looks longer?" It took a few seconds for Danny's remark to register in her mind as she copied his answers.
"Yeah, I'm getting bored of short hair," Emily admitted, leaning her elbows on the lap table. Realistically, she forgot to chop it up and hasn't had time. Everything happened so fast. Jackson hadn't looked up across from Danny. No words were shared between them. Emily couldn't even remember how they've fallen out.
Danny glimpsed at him, expecting him to add a taunting remark or something but his were glued to the pop quiz Mr. Harris had just handed out. A part of her felt sad by it. "Are you two still not talking?" Danny asked exasperated.
"Let it go, Danny," Jackson ordered, looking up at him across him. She glanced at the chalkboard behind her, with their three names brushed off but there was a shadow of it. Then the filthy sink between them; no amount of scrubbing could clean it. Did Morrell think anything of it when she left out of nowhere? Did she call somebody? What if she was recording their sessions, that's why she doesn't take notes but nothing she said or hinted was criminal.
"What if the next body part she steals is from someone who's still alive?" She heard Stiles ask Scott, him seated in front facing the front board unlike their table. They're talking about Lydia. She robbed an organ from a corpse? Is he serious? Her head lifted, remarking their gazes. Why were they staring at her? Moving her pen, she cringed realising it was in her mouth and rubbed it on her T-shirt. At least she didn't chew the cap this; she quitted that habit a few years ago and only started to taste why everyone was doing it.
"This is a pop quiz, Mr. Stilinski. If I hear your voice again, I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career," Mr. Harris stated, behind his desk. She could see Danny smile, staring at them. It almost made mouth curl.
"Can you do that?" Stiles challenged in a questioning tone, head jumping up. With him anything is possible.
"Well, there it is again. Your voice ━━━━━triggering the only impulse I've ever had to strike a student repeatedly and violently. I'll see you at three o'clock for detention," Mr. Harris answered. Her mouth went agape, the image he painted was vivid it made Jackson grin. Scott's neck twisted, a flourishing beam on him. Looks like he's growing his hair out as well. "You too, Mr. McCall?"
"No, sir," Scott insisted, head facing the board. It was silent, then a a plot fell on Jackson's sheet.
"Dude, your nose," Danny whispered, nose scrunching at the fat dark blob of blood. Her own brows scrunched, then his head lifted and made her flinch back, grimacing at the blood drooling down his nose. What the hell. "You okay?"
"Jackson?" His heart was beating miles high. It wasn't the nose bleed that considered her, it was the dark unnatural colour like he was poisoned. And it started again; the ticking.
