TATTOO
"A white flag waves in the dark between my head and my heart, my armor falls apart. As if I could let myself be seen, even deeply known, like I was already brave enough to let go."
---"Okay, Lydia, where the hell am I going?" I ask as I drive down a very dark, very abandoned looking road alongside the Beacon Hills Preserve.
"Just keep going straight," Lydia tells me from where she's sitting in the backseat of my pickup truck.
I glance over at Allison, who's in the passenger seat. "Am I the only one feeling like Lydia's about to lead us into the middle of nowhere, kill us, and then hide our bodies?" I question.
"I don't know about that," Allison muses, shaking her head.
"I'm sad that you think so little of me," Lydia hums, and in the rearview mirror, I can see her lips fall into a pout.
When everything had come to pass with the Argents and the Kanima at the end of last school year, Mom and David decided it was best for me to spend some time away from Beacon Hills. We went on a family vacation to France for a bit, which was actually something they had been planning for a while, but it was the perfect time to finally take the trip. Allison was spending the summer in France with her dad and extended family, so I got to meet up with her for a few days and go sight-seeing. Then, after two weeks in France, my family headed to San Francisco to spend another few weeks with David's sister, who had a nice house near the water, and finally the rest of summer was spent renting a house just outside of town, within commuting distance to Finding Purpose, the spiritual shop on the edge of town near Devenford, where I started working part-time.
I only really got back to Beacon Hills early this morning – back into the town that had caused a lot of pain and trauma after a summer filled with healing, for the most part.
In between the trips to Paris and the countryside and the French Riviera, and then to the Golden Gate and daytrips to Hollywood and Vine, and spending the summer helping Iris, the owner of Finding Purpose, make her infamous bracelets and learning to read tarot cards, I was able to heal, because it was something that I had to do a lot of, both physically and emotionally. France was definitely a beautiful country to start doing both of those in, and I felt like I could breathe freer and things were put into perspective a little bit more. My bullet wound healed nicely, and now I just have to deal with the nasty scar it left behind, but I've tried not to think about it, even if an oblivious beach goer asked what had happened while tanning on the beach in Saint-Tropez. It's a part of me now, and I think when I accepted that, the entire situation that caused it was easier to swallow and adjust to.
It happened, but I'm okay. I will be okay.
It really had been a great summer, the perfect one after such a traumatizing and stressful few months. Allison and I got to spend more time together to patch up the friendship that Gerard had tried to ruin when we met up in France. Lydia and I were able to grow closer, too. She had actually joined Allison and me in France for a few days when we met up, but also surprised me by taking various trips to San Francisco and to the house we rented after I had gotten home from France, just to hang out with me. She was also ecstatic to meet the woman who made the bracelet she loves and cherishes so much. I have to say, as far as summers go, this might have been my best one, especially considering it was without Bronwyn. Speaking of that whole incident, I ended up actually going to see a therapist, where I was able to work through a lot of guilt and shame and regret. It isn't completely gone, as I still struggle with her loss every day and the guilt of being the survivor, but I'm getting there. I'm also driving again, having gotten some help from Mom and David to buy a fairly new Toyota Tacoma. So yeah, I'd say it was a pretty good summer.
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Renegade | Teen Wolf
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