Combustible || Teen Wolf [2]

1. Lost in the World

"Stop tickling me! Dom! Stop it!" Little Imelda yelled out, gasping as she continuously kept tossing on the ground while her older brother plunged his fingers into her abdomen.

"Say it! Say it!" A 13 year old Dominic Drake yelled out to his little sister. Snickering at his little sister.

"NO! NO! You aren't getting my Twinkie!" Little Imelda yelled, continuously slapping her brothers hands away. The 8 year old having a difficult time trying to get away from her brothers hands.

"Fine then," Dominic says, digging his fingers harder into her sides.

The little girl now cried with laughter, yelling out,"HELP! HELP!"

Dominic laughed loudly, knowing that he would soon win the Twinkie seeing as how their mother was out buying groceries for the nights dinner and his father was somewhere in the garage.

"HELP HAS ARRIVED!" Someone yelled from behind Dom and he was thrown, pinned to the ground by a 15 year old Charlie who grunted, "GRAB THE TWINKIE MEL AND RUN!"

The little curly haired girl was quick to grab it and run, her chubby legs running down the house into her secret spot where no one knew. It was just behind her Dads study, the little nook big enough to where she could fit.

Imelda was quick to jump into her spot and then stay silent, listening for and signs of Dom or Charlie.

When she heard footsteps approaching the office she shut her eyes tightly, holding her breath and hiding the Twinkie behind her back.

"He's looking for you outside," Charlie's voice said, causing little Imelda's eyes to spring open in shock," I've seen you run back here before with your mom's lipsticks."

She rolled her eyes, and grabbed the Twinkie before ripping the plastic open. Little Imelda gazed at the thing as Charlie made himself comfortable near her, she extended her hand offering some of the Twinkie.

"Thank you for helping me," her tiny voice murmured.

Charlie smiled, ripping off a piece of Twinkie and murmuring," I'm always going to be here Mel. Always."

Charlie's eyes looked over every detail of me, his lips pursed and I could read him like before, he was that open book I had always knows... well use too know.

Charlie was most likely wondering why my hair was a scattered mess; why there was little rips in my shirt, why my fists were bunched up so tightly, what the hell has happened to cause the tiny dots of blood across my neck, where this oversized guy sweater had come from, and most importantly where the hell I had been to let all of this happen.

"Sup Mel," he tried lightning the mood, a little smile dancing across his face," who did you kill?"

"Stop fucking around Charlie and stop calling me that!" I growl," What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing. Here."

I said every word slow, spitting them out like they were horse shit shoved in my mouth. In reality that's what it felt like, he was the last person I wanted here.

He sighs, lifting up the mug of steaming coffee that I can smell," take a seat."

"No," I yell," I don't want to take a fucking seat. I want you to get the hell out of my house and then never call me unless you're dying."

"Imelda please," he pleads.

I cross my arms," no."

"Fine!" He says, huffing in that way I remember him and Dom use too do the same way," I'm here to take care of you. I'm here to change."