Monster » (Stiles Stilinski)[Book 3]

Family Reunions.

I just stared at the house in front of us. 

My house. 

This is the place where everything changed. This was the place where my old life ended, where my human life ended. It looked completely abandoned but it honestly still looked the same. I thought for sure they would have resold it or destroyed it. Guess I was wrong. Guess no one wants to move into a house where two people were completely torn apart. 

"Is-is this your house...?" Stiles questioned me. "I-is this where it happened...?" 

I stayed quiet as I slowly nodded my head, feeling my eyes getting teary before walking towards the front door. For some dumb reason I thought that maybe it would be unlocked and when it wasn't, I put my face to the glass and noticed how dark it looked inside. I then moved to look underneath the mat for the extra key but of course it was gone. The cops probably took it or something. 

"How are we supposed to get inside.?" Stiles asked me before tapping on the window, probably trying to see if there was some way we could get inside. "I think I could maybe get the window open..." He mumbled to himself while trying to lift the window.

He jumped in surprise when he heard the sound of crashing glass right next to him. He looked over at me to see that  I had smashed my fist through the front door, reaching down to unlock it before pushing the door open. 

"Guess that's one way of opening it." He laughed slightly before closing the door behind us. 

I heard him say something behind me but I ignored him as I stepped foot in my house. It was like there was something different about being back here. Something... dark. I bit my bottom lip as I closed my eyes and pictured how it was like before the accident. I remember mom making pancakes in the kitchen, I remember sitting in the living room practicing the piano while dad watched the football game. I remember how simply I thought our lives were. Little did I know that my parents were involved in the supernatural long before I was even turned. Explains a lot on how we moved around so much... 

I stopped in the doorway of the living room. Things were packed up in boxes, the furniture covered in sheets and dust and dirt everywhere. I slowly walked over to the dusty piano covered in a dirty white sheet, slowly removing the sheet. I dragged my fingers along the keys before tapping one, listening to the sound it made, and smiled to myself. I started to walk over to the fire place where some picture frames were faced down until I heard the sound of breaking glass underneath my heel. I looked down and saw a broken picture frame. I leaned down, picking it up. I rubbed the dust off of the broken frame with the sleeve of my sweater and stared at the picture.