today i saw the whole world, teen wolf

𝟎𝟒𝟎 you've made your bed, now lie in it.

you've made your bed, now lie in it.

"IT'S BEEN AWHILE SINCE our last visit, how have you been?"

Ms. Morrell, the school's guidance counselor, examined the file lying on her desk. The last name of the student sitting across from her was neatly printed on a small tab. She reached for the file and, as she pulled it towards her, grabbed a pen to jot down notes.

Their last meeting had taken place before the summer break. The many changes since then made her contemplate stocking up on more paper for the file. If the conversation goes well, they might be there for a while, and she'd have plenty of notes to take.

"Fine," the student muttered quietly, annoyed by either her presence or being forced into the room.

Ms. Morrell's head tilts, her eyes narrowing. "Just fine?" she questioned. "Nothing's happened in your life that you'd like to talk about?"

"Nope."

"You know," she sighed, and pushed the file back onto her desk. "We've had plenty of these visits, you were never this quiet before."

She watched the student shrug.

"Is there something else going on?"

The student's lips twitched into a subtle smile, a hint of something hidden beneath the surface, a quiet confidence or perhaps a well-guarded secret. Maybe Ms. Morrell just didn't understand the joke.

"I can't shake this feeling that something horrible's going to happen, and that everyone I know will suffer because of it," the student confided, their voice full of unease. Pausing thoughtfully, they tilted their head, a furrow forming on their brow. "Have you ever been in a position like that?"

She frowned, glancing to the file under her clasped hands. As she bounced the pen against the desk, she shook her head.

"So, I guess we're both liars then," said the student before sinking into the chair.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you know exactly what I mean."

The silence hung heavy, thick with unspoken tension as Ms. Morrell's posture stiffened, her tongue clicking before she forced a polite smile. She refuses to acknowledge the truth behind the accusation—that she might play a role in that horrible feeling.

"No, no I don't," Ms. Morrell sighed, her professionalism cracking. "Would you like to talk more about this feeling?"

The student paused, glancing around the room before staring directly at her. "Something bad's gonna happen tonight. We both know what they're planning—you might stand by and let them, but I won't."

"Do you think that to be wise?" she asked. "Does your mother know of this betrayal you're planning?"

"Does your brother know about yours?"

"Charlie," she sighed, then stood from her seat. "If there's nothing else you'd like to discuss, you may leave."

He pushed out the chair and slings his backpack over his shoulder before following her pointed hand to the door. He stood there for a moment, holding onto the handle.

"Someone's going to die tonight," he mumbled, then turned to her. "We should stop having these meetings. I don't think getting guidance from you helps when I know who you really are."