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"𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞."
- the little mermaid, hans christian Anderson
CALLISTA SHED HER FIRST TEAR AT AGE SIX. If she had cried before that fateful night, she never would know. She only allowed herself to wallow and weep when she was secluded in the privacy of the water-filled tube in the back of the underground workshop. When the terrifying monsters made of rusted metal and black leather would poke and prod her until she passed out from pain, she didn't shed a single droplet.
When they had accidentally made a crack in the tube's glass, Callista took her chance. Using all her strength, she slammed against the glass until it shattered and water spilled all over the concrete floor. When she stood up on two shaking limbs for the first time, she didn't waste another second.
It didn't take long for her to figure out how to run on two feet. She had only swum in a vertical tube for the first four years of her life with a glittering tail. Every muscle pull and foot scrape was foreign to her, but she wouldn't dare stop. She ignored the sharp pains on the bottoms of her feet as she ran across the dark forest floor. She ignored the drips of red blood trickling down her calves from cuts and scrapes.
She didn't shed a tear even when she stumbled into a boy wandering alone in the woods. He appeared her age, but when he spoke to her, all she heard were random sounds seemingly strung in a pattern. It wasn't until the boy realized that they could not communicate that he pointed in the direction behind him and ushered her to go.
She couldn't cry. All she could do was nod and run. So, she did. And she didn't stop. Not until she came across a black paved road and was almost hit by a blue bulky machine on wheels in the process.
An older man with another boy her age with curious eyes jumped out and rushed over to her. He made fast and confusing sounds just as the boy in the woods had, and she desperately wished she understood just so she could ask if she was safe.
It was the young boy who seemed to realize that she couldn't understand them. With a friendly smile, he pointed to himself and said only one word. "Stiles."
The eyebrows of the older man beside him raised, and his eyes lit with understanding. He then pointed to his own chest and said, "Noah."
She only knew a few words, and barely understood what they meant. Terminated. Failed. Thankfully, she knew one more word, and she knew exactly what it meant. So, with great bravery, she pointed to herself and uttered the first words to ever leave her lips in the open air, "Callista."
When Stefan Eyre got the call from his best friend and sheriff of the town that there was a scared little girl in need of a family, he raced down to the hospital. He was met by a tiny girl with wide, olive-green eyes that held both fear and curiosity.
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𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭 | derek hale
Fanfiction𝓌𝑒 𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓌 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉...