NIGHTMARE | Scott/Stiles

• Part One - Chapter One

(Future)

When you're someone like me...you don't get very much out of life. A stable home, a good school life, friends, good grades. I had none of those...except the one exception...my best friend Calin, of course. She was pretty much all I've ever had...at least until I met two idiots that Ive apparently gone to school with my entire life and never noticed.

The two idiots that may have just saved my life...right when it was all over.

My name is Marisa Marie Hale...and this is the story of how I died..and turned into someone I didn't think was possible for me.

—

(Now)
(Nightmare - Halsey)

My favorite rock song is blasting through my headphones, drowning out the rest of the world still spinning around me...which, thank god, because it's exactly what I need...a distraction.

Like hitting this ugly punching bag hanging from the ceiling in the gym inside my basement that my dad never even used. My brother used to before he moved to New York and forgot about me. Now it's mine.

This punching bag is on its last leg, though. I've already taped...what...ten holes in it in the last month? That's my best guess, because my way of taping it included wrapping the duct tape around the whole thing, so how many holes there are...I'm not even sure anymore.

I've always had a lot of anger inside me. This anger I couldn't always control. I'm like a boiling pot of water. If you do don't do something to stop it, it's going to go over and spill all over the surface it's on...and the floor...maybe your feet. Who knows? But it's going places you don't want it too, and that's me.

So I hit this stupid punching bag and I work out a lot. I avoid other people, because they all make me angry. I do stupid things, because any form of adrenaline that isn't this anger that hits me is a gift...a drug. I'd do anything to feel anything but this anger...

Yet...I can't seem to let it go, nor let anything else in.

Who cares, though, right? It's not like I've got people knocking on my door to be my friend. I don't like people—hate is a better word for it. My person is my best friend since forever, Calin, and that's it. Period.

Because who needs anyone else when you've already found the person who makes you happiness?

...Speaking of.

I whip around when I feel a light pressure on my right shoulder, my fists raised only to slap against my legs when I drop them back down at the sight of my best friend.

"Calin, what the hell! I nearly killed you!" I snap, shoving my headphones off of my head.

"I've been yelling at you for, like, five minutes!" She snaps back. "And if you kill me...who's gonna drag you out of the house?"

"Yeah yeah" I chuckle, tossing my boxing gloves onto the floor.

"Speaking of...have you checked the time in the last hour?" Calin asks, and I pass her toward the bench against the wall, picking up my phone to see all the missed messages from her.

"Oo. C. I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention"

"Obviously. I mean, come on. You're not even dressed yet"