Stiles
I took deep breaths as I gripped onto the counter. My knuckles were turning white from the pressure, but I couldn't care less. I looked up from the counter tops, my eyes landing on the pack. They were all sitting outside, waiting for me to bring out dinner. I could see Derek standing up, no doubt coming to check up on me. I let go of the counter and started walking towards the sliding glass door. Derek opened it and walked in, concern washing over his face as he saw me. "Stiles? What's wrong?" He asked. I shook my head, grabbed the couch and tried to catch myself before I fell. As soon as I hit the floor I heard screaming, mixed with growling. I tried to take deep breaths, but it felt like my lungs were closing up. It was a whole new meaning to panic attack. My vision became more blurry with each strained breath. I felt the blackness surround me, and I let it.
