Haven. || teen wolf [1]

twelve: beautiful tragedy

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I stared straight into the black eyes in front of me that seemed to hold a world of secrets inside. They were captivating, shining with so many conflicting emotions- hate, love, evil, sadness.

The eyes stared deviously at me as if they were blades, but I couldn't get myself to pry my stare off of him.

He walks closer but he is a figure of darkness, a completely black floating figure. There was no way for me to reveal is identity.

"Hello, Elaine."

My jaw dropped slightly, "How do you know my name?"

"There's a lot I know about you." He said, pleased with himself as he walked closer. His ice-cold hand slowly caressed against my pale skin.

I swallowed hard, as my body began to shake.

"Don't be scared. I won't hurt you," He whispered, "Unless you try to make things difficult."

"Please, leave me alone." I whimpered as his hand quickly grasped around my neck firmly, my feet leaving the ground.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He said roughly throwing me to the ground.

He bends down at my side, "You'll be mine soon."

I sat up in bed with a jolt of my body. My breath heavy and fast, sweat glistening on my skin. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was only 6:48 in the morning, so I had time to fall back asleep. But I was too afraid to close my eyes; too afraid that I would continue dreaming.

I looked out the window the balcony, when something catches my eye. It was a figure. The figure was dark, obviously just a shadow, but the light from the sunrise behind it made it impossible to see clearly what the shadow was- or if it was even real. Was my mind just playing tricks on me? And with just a blink the figure disappeared. Maybe it was just a nightmare.

I ran my fingers through my hair, closing my eyes slightly, trying to relax. I lifted the covers off of legs and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. There was no use in sleeping, I would just have another dream, and I was honestly terrified of what else I could foresee in them.

I walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me, and paced back and forth. I turned on the water and splashed the cold water on my face. I gripped onto the sink as I stared back into my tired eyes through the reflection; my skin slightly glistened in the light from the sweat.

"It's not real." I said to myself once more. "It's not real..."

I inhaled once more before exiting the bathroom and continuing to walk down the hall back to my room.

However I paused in front of my uncle's office when I heard him shouting at someone.

"You have to stay away from her."

I automatically knew he was referring to me.

"She must never know who you are... I don't care... stay out of her life, that's what you wanted wasn't it?"

I couldn't seem to listen hear what the other person was saying as I pressed my ear closer to the door. I was curious to see who he was talking to.

"That's enough. You weren't there for 12 years of Elaine's life, what makes you think I'm going to let you walk back into hers now?"

My father, I gulped and quickly ran down the hallway to my room. I buried myself in blankets, pulling it over my head to stop my mind with the thoughts of my father.

At the young age of three my dad had walked out of my life, leaving my mother to raise a child on her own. I have no memory of him, or what he looks like, or even his name. After he left, my mother refused to talk about him. At the mere mention of my dad, she would go blank, pretending as if I said nothing.

But he knows I'm alive, and now he knows am I here. The only question I have is why does he want me now?

***

"What was your pack like?" Scott asked making conversation during our lunch period.

"Bad, violent creatures. They were obsessed with turning people into werewolf's only to have them kill off one another. It was barbaric. If you wanted to leave, they will kill you before you got the chance to taste freedom." I explained trying to avoid the vivid memories that began entering my mind, "But they trained us to be strong and powerful and that's what we were. People cowered in our presence."

"How did you manage to leave?" Stiles asked.

"They think I'm dead." I confessed, "And if they find out I'm alive, they will come and kill me."

Scott and Stiles remained silent at the seriousness of the situation I was in. I was living in constant fear of them finding me, or finding out I was alive. Both would lead to a merciless end of my life.

"They forced me to kill my mom." I whispered looking down, not wanting them to see the glossiness in my eyes.

"That's awful," Stiles said, still in shock of it all.

"You have no idea," I shook my head, not knowing what else to even say.

"I'm so sorry, Elaine." Scott stated, his voice genuine and sincere, something I admire.

"What about your dad?" Stiles asked and Scott shot him glare, in case that it was another sensitive subject for me.

Stiles merely shrugged, gesturing that he didn't realize.

I chuckled at their interaction and then continued to explain, "My dad's still alive, but I have no idea where he is. And even if I find him at some point, it's not like he's going to want to come back into my life now."

"So you live here with your uncle?" Stiles asked changing the conversation.

"Yeah, he's really the only family I have left, so I didn't really any other options." I faintly chuckled.

"But you said your dad isn't dead?" Stiles asked furrowing his eyebrows.

"He left me when I was three, does he really want to take me in after all these years?" I retorted with a shrug of my left shoulder. "It is what it is."

Scott reached his hand out for me to take. I hesitated before I placed my own in his.

"I hope you can find a family with us." He nodded, basically saying he wanted me to join his pack.

I smiled at him, feeling completely fortunate at this moment.

Stile then placed his hand on top of both Scott and mine, "Me too."

I faintly laughed shaking my head. Though their gesture was sweet, no one should want to be friends with me. Bad things tend to happen to people who attach themselves to me.

"Guys, why would want to be friends with me?" I asked looking up at the two of them who now looked confused, "I'm a walking tragedy."

The corner of Scott's lip formed into a slight smile and he shrugged, "I think there is something beautiful about that."