I see Allison stop in the middle of the rushing crowd, staring at something off to the side. I furrow my eyebrows, following her gaze. A bouncing lacrosse jersey with the number 11 on the back. Scott's running away from the field.
"Scott!" I call, stopping next to Allison.
"Where is he going?" Allison asks, turning to me.
"No idea," I say. She starts to follow him. I want to follow her, but I know we'll never catch him and I see Stiles still sitting on the bench with his dad standing nearby, on his cell phone.
"Uh-huh," Mr. Stilinski says as I walk up.
"Dad? What's wrong?" Stiles asks. His dad holds up a finger. As I stare into the darkness of the woods, a vision of a broken mirror flashes across the black. I blink it away. As soon as the Sheriff finishes on the phone, he relays the story.
The medical examiner finished with the dead girl's body - who was determined to be, of all people, Laura Hale, Derek's sister - and it was determined that she was killed by an animal. Since Derek's animalness is not a well-known fact, he was released from jail.
Immediately after hearing this, Stiles ran to the guys' locker room to look for Scott and share the message.
While he did that, I sat down on the bench to mull this over. I think back to the feeling I had that Derek Hale couldn't have killed that girl. Could I really have known? I shake my head. That's stupid. I'm not psychic.
As soon as I think this, the visions I keep having all roll into my head. Most of them have been just that - visions. But then the visions with the police, the bite marks, and Jackson ... All three of those came true. I saw the police in the woods, searching just before Stiles came and told us about the body. I saw the bitten, gray feet just before Scott came out and said there were bite marks on the legs of the dead body - Laura Hale's dead body. And Jackson - I saw someone on the ground, clutching their arm and moments later, Jackson was in that exact position. Mr. Stilinski had a saying. One was an accident - once, meaning the vision of the police. Two was a coincidence - two, meaning the bite marks on the legs. Three was a pattern - three, meaning Jackson's shoulder.
"Holy shit," I say aloud, eliciting a weird look from Mr. Stilinski himself.
"Emerson, you okay?" he asks.
"Fine," I reply numbly. My voice sounds weird and off-key, but I'm on a momentary high from this discovery.
Holy shit, I'm psychic.
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Transformed (Incomplete)
Fanfiction"Don't be afraid of change. You might lose something good, but you'll gain something better." Emerson McCall is a pretty average high school student. She has one friend she shares with her brother, Scott, and between the two of them, she has all she...
