Burn It Down || Stilinski || Book One

Thirty-Eight

"YOU KNOW WHEN YOU'RE DROWNING you don't actually inhale right before you black out," Stiles stated simply, his light brown eyes trained on his lacrosse stick as he tied the strings together. Ms. Morrell, the guidance counselor, sat across from him behind a desk filled with files and papers. It was the next Monday morning after the incident at the police station, a whole couple days, and the school was making everyone involved seek help because they witnessed something traumatic. "It's called voluntary apnea."

Stiles didn't understand why he had to be there; a guidance counselor wouldn't understand what he lived through that night. The only reason they were there was to get a pay check every two weeks, so what was the point of getting him to open up, when they really didn't care. Ms. Morrell watched him fiddle with his lacrosse stick, observing his every movement.

"It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head is exploding," he continued and firmly tied another knot. He really don't know why he was talking about that specific kind of death; maybe it was because Matt was afraid of drowning and that was how he died last night. The words kind of just fell from his tongue and the research he discovered this morning slipped out. "Then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore; it's actually kind of peaceful."

"Are you saying you hoped Matt felt at peace in his last moments?" Ms. Morrell spoke for the first time, reading between the lines. However, it wasn't necessary. Stiles held no remorse for Matt. Just because a lot of stupid teenagers threw him in a pool when he couldn't swim didn't give the boy a right to kill them off one by one.

Not to mention, Stiles found out about his father discovering hundreds of photos on Matt's computer- all of them Allison or Sierra. The boy nearly punched a wall when he found out; not once did he suspect Matt stooping so low that he would stalk Sierra and Allison- his girlfriend and one of his closest friends.

Matt photo-shopped himself inside the pictures, creating fake dates and memories of them holding hands and kissing. He built two whole fake relationships, letting the whole world know he was riding the crazy train.

Ms. Morrell pursed her lips and barely nodded before giving the student a small smile. "One positive thing did come out of this, right?"

"Yeah," Stiles agreed with a light sigh. His father did manage to become sheriff again but as Stiles twisted the stick in his hands, he realized something was still off between the two of them. Every time they spoke, you could feel the tension- it was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was the same situation with Scott, but after his mom discovered he was a werewolf, he's had his own problems to deal with. The teen wolf hadn't spoken to Allison either, who hasn't been the same since her mother passed away.

The boy's lacrosse championship game was tomorrow night and anyone could tell Stiles was nervous; he was using his teeth to tighten the strings on the long stick. But it wasn't just the game Stiles was anxious about; Matt was now dead. Even though it looked like the story was wrapping up with a small little bow, Stiles couldn't ignore a feeling in the pit of his stomach that there was still one more chapter.

After all, some of his classmates were missing. Isaac, Boyd and Erica haven't made any kind of communication with anybody lately and it was when Ms. Morrell brought the curly-haired beta up that Stiles realized she hadn't been taking any notes. "I do my notes after the session," the guidance counselor explained and then switched the conversation back to the boy bouncing his knee in her chair, looking at the ground. "Stiles."

He glanced up and slightly shrugged. "I'm fine," he lied swiftly, but the woman wasn't convinced. "Yeah," he said firmly, more to assure himself as he listed off his problems, "aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen..."