Evolution//stiles stilinski☾

dix

They dragged me up to the room that I was given to by Scott. Of course spending a night with Lydia and Allison was not what I was looking forward to, but I planned to sleep most of the night aside from the small check ups that Stiles was going to most likely do. At this point, I was really thinking what was the cause of this was.

Was this a side affect of what I'm turning into? Maybe the fight with the alpha pack did something to me. Derek was dead, which I wasn't sure if I was happy or not. Derek did like to attack me half of the time, but deep down I didn't want Derek dead. He was there for Scott and Scott was helping me.

After I had nearly torn the bus limb from limb, I was dead tired. I wanted nothing more then a break from the madness going on around us. It was anything but enjoyable and choking on your own blood was worse than imaginable. Stiles was practically having a meltdown and I couldn't handle it. He was practically hyperventilating as they carried me by my limbs up the stairs.

"Don't tell me she's dying," Stiles demanded just as they placed me on the bed.

Scott didn't say anything just simply placed his hand on my arm. Black veins travelled up his arm, eyes turning gold. My pain lessened a bit, but came back when Scott freaked out and let go. He was breathing so heavily, eyes gold and furrowed.

"What's going on with her?" Stiles pleaded with his eyes.

Scott pulled Stiles out of the room, leaving me alone with the two girls. Allison stepped into the shower, Lydia doing God knows what. I pulled the blankets over my head, feeling useless and vulnerable. That's when it happened.

Everything about me seemed to shift, my arms ached with fire. My eyes burned with curiosity. My legs swelled with the desire to run. I flipped the blanket off, running out the door. Quickly, I ran before Scott and Stiles, not even letting them catch me. The motel was surrounded by a forest, which I ran straight for, my legs carrying me far.

The bleeding ceased, my hair whipping around my body. My sneakers crunched against the soft, leafy floor. The crisp fall night attacked my lungs in a safety blanket of air. I ran and ran, continuing to be strangely comfortable. I couldn't stand being in room with people that hated me or engulfed of support. Either I was suffocated or all of my air was taken away. I was done with it. I was done remaining in the shadows.

I wanted to protect everyone but sometimes I wanted to just throw everything away and run. They were my family now, but why would you have family that hated you. Then I had the boys, but the boys treated me like I was a person with a disability, like I was better hiding in the shadows then to go a run free.

I think that's why I was running, my heart pounding with life and healing. I was running from the lies, the hiding, the hate, the death. It was practically slicing my throat every time I felt the tinge of either one of those things or I saw it. After being battered and locked in a bank vault, I saw the reality of my life and what I've become. The curse of my eyes was aggravating me and it tore me apart. Everything about my life was flipped like an upside down pineapple cake. I wanted to scream, wash it all away with my tears.

Everything was so frustrating, saddening, tearing me limb from limb. I wasn't wanted there and I knew that if I was my evidential fate of what kind supernatural create I'd become wouldn't be hard to decipher. My brain was a code of long, puzzling fragments that swirled around me just as my hair did as I ran. Gravity couldn't nor would it let me float into the air, just like a cloud, and fly away. Fly away from the problems, just like I ran. Running was my escape in this situation and it was comforting to know that I could go the distance to leave it all behind.

I wanted to protect all of them with my utmost being of my inner self, but I didn't want to put myself before people that counted me as a disgrace. Lydia and I were friends; I would've thought she would've understood out of all people. I've known her the longest, yet she pushed me the farthest. It was a fishbowl and I was the 99 cent goldfish that no one wanted to buy. I was a monster, an abomination to human kind itself. I was the one that was at the top of the pecking order. I was at the bottom of the food chain. I predicted death, I didn't save lives. I created the problems, not ended them. If it weren't for my annual parties I wouldn't of been in this situation. It was Troy who started this, he changed my life forever and I would never forgive him. My bundle of mess and issues were brought upon by his inability to quit drinking. He was my best friend and that almost got me killed.

Full circle and I was back at the place I dreaded to be the most. With my friends who their friends were out to kill me with their glares. I'd bet that the genius mind of the great Lydia Martin would be plotting the genetic possibilities of editing the structure of the eyes to kill someone with one glare. She'd become the more pretty form of Medusa except her hair of snakes would be her long, luxurious locks of rare, red hair. Allison would be plotting my demise with a simple arrow to the chest or temple.

Before me stood the faces of concerned victims of my mess. Stiles and Scott. They both looked like they had been crying and I shook it off. Of course they were worried about me, but I no longer had the effort to care. I was the cause of this horrible and disastrous situation. I'm sure before me Scott was the happy beta of Derek Hale. But Derek was dead and Scott wasn't happy. He wasn't the same concerned boy he was the first time I met him. Scott was always looking after everyone but it was making him a hollow shell of a man. Stiles was no longer as sarcastic or perky, he was constantly concerned with my well being and it wasn't doing him any good. I noticed he had bags of red puffiness underneath his eye sockets, the tell tale sign of failure.

"I know you both are upset with me," on I started, "you have to understand where I'm coming from."

"Where you're coming from, Kayla? How about where the hell you went? You were practically on the verge of death and then you pick up and leave? What does that solve?" Scott bickered.

"Scott, you have no idea what's going on with me," I gritted my teeth. "You're not me. I ran because I was sick and tired of the mess I created. Everything bad happens because of me."

There was a long pause between the boys and I. I noticed long burn marks on one of the parking spaces as I looked around aimlessly waiting for one of them to start talking. With my arms folded across my rather small chest, I glided over to the area of curiosity. The stench of gasoline engulfed my nose with an itching feeling, dousing it with its rather unappealing smell. The boys followed me.

The silence was scratching at the inner depths of my mind, my curiosity levels reaching a rather high and newly formed peak. I pondered on just how this happened. And yet, the moon still taunted the night sky and my eyes drew to the figures barely visible in the shadows of the night. I could hear their even breathing, their steady heart beats, even the slightest twitching of someone's finger. The figures in the bus were fast asleep, no idea if they were going to wake up in the morning or be mauled by a beast such as myself. I approached the cracked bus door, swishing it open as quiet as possible so no person that I actually cared for woke from their slice of peace they rarely get.

Their scents wrangled in my nose, demanding their attention be first in command. Every beating heart beat at a steady pace, all going at different times. The moonlight showed me their different hair colors, skin colors, all flawless and like porcelain. I could see their faces in the white light, outlining ever dimple or freckle they had. It was the pack. Isaac, Boyd, Lydia, Allison were all fast asleep on the bus, their bodies sprawled across like bodies of water. Scott and Stiles followed me onto the bus.

I felt their presence behind me, their breathing in unison. Both of their scents swirled around my nose, creating the dominance threat continue. Stiles had this smell to him as strange as it sounds. It drew me into him, making me want more. The way he smelt was indescribable, almost heavenly. Scott, though, had a very distinct woodsy smell to him like burning wood. Their beating hearts drummed a tune in my ears, my eyes closing.

"Take a seat," Scott whispered lowly in my left ear. "I want everyone where we can see them. Get some rest."

I nodded, Stiles following me to a random seat. But, had I known what I would of dreamt of that night, I would've stayed in the woods.