Violet

Mother Dearest

"We found these in your mother's things." The sheriff lays a stack of books and papers on the kitchen table.

"What is it?" Stiles grabs a journal and starts flipping through the pages.

"Hard to say, lore of some sort I guess." Stilinski takes a seat, seemingly exhausted. "We've been trying to make sense of her notes but-" he shrugs, at a loss.

"It's hard to read, terrible handwriting." Stiles squints at a page.

"She was a beautiful woman but she always wrote like a nine year old boy." I hold my hand out for the journal.

Stiles and his dad share a look before he hands it to me.

I sit beside the sheriff and Stiles stands behind me, looking over my shoulder.

I run my fingers along the page, putting my skill of deciphering my mom's atrocious handwriting to good use.

"This page is about me...she wrote about how killing me was the best option." I feel a wave of sadness reading her words.

Stiles places a hand on my shoulder and reaches over me to close the journal.

"Maybe she shouldn't read these." He hands it back to his dad who tosses it back to the pile.

"You don't have to, but they are here if you want to." The sheriff smiles at me and pats my hand.

"What about the books?" I ask, changing the subject.

Stilinski hands me one from the top of the stack.

"Looks like greek mythology, mostly."

I open the cover of the book, tucked into the first page is an old picture of my mom and dad. I pick it up and examine it. It looks like they were in their late teens, probably just a year or two before I was born.

"They look so happy." I smile, tears creeping up at the thought of how heartbroken my mother must have been when he died.

She almost never spoke of my father, I only saw pictures of him when my mother would get wine drunk and feel like reminiscing. She always seemed to blame herself for his death, a haunting look clouding her eyes on the rare occasions she did talk about him.

A tear rolls down my cheek, dripping onto the page. I sniffle and wipe my face, shutting the photo back into the book. I stand and head for the stairs, not wanting to think about any of this anymore.

"Let's give her some space, this may have been a bad idea." I hear the sheriff tell Stiles as I reach the top of the steps.

I open my door and shut it behind me, not even bothering with the light. I slide my back down it until I'm sitting on the floor.

I don't feel like crying anymore, I feel like shutting this all inside and never speaking or thinking of it again. As I stare blankly at the far wall, a piece of paper slips under my door. I pick it up and unfold it, smiling at the note.

My dad says to give you space, but I'm here if you need me. -Stiles

I stand up and open my door just in time to see Stiles about to close his. He looks at me and I hold up the note, smiling at him.

"I like you." I state simply.

He smiles widely, looking down at his feet breifly in attempt to compose his excitement.

"I like you too."

I fight the urge to sprint across the hall and jump his bones. If his dad wasn't home it'd be a lost battle.