Unspoken ▹ Teen Wolf [01]

031.

Rachel was mad.

Angry, furious, enraged, every & any word you could possibly imagine to describe a state of wanting to kill every living creature within a fifty mile radius, could also be used to describe Rachel's current emotion. Contrary to her calm exterior, seated at a table with a bowl of frosted flakes & a glass of orange juice in front of her, she was merely seconds away from flipping the table & using the broken glass to kill Derek, or whoever she could get her hands on first.

Why?

The answer came in the form of the glass of orange juice; which wasn't the way she'd left it when she went to get the box of cereal. When she'd gone off in search of the box, the glass was side by side with the plain white bowl, and now it was no longer touching the bowl. But that wasn't what tipped her off.

It was the small circle of what looked similar to vegetable oil floating in the glass, that infuriated her like nothing else. Rachel knew better than to shrug it off, especially after the events of last night. Derek was on high alert, and it seemed as though everyone had a possibility of being the Kanima; even Rachel, who he'd known for over sixteen years. What upset her the most, was that he didn't even ask. He did what Derek Hale always did, and that was whatever the hell he wanted to do; even if that meant temporarily paralyzing his little sister to prove she's not a homicidal lizard.

Derek had officially made it clear that he was willing to do anything to maintain his place of power, and Rachel wasn't okay with that. She wasn't okay with half of what he did, but this was the final straw needed for her to finally make a decision on exactly who she wanted to be. She'd kept herself awake all night thinking it through, and in the end, Derek had been the one to decide for her,

In her life, there were five people; the villains (Gerard & the Kanima), the heroes (Scott & Stiles) the warriors (Allison, Erica, Isaac & Boyd), the leaders (Derek), and the followers (Lydia, Jackson & Rachel). The villains wreaked havoc, careless of who they hurt in the process. They did what they wanted, in order to get whatever they desired; nothing else mattered to them. The heroes were the underdogs, the unlikeliest of participants, but oddly the most valuable. They protected anyone who needed it, and did everything they could to prevent an innocent life from ending.

The warriors fought fearlessly for whatever side they served. They didn't give up, and they refused to surrender; even when the light was fading. The leaders, alongside the villains, led the warriors. They called the shots, and they were trusted to make the right decisions, even if they rarely succeeded. And lastly, the followers; they didn't do much. The followers could only be compared to someone like the old Rachel; a girl who refused to leave her brother's side, but wouldn't fight for a cause that wasn't worth it. They were there for moral support & advice, but other that; followers were relatively useless.

Rachel no longer wanted to be a follower.

She was done playing princess with her Alison DiLaurentis act; nobody was buying it. If she really wanted to be a leader, she had to step up her game & kick the godawful king straight out of his castle. Anyone who watched Pretty Little Liars knew how to smoke out royalty, and Rachel Hale was a grade A super fan; no pun intended. She knew now that she no longer wanted to be Alison, the former queen.

She wanted to be the mastermind who dethroned her; Mona Vanderwaal.

With a demented smirk on her face, the brunette wrapped her hand tightly around the glass before exiting the office area with an evidently fake calmness. She made her way downstairs, her expression staying solid as she went over her declaration once more. As she walked, she not-so-accidentally swung her leg out, causing a dent in the iron bars as she rounded the corner, but still forced herself to keep her heartbeat steady. Rachel could hardly contain her anger by the time entered the work area, and she was more than surprised that the glass hadn't shattered in her hand.