Beacon ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [1] EDITING

prologue

EIGHT YEARS AGO

—

Music was playing out of the car's radio as I took in my surroundings. Remembering the scene from last night's episode, I wasn't surprised to see the same little girl I had always seen whenever I glanced to the left of my own seat. She was laughing, bouncing a doll up and down on her lap; cheeks glowing. In fact, everyone in the dark interior of the car was laughing and playing together, and the air filled with miscellaneous melodies and joyful chatter. Finally, despite the urging feeling that the safety and security was once again an illusion, I released the tense grip I had attached to my armrest; giving in to the happy atmosphere.

Then, just as it had done before, time slowed.

The atmosphere swirled around me in a rushed blur as the car swerved violently to the side of the road and the music was replaced by screaming. Suddenly, an image of piercing eyes and sharp, snarling teeth, attacked my vision before I was jolted awake.

I sat up quickly and panted heavily, feeling the sweat on my back and neck. My mind was whirring at a pace I could barely keep up with without feeling dizzy, and it took a few moments for the mental fog to finally settle so that I could see the edge of my bed clearly again.

It was still a mystery to me why this nightmare was reoccurring. Yet, it seemed as though for the past few days my mind had been immediately flooded with the same disturbing images of the happy car ride gone bad and terrifying creature as soon as I closed my eyes. And every night I woke up with the same fear and chills.

Glaring up at the purple dream catcher hanging from my bed post, I wondered if I had missed a step in the process when Allison and I crafted them together last summer. Dream catchers were meant to protect my sleep from bad dreams and evil spirits so, clearly, mine must've been faulty.

Tearing back my covers, I snuck carefully past a peaceful looking Allison who was sound asleep in her bed next to mine and who was undoubtedly having plenty of good dreams. The ground felt like ice against my bare feet as I tiptoed across the room, taking wide strides over certain sections of floorboard to avoid the extra squeaky spots.

Down the hall, I quietly opened my parent's bedroom door and walked up to my dad's bedside.

"Dad?" I hushed in a low whisper. Unfortunately, both my dad and my mom didn't budge. In fact, a faint sound of snoring echoed throughout their room.

I nudged his arm a little bit. "Dad?" I squeaked, a little louder this time.

Finally, his breath became heavier and his eyes fluttered open. He shot me a concerned glance once he saw the scared look on my face. "Nightmares again?"

I nodded meekly.

"It's gonna be okay. Come 'ere." He opened his arms to me as I gladly crawled over him to nestle in the gap between him and Mom in the middle of the mattress.

"You're safe here," he said reassuringly as he pulled me in closer. I let out a few shaky breaths before eventually falling asleep and, luckily, I didn't dream for the rest of the night.

When morning arrived, it was my mom who woke me.

"Oh honey, did you have bad dreams again? Was it the same one as last night?" she soothed from her seat at the foot of the bed beside Dad.

I nodded, "I saw the wolf again. But it was even scarier looking this time."

It seemed as though my mom and dad shared a glance with each other for a split second before looking back at me and coaxing me out of bed.