Deafening Silence

1 // Remembrance

Most people found the woods at night to be unnerving and terrifying, but I found it oddly comforting. The last time I had visited Beacon Hills was when I was just a child, and even then things weren't even that great. I had maybe all of one friend, and a family that had deserted me. Now, I've been surviving on my own for the past ten years, no father required.

As I traced my hands along the bark of the trees, the memory flashed back of my mother's death. She was ripped nearly to the point where she was beyond recognition, and I hadn't talked for two months following her death. My father had taken a different approach, a drinking approach rather.

A silent tear flowed freely down my cheek as I looked to the ground, leaning on the tree for support.

I pushed on, trudging through the crunching leaves that had scattered themselves on the forest floor. Who knew that silence could be this deafening?

Exhausted, my dragging eyes shot open at the sight of a half-burned house. The entire thing was charred, but only the back left corner was collapsed inward. The porch was intact, and as drizzles came around my shoulders, I looked up into the moonlight, sighing as I ducked in by the eerie house. I had heard the stories of a whole family being buried alive, and it gave me the chills. I made an agreement to myself to dart as fast as I could once the rain passed.

I stiffened, sensing another presence around me, but I had no time to react before I was slammed into a wall. Rigid with fear, dark emerald eyes met mine, hard with anger and torment. I had shallow, stuttered breaths as I gripped the hand around my throat weakly. The look of hatred relaxed into a look of remembrance as the grip loosened until I was standing. I frowned at the fact that I was a whole head shorter than him. As I tried to inch away, I only got to the corner of the porch before I was trapped again.

"Bryn?" he murmured, his green eyes staring intensely into my frail blue ones.

"Who are you?" I was shaking as he grew close enough for me to feel his warm breath.

"It's me, Derek." He said, his brow furrowed as he took a step back.

I didn't relax, shaking there in fear as he watched me patiently. As the dark hair and the leather jacket sunk into my mind, I remembered him. He was 8 the last time I'd seen him, and I was just 6. We were best friends before I left, and all we had was each other. He was born into a werewolf family, and my family consisted of werewolf hunters. It was a forbidden friendship, but it was a strong one. We had left a few years before his family was killed. Was he the reason I was drawn here?

"Oh." I muttered, looking to the ground.

"You're shaking, come on." He put his hand on the small of my back, making me flinch as I walked inside. It was as if he hadn't even made any effort to release the memory of his family.

It wasn't as if it was any warmer inside, but I could tell he was trying to be somewhat kind to me.

"This place is so...different." I didn't want to say creepy, because it was still his home none the less. "You...live here?" I murmured.

"I have an apartment in town for washing up and sleeping, but I still spend most of my time here." He shrugged. "What are you doing back here, anyway?"

"I don't really know. After I left, my mother died in an animal attack and I ran from my father because there was nothing left for me there. I still have another two months before I'm 18 and they officially stop looking for me." I sighed, rubbing the goose bumps that lined my arms. He pulled off his jacket, revealing a tight shirt that shaped to his sculpted body perfectly. I blushed, looking away as he put it around my shoulder.

"Do you want to go back to my apartment? I have heating there." He said, fighting a smile. All I could do was nod numbly before we walked out to his car. He blasted the heat and turned on the seat warmers, making a wave of warmth consume the car. I stopped shuddering; stopped shaking. I assumed it was the artificial heat, but as I looked to my hand, I saw that he had laced his fingers between mine. I awkwardly pulled away, looking out the window as I bit back tears. Whenever I was near him, I was equally near my parents, and that pain was unbearable.

Once we arrived, I saw that it was just the basics; nothing special. Derek wasn't the type of guy to need very special possessions, except maybe the sports car. He didn't have anything personal lying in plain sight to alert people of his family, or even that anyone lived there. Everything was neatly tucked away in its proper place, leaving only the bed to be tousled around. I couldn't blame him if he never got the best night of sleep.

"What's wrong?" he frowned, taking my arm as he spun me around.

"Nothing." I assured, tearing away. He took me back, taking my arm more assertively this time.

"You're acting...weird."

"Me?" I scoffed, feeling oddly brave. "You're the one who lives in a mass grave house." I knew I'd struck a nerve as he turned away, clenching his fists as he tried to regain control. I couldn't help it if I didn't want him to press on my feelings. Derek was the only kid who I didn't dismiss as having cooties when I was younger. I admired him, he was the big strong wolf boy who could protect me from anything.

I walked over and sat on the bed, rocking as I held my head in my hands as I bit my lip. I felt a flood of warmth unfold me until I was sitting upright, inches from Derek.

"Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?" he asked. Before I could answer, he added, "Don't lie to me, Bryn."

"No." I blushed. "Originally, I was just going to pass through here. It's too dangerous for me to settle anywhere." I shrugged. As I rose to go to the door, his voice stopped me. Or rather, the words that his voice formed.

"I still remember what you were like as a kid." I could hear him smiling, and turned. He hardly ever smiled, even as a kid. Cautiously walking over, I sat beside him as I hugged one knee to my chest, fiddling with the laces of my combat boots.

"What was I like?" I said softly. His green eyes shot over to me, but this time with kindness.

"You had to try so hard to get me to smile, and you had a cowlick that you absolutely couldn't stand." He ran his hand over where it used to be, and I was overcome with the urge to flatten my hair down. His smile faded, and his eyes fluttered to mine again. "Now all you have to do is show up in this town to make me feel like I used to again."

"What do you mean, like you used to?" I asked with a hint of curiosity.

"I never remember what I felt like before the fire. But when I saw you, every good emotion I ever had just flooded back to me." He said.

His eyes were so deep, so intense that I was forced to look away. He wasn't like he used to be, shut off from any feelings whatsoever. Now he was making it known to me that he was an open book. If I became his anchor, I would be stuck in Beacon Hills forever. I started chewing on my inner cheek, which caught another smile from him. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and reopened them as they flashed yellow. His smile disappeared almost instantaneously.

"Things aren't like they used to be, Derek." I whispered.