Beacon ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [1] EDITING

thirty six

After packing and taping up my final box, I grunted slightly under its weight while carrying it over to the overflowing stack by the door. 

With all of my personal belongings trapped away in the despised moving boxes not even twenty four hours following Jackson's transformation, my room looked as barren as Allison's had a few weeks ago.

When we had first arrived in Beacon Hills there was a sense of hope that maybe we had found our permanent place, but with everything that had happened, Dad clearly wanted to ensure we carried on the Argent pattern of picking up and leaving before the school year was even over. So it was painful, but habitual, to dig out all of the cardboard again.

The minute we had gotten home last night, our father sat Allison and I down and explained we would be moving away from Beacon Hills and all of the problems it had caused for our family. He explained that he didn't want to be a werewolf hunter - or be involved with any supernatural issues in the town for that matter - anymore.

The year had been too tolling on him.

"This house is too big," he had stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's not the same."

"You mean not the same without Mom," Allison mumbled.

Dad's expression crumbled at the mention of her and, acknowledging my sister was right through a defeated glance, he took in a deep breath.

"It's not a home," our father's voice was softer than usual, but his next words had sliced through the air like knives. "I want you girls to start packing your things. We have a flight to France early tomorrow."

At his news, my heart dropped.

Right when I had found a life for myself, a group of friends to support me, and Stiles. Right when I had finally felt a sense of belonging in a city as opposed to feeling like a constant visitor, Dad had explained he was selling the house for us to spend time away in the French countryside.   

I had expected simply a smaller apartment or condo unit, but Dad wanted as much distance as possible for himself but also for us. Yet another element, this time geographical, to keep us 'protected' and 'safe'. Part of me wondered if he had looked at a map of the world and pinpointed the most distant location he could find, simply using our family lineage as an excuse to justify the decision.

He said we could live and learn about our Argent ancestors, that I could take time to collect myself and figure out what was happening with me or if the distance from the trauma would alleviate my 'symptoms', and we could have a break from everything supernatural. He said we could start fresh.

But I didn't want to start fresh.

I couldn't bear to think about what I would be leaving behind.

"For how long?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how long is this break going to be? A few months? A year?"

Dad sighed and looked down at me. "Eleanor, it's not a break. It's a change."

I had felt my face growing hotter with fury by the second.

"You can't do this! You can't just tell us we are meant to drop everything we have here and leave!" I sputtered. 

"But there isn't anything left for us here. We're getting away from this toxic lifestyle and the negative memories of your mother, memories of your grandfather," Dad stated. "By bringing you two into this type of world I have done nothing but constantly put you in danger and put you through traumatic circumstances. There's nothing to drop. We've already lost everything."