St. Clair || Stilinski [2]

Six || Parasomnia

|| Parasomnia

"Most of these schools require recommendations. Yours will need to be pretty stellar considering your GPA. Tracy?"

The world seemed to swell into focus around the brunette sitting across from Ms. Martin, wringing her fingers as the sound of her own heartbeat was audible in her ears, her breathing heavy.

The senior's attention snapped to her guidance counselor at the sound of her name, letting go of a soft sigh.

Ms. Martin took off her glasses, "Feeling a little overwhelmed?"

"No, I'm...I'm okay," Tracy replied with soft hesitation.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" Natalie curiously asked.

Tracy glanced down, "Not really."

"You know," Lydia's mother leaned back in her chair, "teenagers have different circadian rhythms. When you're waking up for school your body is still producing melatonin. You all need more sleep."

But it wasn't that Tracy couldn't sleep. She didn't want to.

"It's not just that," Tracy replied, failing to make eye contact.

Natalie's eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

Tracy looked up, "I get night terrors."

"Actual night terrors?" Ms. Martin questioned with an inquisitive look. "Parasomnia?"

"I usually don't remember them," she quietly said without looking to Ms. Martin.

"Usually?" Natalie wondered. "Was there one night you do remember?"

Tracy's eyes slowly met Ms. Martin's, her night terror recounting clearly in her mind. "I woke up to rain. Stormy rain. Then there's pecking. I saw a bird outside my sunroof, but I tried to go back to sleep. I opened my eyes after only a moment of closing them, but the bird was gone. Just...gone.

"But then there was something outside my window. It was wearing a metal mask and a leather coat. I panicked, and when I turn on my lights, it's gone."

Tracy's heart pounded in her chest, fear in her heart as she hesitantly climbed out of bed. Sock covered feet slowly moved across the white carpet and towards the rain streaked window. Her heart beat almost audibly under her skin, threatening to burst through her ribcage at any given moment.

She quickly pulled on the window, sighing in relief as she was met with the fact that it was locked. And with that security, she forced herself to get back into her bed and burrow under her covers. She made herself to turn off the light, nearly in tears as she rested her head back down.

But the wind started to blow.

Tracy gasped as she turned over, finding the skylight wide open. She struggled in attempt to turn on the lamp again, but with no avail, she pushed herself out of bed. She dragged her desk chair over, desperate to cease the rain from getting into her room. Climbing up onto the chair, she forced herself to stretch in attempt to reach the window crank. A light grunt escaped her lips, going up on her toes as the chairs began to tilt forward.

Her fingers slipped from the brass dial, the chair legs dropping down with an alarming thud. Tracy shut her eyes, sighing at the intensity of her panic. She reached up once more, the chair wobbling under her weight. She strained to twist the dial, a flood of relief passing over her as the ceiling window dropped down and she successfully latched it shut.