mischief night

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I ran to the animal clinic, where Deaton calmed me down. He knew everything about my brother and his friends, although he refused to tell me because he thought Scott should tell me himself.

"There's no reason to be afraid." Deaton said while putting a blanket over my shoulders.

"He's a monster." I say shakily.

"He's apart of the supernatural, many people are here." He says.

I scoot away from him. "Are you?"

"No. I just know a lot about it. Scott, Issac, Ethan, Aiden, and others are werewolves. Lydia is a banshee, which she predicts death. Allison and Stiles are completely normal. They have never hurt anyone before. There's nothing to be afraid of." He sets a pillow down and lay on it. "But now you need to sleep you have school tomorrow."

I shoot up. "I can't go to school. I can't see them."

Before Deaton replies, the bells ring, telling us someone entered. Scott emerges from the doorway, which makes me scream and run the the corner of the room, knocking down a small table and scissors and scalpels fell at my feet. Tears stream down my face as I've never been so afraid of my brother in my entire life. "Get away!" I screamed, grabbing a scalpel and trying to scoot farther into the corner.

A few tears ran from Scott's eyes as he crouched a far distance away from me. "Myla." He said softly. "It's still me. I'm still Scott."

"You're going to hurt me." I cry.

"I would never hurt you Myla. Ever." Scott said wiping his tears.

The bells ring from the entrance and now Stiles walks in. "Myla!" I look over and Stiles was even crying.

"Stiles?" I wipe my cheeks, even though new tears ran down them. 

"Myla that's your brother." Stiles points to Scott. "He may have a little more to him, but he's always protected you. He's saved my life many times. And I promise you, you're safe."

My arm was still pointing out, the sharp scalpel still pointed at my brother. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to avoid this." Scott says, stepping towards me. "Myla, I love you, I would never hurt you." He slowly reaches out, grabbing the knife out of my hand. He slides it back towards Stiles before wrapping his arms around me, making me feel safe. In his arms I broke down, finally feeling free.

Scott looks at me, then looking at my arms. "Myla, your arms, they're healed."

I look down at my arms. "Scott, I've always healed fast. Do you not remember?"

Scott nods. "You're right. You always have." He smiles and wipes my cheeks then helps me stand.

I walk over to Stiles and hug him immediately, for he was the reason I trusted Scott.

The next night, I was surprised I was still in Beacon Hills, as Dad should've gotten a call, unless he was busy. I was awakened by Stiles, who had a backpack and flashlight in hand, ready to sneak out.

"Stiles?" I sit up from the couch and he stops.

"This is a dream. Go back to bed." Stiles said, waving his arms around.

I rub my eyes. "I'm not stupid Stiles what are you doing?"

He sighs. "It's mischief night."

I perk up. "Stiles I've always wanted to do mischief night. Let me get dressed." I run into Stiles's room, where I had a section of his closet to myself. I grab some leggings and a t-shirt that Allison and Lydia have both helped me with. I then search for a hoodie, although I didn't have one. I grabbed one of Stiles's lacrosse sweatshirts and out it over my head as I slip on my shoes. I run out and Stiles was impatiently leaning on the wall.

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