To Dance With Wolves ▪Liam Dunbar▪

✓ | 05. The Effect of Fear

Twenty minutes later I woke with a start, sure I had heard something outside. When I didn't see anything strange out the window, I sighed and closed the curtains as if it would put my mind at ease. I splashed water on my face to focus on something other than the dark shadows on the corner of the room, then ran up the stairs and closed my door before pulling my curtains to the side to cover the windows. 

Breathing heavily with anxiety, I sat down and pulled out my sketchbook and started drawing, which had almost always helped me stay calm in the past. The time flew by and before I knew it I had filled two whole pages with the same things over and over again. As I flipped back and forth the only thing on the newly covered pages were the werewolves' eyes. Liam's started off blue on one side and slowly lightened until they were golden on the other half, representing the change he'd made in my mind from human to something else entirely. Scott's were just varying shades of red. 

I shook my head and slammed the book closed pushing it across the desk until it fell off the other side. After a few deep breaths I reached over to get a notebook and ripped out a fresh page, deciding to compile a list of all the questions I had about the two werewolves I knew about, and any other questions I could think of relating to the night before. I thought for a minute before starting to write.

How many more of them are in the pack?

Could there be more than one pack in Beacon Hills?

Why do their eyes glow?

Why don't their eyes glow the same color?

Who is Scott?

Who turned Liam?

How long have they been werewolves?

Who was that man with the crossbow?

If werewolves exist, what other 'mythical' creatures do?

I had infinitely more questions, but I was getting too overwhelmed to do anything else that night, so I put all of the papers I had printed and the list I had written into my sketchbook and then closed it and slid it under my bed so my aunt wouldn't find it. Then I got ready for bed because I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that the only thing left for me to do was sleep. I crawled under the covers and closed my eyes even though I hadn't turned the lamp on my desk off, because I had a feeling that I wouldn't be able to sleep in the dark again for a while.

I tossed and turned all night long and woke up covered in cold sweat twice before I gave up on sleep and hopped in the shower at five thirty in the morning. All I did for the rest of the day was homework. I did everything that was due the next day, and then everything that I had that was due later on in the week. I did every extra credit assignment I had, and even did an entire Biology project which wasn't due for another three weeks. 

Two days ago that would have been the last thing I'd have wanted to do, but now it was the only thing that kept me from thinking about Friday night. I worked harder on my schoolwork than what was necessary to get good grades. I gave my full, undivided attention to every word on the pages, and carefully thought out every single answer I wrote down because that was better then spending countless more hours thinking about the offences of nature that I now knew existed.

In an attempt to keep my mind blissfully blank, I spent my last few waking moments digging through my dresser drawers and slaving over laying out the perfect outfits for the coming week. I considered the fact that I would have to see Liam at some point the next day, but I immediately brushed that thought away every time it popped back into my head. Once I had clothes scattered all over my floor and my eyes burned from exhaustion, I brushed my teeth and passed out.

That night I slept soundly compared to the night before, and when I woke up over an hour before my alarm I didn't feel like my body had been run over my a truck, which was an improvement from the day before. I got in the shower and spent more time than usual slathering my hair and body in nicely scented soap because even though a whole weekend had passed in between then and Friday night, I still felt like there was dirt from the forest floor on my skin. 

My alarm didn't go off until I was out of the bathroom with mostly dried hair and my jeans half-way on. I hopped over to my bedside table to silence it and then went back to getting dressed. Once I was completely clothed I struggled for a few minutes to clasp the bracelet I wore every day onto my wrist, then sat down at my desk and started covering up my dark circles with concealer. 

After I was done hopelessly trying to fix my appearance I packed up my school bag, hesitating before ultimately deciding to bring my sketchbook to school that day, just in case I needed to use it or any of the information stored in it's pages. I padded down the stairs and slipped my black sneakers on (even though they were still a bit dirty from my trek through the woods) lacing them tightly, before stuffing the lunch my aunt had graciously prepared earlier that morning when she left for work into my bag. 

Then I took a deep breath as I did my best to mentally prepare myself for the coming day, knowing full well that I would be attending the same school as at least one fantastical beast, but no amount of deep breathing could have prepared me for what was coming that afternoon.