"take away a man's memories and you take away all of him. chip away a memory at a time and you destroy him as surely as if you hammered nail after nail through his skull" mark lawrence
In which a school bus crashes outside Beacon Hills with no driv...
" inside this place it's warm, outside it starts to pour "
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I ran as fast as I could. The image of my own dead body slumped against the tree was burned into my thoughts: throat torn away, intestines dangling from the gaping hole in my abdomen, blood spilling from every orifice. It must have been a hallucination, yet it felt so real. My mind was completely blank, and all I knew was that I had to run. I had no idea where I was or where I was headed. I just knew that I had to run.
Run, said the voice in my head. Run, and don't look back.
My chest was tight from the lack of breath I had and my limbs ached but it was adrenaline that kept me going. I felt like running was the only thing keeping me from the horrible fate in my hallucination. It was the only thing keeping me alive.
The rushing of the wind filled my ears and my vision was blurred. The wind slapped at my face and tossed my hair about, flying in a stream of gold behind me. Hazy lights danced across my line of sight, passing at lightning speed. I turned a corner and began to run across an open road, when suddenly a loud horn filled my brain, piercing my skull and causing me to stop in my tracks. I froze as the car drew nearer, accepting my fate. At least it meant that the image I saw in the woods wouldn't come true. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, when suddenly I felt an immense force knock into me, sending me flying onto the other side of the road and out of the car's way. I hit the floor, hard, and so did whoever saved me.
I focused my eyes to see a pair of deep green ones staring back at me. They belonged to the most beautiful face I'd ever seen. It was as if he'd been carved by angels. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't focus enough energy and brainpower into thinking about it. He lifted me into his arms without a word and began to walk. I was grateful for his silence; I wasn't in the right mindset to begin a conversation. I had no idea where he was taking me, but for some reason I trusted him. I felt oddly safe, a feeling I hadn't had in a long time. The comfort brought something out of me, and I felt tears start to gush from my eyes, soaking his t-shirt. He remained unmoving like a rock, not even looking down at me. I felt a drop of water fall on me, followed by many more. Rain poured down on us. It was stupidly romantic, almost like something out of a movie. Most girls fantasised about this, being rescued by a handsome stranger in the pouring rain. It would have been mine too, except for the horrific image of my mangled corpse etched into my mind. I began to shiver with cold and also fear, a million questions wracking my brain.
We arrived at the animal clinic in what seemed like moments. There was a dull, throbbing pain in my ankle and my head, so intense that I was struggling to stay conscious. Deaton rushed out into the lobby when he heard the door being kicked open and found the two of us, dripping with rain. "Bring her through," he said hurriedly, making his way into the operating room. The man carrying me followed him and laid me down on the cold metal table. The pain had become so intense that I felt a scream crawling it's way up my throat, begging for the quick release. I screamed as load as I could, squeezing my eyes shut and arching my back as it tore through me. The pain was gone in that moment, but it returned soon after. I slumped back down, my eyelids heavy. My vision was blurred but I could vaguely see Deaton and my rescuer covering their ears and looking at me in disbelief. "We need to help her. Now," He said as Deaton began to examine me for any trauma. "Her ankle's swollen to the size of a grapefruit and the scratch on her head has reopened. We can mend it the human way but there's also another option. We could try to trigger her healing but I don't want to risk hurting her more if she's not like you," "The human way?" I muttered. Why would they use any other way on me? What's the other option? "I've got this," Before I knew it, the stranger was advancing towards me and grabbing my arm. I felt a sharp pain and had the urge to cry out again. "DEREK, NO," Deaton screamed, making my blood run cold. I'd never seen him in any way other than the happy, kind and warm person I knew him to be. Derek, which was apparently the stranger's name, released my arm and turned to face Deaton. I felt my hand going limp and the pain was unbearable. "She's not like you, that's obvious! This is the only way to make her suffering end quicker! Would you rather her being in pain for weeks?" Derek shouted back. "We don't know what she is so we can't be sure that she'll heal like you! You could have hurt her even more and just increased her suffering!" The yelling added to the traffic in my brain. It was all becoming too much. I was losing consciousness faster and faster; holding on became nearly impossible. I felt myself slipping away when the pain seemed to subdue. My vision focused until the only thing bothering me was the yelling. Something wet seemed to be dripping from my forehead, wrist and ankle. I slowly sat up and examined my arm. The skin on my inner wrist had split open and was oozing black which caked around the wound like blood. All of the pain had disappeared. The same thing was happening to my ankle and the swelling was completely gone. I looked up to see that both men had stopped yelling and were staring at me in awe instead. I heard the door open and Scott's voice say "Hey, Deaton! Is Rose here? She left her -" He entered the room and stopped in his tracks, staring at the scene laid out before him. "- bag," "Scott, could we speak with you privately? Out in the hall?" Deaton asked. "Sure," Scott, Derek and Deaton left the room, leaving me to myself. So much stuff had just happened that I wasn't sure how to comprehend it all. What the heck was the black stuff that healed my wounds so quickly? Who was Derek? Something seemed so familiar about him that - oh my God. He was wearing all-black. He was the man at the police station and the figure I saw by the woods at practice and he must have been following me to school! If him breaking my arm hadn't removed any remaining attraction I had towards him, this definitely did.
