Through The Dark [Stiles Stilinski]

3. Don't You Forget About Me

[Not yet edited]

SELENA POV

I flip through each page, looking over the photographs I already know by heart. I memorize each detail, as if by tomorrow I will forget. The flowing black hair of my mother, the goofy smile plastered upon my father’s face as he wraps his arm around the woman he loved. I rub my hands over my eyes, trying to hold back the floodgates. It’s been a while since I have looked through this photo album, the past few weeks I couldn’t bear to open them; afraid that when I did, it would truly mean that they were gone.

Tonight, I just couldn’t help myself. After eating dinner with Gran and watching a movie, all I really wanted was for my parents to be there, holding me and laughing along with us at the hilarity of the movie we chose. But, you can’t always get what you want.

Since last spring, I don’t even know how I manage to wake up each morning and get out of bed. Gran says that I’m her little warrior, I just think it’s because my mom most likely would have hit me with my pillows until I woke up and realized my world isn’t over. I shouldn’t feel this way; shouldn’t feel dead inside. My parents wouldn’t want it to be that way; they would want me to move forward and try to make the best of the hand life has given me. Which I guess is what I’m going to have to do. I can’t be weak and fragile. I need to be strong, especially for Gran. She and my dad never really saw eye to eye, but losing him was taking its toll on her. Her eyes seem to shine less than what I remember from when I was little and she doesn’t wear that eye crinkling smile that I’ve seen in so many photographs.

As I continue to flip through the album, I hear the front door open and the sound of soft whispers, one of my Gran and one that sounded like a man’s. I quietly make my way to my door and pull it open, leaving a small crack for me to see out into the living room.  When I look, I see my Gran with a tall man with dark skin, wearing a rain jacket and khaki pants. They both soon move over to the kitchen, which allows me to hear a few snippets of their conversation.

“Has she been experiencing any changes yet?” The man asks, taking a mug from Gran and taking a sip of the substance inside. She also grabs a mug for herself and takes a seat across the island counter from the man.

“Not that I suspect. She seems to be more distant lately, but otherwise I haven’t seen anything yet.” Gran replies, sipping the liquid from her own mug.

“It shall happen in time. Since she is now at the right age, it could just mean some factors need to fall into place first,” the man leans forward on the counter, closer to Gran. “Just wait and when the time is right, you will know.”

After that, they begin talking about random subjects, which I didn’t have interest in hearing about. I push my door shut quietly and go lay down on my bed.

What could they have been talking about? Were they talking about me? I had never seen this man before but he and my Gran seem to get on really well. What did they mean by changes?

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Ugh, can I get a hell no.

I begin the walk up the steps of Beacon Hills high school, ready for my first day. Glancing around, I take note of some of the students, many smiling, greeting their friends, others walk with their heads down already hoping for the day to be over with.

I make my way over to the front office where I am met with the vice principal.

“Good morning, Ms. Grey,” he smiles, shaking my hand in greeting. “It is wonderful to have you here.”

“Thank you,” I reply, smiling lightly. He goes over to the receptionist and gathers a small folder filled with information for me. Inside included my locker number and combination, class schedule and information about the school.