Ethereal° Teen Wolf [DISC.]

18; Family

The next few days were a blur.

People she didn't know stopping her in the halls, in the grocery store, in her apartment building. Beverly didn't even have the chance to experience the sadness of being all alone, people constant filtering in and out of her apartment to check on her.

School, memorial planning, sleep, repeat.

Beverly had made the decision to have her mother cremated, like her father. So instead of a funeral and casket viewing, she had decided that a memorial would be best.

For now her mother was in an urn sitting on the dining room table, until she could go and spread her ashes with her father's.

Most of her visitors weren't total strangers, though. Deaton was always checking in on her, sleeping on the couch until they figured out what her living situation would be. Allison checked in a few times, the girl empathizing with her loss from experience.

Stiles dropped by once or twice with Scott, but neither boys really knew what to say or even do. Her most surprising visitor was Isaac, who came to apologize for his cold attitude towards her since her arrival.

But now it was the day of the memorial.

Beverly sat at the dining room table, staring at her mother's urn. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, one of her mother's college hoodies and a pair of sweats keeping her warm.

"Good morning." Deaton spoke as he walked into the dining room, Beverly just making a small noise in response. Deaton sat next to her, sliding a large manila envelope in front of her. "It's time you knew the truth."

Beverly frowned as he got up and walked away, the girl picking up the envelope and holding it out in front of her. Her name was scrawled across the front in her mother's handwriting, her fingers tracing the ink lightly.

She opened the folder and let its contents slide out into the table. On top of the papers was a picture, Beverly picking it up and examining it.

Two chubby toddlers sat in their diapers, electrodes stuck to their heads. One of the girls was playing with blocks, the other one reaching towards the camera.

She flipped the photo around, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she read the writing on the back, Erica and Beverly.

Beverly put the photo aside and picked up the next document, a birth certificate. It had her first name on it, but instead of the surname she had grown up with, the last name read Reyes.

Underneath that was a letter, the girl living it up and reading it intently.

Beverly,

If you're reading this, that means one of two things. Either you're eighteen, or something bad has happened to me.

•••

Beverly took a deep breath and forced a smile on her face as people started filing in, accepting numerous hugs and handshakes.

"Hey." Allison have her an empathetic look, the girl pulling into a hug. She rubbed her back, whispering in her ear. "Just smile and it will all be over before you know it."

"Thanks." Beverly whispered as they broke apart, Allison squeezing her arm before finding a seat.

Once she had greeted everyone she walked up to the front of the room, smoothing down her black dress. The room fell silent, the soft chit chat drawing to a close.

"Thank you all so much for coming, my mom would have really loved to see how many people cared about her." Beverly spoke, drawing in a deep breath. "I'm uh, not very good with words, so I'm going to honor my mom the only way I really know how."

Beverly walked over to the piano and sat down on the bench, taking a shaky breath. It would be a lie to say that every person in that room, including Beverly, weren't secretly afraid of her playing after the tragedy that brought them all there.

She adjusted the sheet music and hovered her hands over the keys. She rolled her shoulders back, taking a long deep breath to calm herself.

To honor her mother, she had chosen to play the piano version of My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music. It was the song that her mother would sing to her when Beverly was little, cradling her into her arms whenever she cried.

Once she was old enough she taught her to play it, Beverly practicing for hours on end until she perfected it.

Beverly began to play, her fingers moving fluidly against the keys, not missing a single note.

Despite the letter, Beverly didn't care if her mom wasn't her own flesh in blood. She was the woman who raised her, who loved her unconditionally as her own.

She was as much a mother as a mentor, teaching her how to read, how to play piano, and every important life lesson a girl could learn.

From their first embrace to their last, Beverly loved her mother with every ounce of her being, no matter how often they may have argued or disagreed.

That's what family does, and the Hunts would always be her family.

_____________________________

Not Edited

It's short, but this is the last chapter of 3A.

Also, I'm a dummy who didn't realize that she put a vote limit instead of a comment limit, Jesus.

Who's ready for 3B?

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Brea xx