The Banshee In Question

Prologue: Troubled Times

ALL RIGHTS GO TO summerwick (from tumblr) AND JEFF DAVIS WHO I HATE SO MUCH

Lydia ran her fingertips along the edges of the cardboard box situated on her lap, smoothing back the flaps slowly. She wasn’t prepared for whatever was inside; that much she was sure of. She sucked her lips into her mouth anxiously, dilated eyes flickering over the label with a shudder of her heart. “For Lydia” was neatly written in Allison’s calligraphy. A fist seized her heart and tears rimmed her eyelashes with a sudden ferocity as she pondered the implications of what opening this box meant. Her eyes glazed as she thought of the exchange she and Chris Argent just had.

“She was putting together a box of memories of the two of you as a Christmas present,” Chris told her gruffly, scratching his chin as he studied the young girl’s quizzical expression.

“Why?” She drawled, carefully lifting her eyes to meet those of her dead friend’s father. They were severely lacking emotion, especially for someone whose daughter died six weeks ago. He was good at hiding that sort of thing, she could tell. All part of the hunting business; it must be.

“Because she loved you,” If Lydia was breathing before; she was choking on oxygen now. She swallowed a harsh intake of air along with the lump in her throat. This man, someone she hardly speaks to, should be the last person to see her get blubbery, especially when it was over his own daughter. Lydia scolded herself; whatever she may be feeling was nothing compared to his pain.

Noticing the inner turmoil mixed into her long period of silence, Chris placed the box gently on her dresser. He cleared his throat to clear the tension caused by her sudden wave of sadness before speaking, “I’ll just leave this here.”

Lydia nodded slowly, not trusting her voice. She kept her eyes trained toward the floor and her face turned partly away until the werewolf hunter finally made his exit, the wooden flooring creaking beneath his heavy boots.

Now she was sitting here, brave front all but vanished, far too anxious about opening a box than any one person should ever be. If she told herself it was going to be okay, maybe it would be. Maybe every other problem invading her noisy lifestyle would fade into nothingness if she just pretended they weren’t there. Suddenly hesitant, Lydia quickly moved the box from her lap onto the bed as if it had burned her. If she was going to ignore the rest of her problems, she should start with the box. Why bring back painful memories?

A fresh pain sliced her heart. There was nothing painful about the beautiful moments she shared with Allison. Every little moment she tried so hard not to take for granted, but somehow still felt she did.

This was too much pressure.

Lydia’s decision was made for her when her cellphone began buzzing with an oncoming call from Scott. It was so clearly a sign that she didn’t need to open the box, at least not right now.

After shoving the offending object under her bed, she answered with a mock-cheery voice laced with enthusiasm, “Hey!”

“Be ready in five minutes, I’m picking you up.”

This time, she didn’t have to fake her excitement. Spending time with Scott still managed to guarantee a good time – at least when it was just them. “Where are we going?” She spun to face her closet, already internally monologue about possible choices. It all depended on the destination.

Her face fell when she heard the uncontrollable feminine giggling in the background of Scott’s car. He wasn’t alone. “Scott?”

“What - ? Sorry, Kira’s trying to tickle me while I’m driving, like a MANIAC!” Lydia could picture him turning to Kira and jokingly directing his “anger” at her, a goofy grin on his face that should be there all the time. Kira was good for Scott, that much Lydia knew. She just wished she didn’t feel so… third wheely. “Oh and Stiles and Malia are here too!” fifth wheely…