"The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them."
― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
Chapter Thirty-Five>>
"The police said they found pictures of Allison and you at Matt's house. It was as if he was dating both of you." The guidance counselor informed me but I was barely listening.
My heart thumped rapidly in my chest. "I never gave Matt the intention-at least I didn't mean to-that I liked him. It's always been Stiles and I thought he knew that."
"Why do you think Matt trapped you in the station?"
The image of Matt standing in the doorway of the office holding the gun at us flickered through my brain. Then it changed to Matt being plunged into the dark abyss, the pain he must have felt as the oxygen left his lungs for a second time, the terror that plagued his mind and flooded his heart. How he must of been terr—
"Jenna?"
My gaze shifted back to Ms. Morrell. "Huh?"
"I asked why you think Matt trapped you in the station?" She repeated staring at me, analyzing me which made my skin crawl. I never have liked shrinks.
I sighed. "He was scared, mad, vengeful, and we knew."
"Knew what?" She questioned.
My attention went back to my hands, playing with the tips of my fingers, mentally counting just how many lives Matt had taken. "Stiles and I have been looking for weeks. We've been searching for pieces of the puzzle to solve the murders. Why someone would want to kill all those people."
My throat closed up as I remembered Matt pressing his foot against a paralyzed Stiles's chest. Who knows what he would have done if we hadn't stopped him. What would have happened to Stiles? "I don't even know how we knew it was him or what led us to it." I muttered. "But somehow he knew that we were on to him." The lump in my throat grew as I thought back to the massacre Matt created in the hallway of the station. "He k-killed all those people, just so no one w-would find out." My voice broke, the tears welling into my eyes.
"What are your feelings toward the situation now?"
I scoffed when she placed the tissues in front of me before grabbing one. I didn't expect to cry today. Did I mention I hate therapists?
"If you're trying to get me to say that I feel sorry for him then yeah, I do." Peering up at her, I noticed the slight surprise in her eyes before it was masked away to a void emotion.
I tore my eyes away from her focusing on the rip in my jeans continuing my explanation. "I'm not sorry that he's gone, but I am sorry that he died like that. After that night, I never wanted to see him again but even though he killed all those people in cold blood, he didn't deserve to die like that. To have his worst fear lived out again." I dropped the frayed edge of my jeans glancing up at Ms. Morrell. "Have you ever almost drowned before?"
I didn't wait for her to answer. "I have. I was six and we were at the lake, we used to go there every summer before my mom passed. Dad and I were fishing off the dock but we ran out of bait. He told me to wait right there and he'd go get some. I did as I was told at first, waiting for him to return. I was fiddling with the mood ring that my brother had won out of one of those twenty-five cent ball machines they have at restaurants. It was a bit big but I loved it. It was in the shape of a dolphin and was always this slight blue color while the edges were green. I'm pretty sure it was always broken." I chuckled as my fingers absentmindedly traced my right middle finger where the ring used to sit.
"I was fiddling with it, waiting for the bait when it accidently popped off and fell into the water. I knew that I couldn't swim but it didn't look too deep, I thought I could stand in it, so I put my pole to the side and slid into the water." My breath hitched as I remember the event in grave details.
"It was too deep," I whispered, "I remember trying to jump up to get out, to get some air, to get back to the dock, to my family, to safety, but it was as if the water was pulling me in and soon I didn't have the strength to get back up. I stopped jumping taking one last big gulp of air before I went under."
One of my hands gripped the edges of the chair white-knuckled while I stared out the window at the willow tree outside the office. "Charlie said it was minutes but to me it felt like hours. I was so sure I was going to die that day. I remember the pain I felt as the oxygen couldn't get to my brain, the feeling as if my lungs were going to burst out of my chest and someone had started pushing needles into my head." A tear ran down my cheek. "I-I remember the emotional pain of not being able to see my family again, knowing that it was the-the last time I was ever going fishing with my dad, hanging with my brother, or baking with my mom. It was one of the worst feelings in the world. But then, right as I felt the last piece of hope leave my body, someone grabbed my arms and pulled me up onto the docks."
"I was fine after they got the water out of my lungs. Fine physically, but not emotionally nor mentally. I was scarred. I didn't go back into the water for four years because I was so afraid."
I took my stare off the willow focusing it back on the guidance counselor. Staring into her eyes as he had been doing to me just minutes ago. "I know what it feels like to be vengeful, especially if someone would have pushed me in there, but it didn't give him the right to do what he did. He should have been locked up for the rest of his life getting help. Matt was sick, which isn't an excuse, but his childhood torment broke him. That's what people don't realize. When people are bullied or traumatized it stays with them. Sometimes it doesn't bother them as much as it does to others but they always remember it. For Matt, it was something he always took with him, something he always remembered. It was something he couldn't just walk away from especially since he didn't have help, his family thought he was developing asthma. But he didn't have asthma, he had nightmares and through his nightmares he created this situation. His fears brought the revenge which lead to all the deaths. So yes, I pity that he died the way he did, that he died in general, but I don't regret that he's not here, I regret the pain that his family has to feel because they were clueless and now they are missing their son, the son they knew before the accident."
She shuffled some papers around. "What do you think prompted Matt besides being vengeful? Why do you think he couldn't have gotten over it one his own?"
"Because sometimes the scars that are left on our hearts, are also left on our souls, slowly cracking and splitting the fragile object until there is nothing left and all we feel is darkness."
--
After my turn with Morrell it was Stiles's. I think he needed it more than I did; to talk to someone. The night after the accident Dad let me sleep over at his house, we didn't sleep though. Both of us laid awake in the bed staring at the ceiling, our hands adjoined above the covers, the events of the night playing through our heads. Matt's death playing through mine.
I didn't tell Stiles I had seen it, I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't. It was as if every time I tried to tell someone about the situation my brain shut down and I couldn't utter a word.
I sat on the uncomfortable red chairs outside the office until he was done. I didn't care how many class periods I missed, I knew that when he got out I wanted to be right here waiting for him.
Consumed in my own thoughts seemed to make the time fly by because soon a tap was felt on my right shoulder getting my attention.
Stiles stood above me, looking even more tired than when he went in there. I stood from my seat and he wasted no time. His arms circled around my waist pulling me against him.
"Hey, how was the meeting with the guidance counselor?" I questioned softly. The question only brought him to squeeze me tighter, as if I was going to disappear if he were to let go.
"It was fine. Just fine." He lied straight through his teeth as his head pressed into the crook of my neck. I could tell that everything was bothering him. His body was tense and rigid, his eyes had lost the usual spark that seemed to alight with his sarcasm, and his hand that was gripping my waist was twitching telling me he was on the edge.
"Baby." I sighed wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling his face towards mine. "Don't lie to me."
I took my hand smoothing it over the back of his buzz cut. His body sagged against me, exhaustion giving in. He pressed our bodies together while laying his head on my shoulder. "Im not fine Jen, but for today I'm going to sit here and pretend that I am."
"You pretend too much." I muttered pulling him tighter against my chest.
"I have to." His breath fanned against my neck as his face took residence underneath my chin.
My head shook back and forth, pulling his head back so that he was looking me in the eyes. My palms fit into the contours of his checks. My thumb brushing his cheekbone as my eyes searched his. "Not with me. You never have to pretend with me." I pushed the sincerity in my words, hoping to reflect it in my eyes.
Before he could answer I reached up on my tiptoes, our lips brushing each other. "You're safe with me. Always."
"Always." He muttered pressing his lips against mine. This was unlike any kisses we had ever given each other. It didn't hold the raw hungry that our make-out sessions normally did, nor did it have the sweet passion. This was a kiss that attached us like a string, tugging our bodies, our hearts, our souls closer together, knowing that we needed each other. This kiss fed our worries and consoled us knowing that we were in this together, that when all of this was over we had each other.
We separated but kept our foreheads pressed together. "I love you," He whispered pressing his lips against my forehead, "so damn much."
Our eyes stared into each others holding all of our emotions. We didn't need words; we never really did. We were both open books when it came to each other. "I love you too."
Love radiated between the two of us as once again we pressed our lips to each others.
--
After school I had to go to work. Out of all the craziness, I was finally happy to have something must be normal for once.
Scott was helping Deaton sort through stuff in the lab room while I was in the back organizing files. That was until all the animals started barking and growling like crazy. I walked out of the file room and into the lab only to see Isaac standing over Molly, the dog on the table, while Deaton injected her with medicine and Scott held her down.
"Why does it smell like that?" Isaac questioned wrinkling his nose. I leaned against the doorway crossing my arms over my chest.
Deaton and Scott shared a slight chuckle and I smiled knowing the memory they were thinking of in their heads.
"What?"
"Scott said almost the same thing to me a few months ago. One day he could somehow tell the difference between which animals were getting better and which were not." Deaton explained.
Isaac looked over Molly, frowning. "He's not getting better, is he?"
I pushed off from the doorway. "No, she's not." My voice echoed in the silence of the room as I came to stand next to Deaton, placing a comforting hand on Molly's back while she whimpered in pain.
"Like cancer?" He asked glancing at Deaton.
"Osteosarcoma." I mumbled petting lightly over her head. Her tongue reached out to lick the palm of my hand. A sad smile played at my lips.
"It has a very distinct scent, doesn't it?" Scott nodded along with me but I didn't take my eyes off of her. A nudge to my ribs made me force my attention off of Molly and onto Deaton. "Show him."
I was confused, sharing a look with Scott but he pointed to my arms and I knew what he meant. I nodded. "Come here."
Isaac was now the confused one but he listened, coming to stand next to me. "I know you're well aware of what your new abilities can do for you. Improved strength, speed, and healing. You ever wonder what it could do for others?"
Isaac still didn't know what was going on but his expression showed that he was curious. "Give me your hand." I instructed holding out my palm to him. He hesitantly put his palm on mine, the smoothness of our skin meeting each other.
Pulling his arm closer to Molly, I encouraged him. "Go on."
Lightly, I placed his open palm onto Molly's back, the soft curls of her fur hiding his digits. Then it started to work. His veins turned black and his breath hitched. His eyes shined bright with awe as he gazed down at the pet. A smile laid on my lips as he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to watch the blackness seep up his veins.
"What did I do?" He whispered.
"You took some of her pain away." Scott replied a smile on his face too.
"Only a little bit." I explained further glancing down at the pretty girl. "But sometimes a little can make quite a difference." My hand ran down her fur before I glanced up at Isaac, seeing that he had tears in his eyes.
A full blown smile spread across my face. This was the Isaac that I remember, this was the Isaac that I danced with at formal. "It's okay tough guy." I chuckled placing my hand on his bicep. "First time he showed Scott he cried too. I still cry, every time."
His blue eyes stared at me in amazement. A smile blew across his features as we both looked at each other, before he stared down at Molly, happiness dancing in his pupils.
The bell dinged outside the lab, gaining Deaton's attention. "I'll go see who that is."
I nodded before quietly escorting Molly back to her cage. She whimpered one last time when I sat her down on the cotton pillow. "You're doing great baby girl."
After petting her for a few minutes, I returned back to the lab to see Isaac leaning against the med table and Scott putting things away.
"They're leaving tonight. During the game." Isaac informed us. I walked in hoping up to sit on the counter in front of the two boys looking at them.
"Why are you telling us?" I questioned crossing my arms.
Isaac sighed. "I'm not telling you, I'm asking you." He explained shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm asking for your advice."
"From us?" Scott questions. "Why?"
Isaac stared at the wall not wanting to meet our glances. "Because I trust you." He tore his gaze from the wall staring at me. "Both of you."
I nodded, understanding his answer, but still slightly confused. "Why?"
Isaac's brow furrowed. "Because you always seem to want to do the right thing."
I scoffed. "We usually have no idea what we are doing."
Scott nodded agreeing. "I never have any idea of what I'm doing."
Isaac 'hmm'ed chuckling at Scott's reply. "Well, do you want to let me know what you're doing right now?"
He looked to Scott for the answer but I responded. "We're not going anywhere, at least I'm not, if that's what you mean."
Once again Scott nodded agreeing. "I have too many people here who need me."
A grim expression floated over Isaac's features and the hurt puppy dog face tugged at my heart strings. "Well, I guess that makes me lucky 'cause uh, 'cause I don't have anyone, so."
There went my heart.
He pushed off the table, heading for the door but I caught his arm forcing him to stop. Sadness crashed as waves in his icy blue eyes while he stared down at me. "Are you going with them?"
He peered away from me with a sigh before answering. "Yeah." He whispered. "Yeah, I think I will."
I frowned. "You know, just because you don't think someone needs you, doesn't mean they don't care about you." I stepped closer, my hand still on his arm. "You put up that bad boy act after you got the bite but I didn't believe it for a second. I knew you before all that and yes, you're still the same guy but you're healing, becoming better."
I stepped back towards the counter as his stare pierced me. "You still have the choice to go but I wanted you to know that I do care."
He continued to gawk at me for a few seconds before clearing his throat and looking behind me at Scott. "Thanks." He whispered.
I didn't reply but he knew that he was welcome. "Good luck with the game tonight." That's when I knew I hadn't convinced him and he was still going, exposing himself to possible threats.
I scoffed staring at the floor. "Thanks but we're not going."
Scott finished for me. "Can't even think about playing some meaningless game right now."
"You both weren't at practice last week, were you?" Isaac questioned and my head shot up from the floor.
"No, we skipped it, why?"
Isaac continued. "You didn't hear?"
"Hear what?" I responded slightly panicked, my heartbeat picking up.
"Jackson was there." Isaac finished not helping the panic that was set in my heart one bit.
I dropped my hand off his arm, stepping back towards Scott. "What do you mean 'there'? Like, he was..."
"As if nothing has happened." Isaac cut me off, finishing my sentence.
Scott stuttered out a response. "That means...The game tonight?"
"Yeah. He's playing."
Not edited.