"You feeling okay?"
Scott breathed out as he shook his head, "Nah, it's not the moon. It's something different."
Scott walked away as another voice filled my ears.
"Why am I wearing black?" the voice sounded so familiar, "What are you, an idiot? I just came from a funeral! People wear black at funerals."
Stiles and I turned to look at who it was.
"Dude, chill!" a boy yelled.
It was Dad.
"You, chill. Get out of my face." he grunted, pushing the boy away.
Dad was drunk, he even had a bottle of Jack Daniel's in his hand. Not this again. Dad couldn't be drinking again.
The music stopped as Dad turned to face Stiles and I. He looked mad and I wasn't sure why.
He raised the bottles of alcohol toward us, "Its you two. Its all you."
I grabbed hold of Stiles' hand. I hated when Dad was drunk.
"You know, everyday I saw her laying there in that hospital slowly dying. I thought, 'How the hell am I supposed to raise these stupid kids on my own?' These hyperactive little bastards who keep ruining my life." Dad pointed at us.
I could feel the tears sliding down my face. Is this what he really thought of us? Did we really ruin his life?
Everyone was staring at Stiles and I at this point. Stiles squeezed my hand, it was his way of telling me to be strong. Let me tell you, I was trying my hardest.
"Let me tell you. It's you two, Stiles and Collins." Dad said our names with disgust, pointing at us once more, "You two killed your mother. You hear me? You two killed her... and now you're killing me."
Dad then tossed the bottle of alcohol at us, both Stiles and I immediately covered our faces. But there was no crash. We opened our eyes and Dad wasn't there. No one was looking at us and the music was still going. I looked around the party and so did Stiles. We wiped our faces of tears before looking at each other.
"Y-You saw that too... right?" I whispered.
All he did was nod. Neither one of us really wanted to talk about what we had seen.
Well, what we had imagined.
•••••
I looked down at my phone, a missed call and a voicemail from Derek. I furrowed my eyebrows before clicking play on the voicemail.
"Collins, can you call me back? I think I'm gonna need some help."
My eyes switched to my very drunk brother.
"Sorry, Derek. You're gonna have to handle this one yourself." I mumbled.
Scott ran over, a water bottle in his hand, "Stiles, look at me, drink the water. Stiles, drink it! Something is happening and I need you to sober up right now. Come on, Stiles."
"What do you think you're doing?" this random girl asked, appearing next to Stiles, "You want to sober him up fast? That's not the way to do it."
"Think you can do better?" I raised my eyebrows at her.
She smirked, "I can do best."
She grabbed Stiles torso and dunked his head into the pool of water next to us. Once she sat him back up, he was gasping for air.
"Woo! How do you feel?" she asked my brother.
He breathed out, "Like I might have to revisit my policy on hitting a girl."
"He's sober." she nodded before walking away.
Scott and I exchanged looks before looking back at Stiles, both of us speaking at the same time, "We've got a situation."
"We can't find Lydia and something was in that punch. We need to find out what." Scott explained.
Stiles nodded and the three of us dispersed. We all went in different directions, each of us trying to find the birthday girl.
After about 10 minutes of searching, I went to find Scott and Stiles. I had looked everywhere and could not find Lydia. I wonder if they had any luck.
"I can't find her." Stiles blurted as the three of us met back up.
Lydia was gone. She left her own party. Something was terribly wrong.
"And everyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out." I gestured to the people around us.
Everyone was going crazy. People awkwardly moving around, jumping in the pool. It was insane. What the hell was happening?
"I can see that." Scott breathed out.
Stiles turned to look at the two of us, "What the hell do we do?"
"I don't know, but we go-"
Scott stopped talking when we heard someone yell out.
"I can't swim! No, no, no! I can't swim!" the person yelled.
All of our attention turned to one guy being thrown into the pool. He kept falling under and coming back up, his arms flailing around. The words "I can't swim!" repeatedly leaving his mouth. Yet it seemed like all of us were frozen in our steps.
No one would move. I wanted to, but I couldn't force myself forward.
Then someone pulled him out and helped him to his feet. When my eyes landed on the person, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Jackson and Matt was the one he had helped out of the pool.
Since when was Jackson nice to Matt?
"What are you looking at?" Matt yelled.
He walked forward, dripping wet, but after a couple steps he stopped. Matt glared at Scott and I, like we had done something to him.
At the same time Matt disappeared into the house, police sirens could be heard. Everyone began to disperse, running as fast as they could away from Lydia's house.
"Cops are here!" someone yelled.
•••••
"So this kid's the real killer?" Dad asked.
Scott, Stiles, and I were in Stiles' room, talking to Dad about Matt. Scott had seen him with the Kanima after the party. The Kanima wrapped its tail around Matt's legs before the two disappeared.
"Yeah." all three of us responded.
Dad shook his head, "No."
"Yes!" Stiles spoke.
Dad crossed his arms, "No."
"Dad, come on!" I groaned.
Stiles stood up, "Everyone knows the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay?"
"So all they have to do is look through transcripts and figure out what class they all had in common." I tried to explain.
Dad sighed, "Yeah, except for the rave promoter, Kara, wasn't in Harris' class."
"You're right. Okay? Sorry. I guess they dropped the charges against him?" Stiles questioned.
Dad pointed at him, "No. You know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything."
Stiles and I tried so hard to hold back our real feelings. Harris wasn't the murderer. It was Matt, Dad just refused to believe it.
"Scott, do you believe any of this?" Dad asked.
Scott leaned forward, "Its really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt."
Sometimes I forget that Dad has no idea about any of the supernatural stuff going on. It gets really hard to explain stuff to him.
"Matt took Harris' car, okay? Look, he knew if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders and if enough of the victims were in Harris' class, that they would arrest him!" Stiles explained the best he could.
Dad closed his eyes, "Alright? Fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive. Why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and it's coach, dead?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Stiles yelled, we all looked at him, "Our swim team sucks! We haven't won in like 6 years."
"Okay, so we don't have a motive yet." I sighed, trying to make up for my brother's lame reason.
Stiles looked back at our Dad, "I mean, come on, does Harris?"
"What do you want me to do?" Dad asked us.
Scott spoke up, "We need to look at the evidence."
"Yeah, that would be in the station. Where I no longer work."
I put my hand on my Dad's shoulder, "Trust us, they'll let you in."
"Trust you two?" Dad asked, staring at Stiles and I.
I chewed on my lip before pointing behind me, "Trust Scott?"
"Scott I trust."