Dreams of Glass

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Here's another semi-scary imagine in honor of Friday the 13th!

(Y/L/N)=your last name

First of all, you didn't like heights. Second of all, it was Friday the 13th.

Cliche, right? Nothing bad will happen on one of the most unlucky days of the year! (Said no one ever)

You walked down the hallway, mourning your existence more than ever. You had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning because you had found a great story on Wattpad. It was so good that you couldn't put your phone down, and you ended up overstepping your energy limits.

When you dragged yourself into Chemistry, you inwardly groaned. You knew what you were about to see and you hated every glimpse of it. Isaac Lahey, aka your crush, sat so that he was facing you at the lab table. That sounds pretty great, right?

Wrong. He flirted with so many girls that you were positive that he wouldn't harbor any secret desire for you. Sure, he would talk to you and possibly crack a few jokes here and there, but it wasn't the same. You ended up dreading the one class that you had with your crush.

When you dropped onto your stool like a sack of potatoes, Isaac noticed.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's with the murderous glare today? Is there someone that I need to beat up?"

"Yourself and all of the girls you flirt with"
"No, I'm just tired. I had a long night last night."

Isaac wiggled his eyebrows as he leaned forward, "Ohh, I get it. Who was the lucky person?"

It took a few seconds for your groggy brain to process his words, "Um, no. That's not what I meant at all. Who would be good enough to even do that with, anyways?"

You tried not to cringe at the awkward rhetorical question, but Isaac picked it up with ease, "I would be good enough."

"Lahey! (Y/L/N)! I hope you're talking about Chemistry!"

Your cheeks turned red as you nodded rapidly to your teacher. Isaac just smirked, "Oh, trust me. We are."
~~~

When you arrived in the last class of the day, you sat by your lifelong friend, Scott. He was emanating an air of worry, so you leaned over and propped your elbows on his desk,

"Is there something wrong? Does it have to do with the absence of a certain annoying, dark haired boy that we hang out with?"

Scott's eyes were shifty, and he never looked at the same spot for long. He didn't even glance over when he responded, "Yes, it has to do with Stiles. I'm worried about him. There's a reason that he's not at school."

You leaned back to your own desk as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "You said he was sick, right? Is it life threatening?"

He shook his head, "Not exactly. Look, let's just not talk about it, alright?"

You shrugged your shoulders and turned to the front of the classroom. You understood. Men could have moody days, too.
~~~

You slammed the door shut behind you and dropped your book bag at the foot of the stairs. After yelling that you were home, you strode into your room and flopped down onto your bed. The thought of Stiles being missing gnawed at your brain, and you knew that your curious nature would lead you to do something impulsive. So, you decided to follow it.

After shoving a few things into a bag, you ran to your car and drove to the Stilinski household. You knocked on the door, and Sheriff Noah greeted you,

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