Beacon ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [1] EDITING

eleven

I still felt numb on Monday morning as I picked at the blueberry muffin sitting in front of me, listening to the sound of Dad's newspaper pages flipping from across the table. The school had been closed Thursday and Friday last week after the night we had, and I had been extremely grateful.

I had burrowed myself into my bed all weekend and had only come out to visit Allison's room or scrounge up food in the kitchen, and my insomnia sourced itself from the nauseating fear in my stomach.

I was seeing fire again. When I tried to sleep, when I was attempting to distract myself in my sketches; my mind just wouldn't give it a rest. On Saturday, my body ached so much from exhaustion that Mom gave me medicine that was meant to let me sleep. The caplets were effective, as I slept for what seemed like a week, through Saturday night and until Sunday's early afternoon when Allison woke me to pass on a sandwich that Mom was insistent I needed.

Slipping in and out of dreams, I was lucky enough to catch glimpses of breaks between the repeated record selection of images and night terrors. I saw the all familiar black beast again, I saw fire, and I saw the darkness of a forest that was so dense I was always lost and could never find a way out.

Sunday night was treacherous. 

I was beginning to feel slightly more alive after my slumber and time away from school, but the images from my nightmares kept pulling me out of focus from reality. Unfortunately, it was as if my visions were not limited to sleep anymore, they were springing up on me no matter what time of day it was or what state of consciousness I was in. 

In the evening, after the family had all dispersed to their respective rooms, I was perched on the foot of my bed staring at my wall. My brain was wavering away and the sky outside my window turned into dense forest, the room becoming darker. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears while my head throbbed, trying with all my might to focus on my pillows, my lace bed-skirt, my own hands. However, nothing could stop the scene from unfolding, and I felt the ground shift under my feet; transforming into the dirt covered forest floor.

I shrieked in alarm, I couldn't help it, and spun around wildly to try and find a way out. My surroundings were beginning to morph into each other when I noticed the unique factor behind one layer of trees.

The fire.

I walked slowly through the bushes and stopped when I could see the fire more clearly. I had thought it was going to be a forest fire, but it seemed even more directly man made. A large barrel stood on the rocky earth, and the inside of it was ablaze; sending large embers and smoke clouds into the sky. I was frozen in panic and wonderment, trying to decipher the scene, when I acknowledged that I wasn't warm.

The burning flames from the barrel seemed to have the opposite affect on me. Instead of heating my bare feet and long layered exterior, it chilled me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, followed by the familiar shiver up my spine. There was no one around that I could see, just miles and miles of forest, a forest to blanket any sound.

So, I screamed.

I couldn't stop the urge anyway as it coursed through me with unavoidable strength, causing me to fall to my knees. I wailed and wailed, but it only made me shriek louder when I realized that I had no understandable reason to do so.

My eyes were clamped closed and my breathing was labored, as my voice grew hoarse and the screaming died down; the feeling of uneasiness slipping away from me.

I opened my eyes to find that I was back in my room. In my bathroom to be precise.

I was crouched in my tub, scrubbing at my feet with intensity, trying to clean the forest floor dirt off of them.