Beacon ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [1] EDITING

twelve

During the next couple of days, I had been trying my hardest to decipher what was written in the journal Kate had gotten me for my birthday. Approximately fifty of the pages were filled out, but I couldn't read half of them, as the outdated cursive was puzzling in itself and the ink had been smudged over the years.

What I could piece together were the repetitive symbols and images, sketched boldly across the pages. I didn't recognize any of them. A three sided spiral pattern, a sharp edged triangular emblem with thin branches, five rings looped together, and many other variations of a large swirl design. I had tried to research them online, but it turns out that it's hard (even for Google) to pull up anything with the limited words I had.

I also found it difficult to believe that it had been a week ever since the group of us were locked in the school, running for our lives. The memories felt so fresh and pressing, all the while they also felt distant and out of reach. Either way, my nightmares hadn't stopped, and I was still terrified every time I saw my own shadow, thinking it was something else lurking behind me.

My talk with Allison had helped us, as far as I could tell. It didn't feel as though there was a large elephant in the room anymore, and we were speaking with each other openly;  both still highly curious about what really happened last week.

Lydia and I were able to deflect Scott on Tuesday whenever he tried to speak with Allison, but he was being very persistent in wanting to hash things out with her, making it a challenge to catch him each time.

I was digging through my bag for a pencil in my seat behind Allison in History class, when Scott walked in. My eyes flickered to the desk he now had his eye on, next to my sister, and I was about to say something when Lydia came to the rescue.

"Try another row, sweetheart," she seethed at him, slamming her books onto the table. Scott's eyes flickered between the desk and Allison sadly, before slumping his shoulders and taking a seat further back and to my right, instead. 

"Okay class, let's settle down," our teacher said from the front of the room. "Let's get out our books."

I was about to when I heard a soft whispering from beside me. I turned to see Scott leaning forward in his chair, trying to catch my sister's attention. He called her name. "Allison?"

She hesitated before slightly turning her head.

"Hey," Allison greeted quietly. "Class is starting."

Scott fiddled with his phone nervously. "I know, I'll shut up, I just -um- I have some stuff on my phone that I wanted to send you. I thought you might like it."

I raised an eyebrow, but Allison sighed and simply nodded.

Our teacher was about to start the lesson, turning to the chalk board and flipping through her book for reference, when Allison burst up from her chair and out the door. In a flash I was following her, ignoring the nagging thoughts at the back of my head that I would probably have to catch up on the lesson later, which didn't help the still towering pile of work I needed to complete for other subjects.

Picking up my pace, I caught up to my sister, resting my hand on the top of her back.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" I worried. She shook her head feebly before folding into my hug.

I held onto her for a few moments, until I heard footsteps jogging down the hall and the familiar voice of Scott calling for Allison. Her head snapped up from my shoulder and she broke away from me to step forward, holding her phone up in accusation.

"Why did she send me those?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Are you trying to make me feel worse for breaking up with you?"

"No!" Scott insisted with a flash of panic on his face. "I thought you would like them. I-I thought they would remind you of us."