Beacon ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [1] EDITING

sixteen

The whole world was spinning around me, and I think a voice was trying to talk to me. I think it was Jackson asking about what happened, or maybe it was the paramedics themselves but I couldn't speak. What was I supposed to say? That I just saw one of my best friends get viciously attacked by an alpha werewolf?

Patting desperately down my leg in search of my cell phone to call my sister, I remembered that I had none or that I did, but it was currently tucked into the inside of the murderous alpha werewolf's long leather coat. My brain scrambled to try and find a way to reach Allison but even if I did go back inside, the dance was coming to an end and she had probably left already, or there was the idea that I could run home barefoot since I had left my high heels on the field, but my legs had given out and my adrenaline was exhausted too much to carry me all the way there. I needed to find Allison but, considering the situation, I decided that I needed to make sure Lydia was stable until I made another move. So, I found myself blindly climbing into the back of the ambulance and sitting next to the emergency crew as they tried to assess her damage.

Once Lydia was through the doors of the hospital to be patched up, it wasn't until a medic told me she was strapped to an oxygen system and that there was nothing I could do but wait that I finally felt my body collapse into the hospital waiting room's chair. My hands gripped onto the armrests and my head rolled back slightly so that my skull was resting on the cold wall, a drumming sound echoing around in my brain. 

I felt drained but my mind was alive and buzzing. No matter how hard I tried to shut them out, I kept seeing flashes of Lydia covered in blood and they were making me feel sick to my stomach. This combined with the pounding in my forehead and the jitters shaking up and down my legs made me feel like I needed to be placed in my own hospital room.

Leaning forward from the wall, I buried my head in my hands and gritted my teeth to keep the images out as I attempted to regain any composure possible. My breath was beginning to even out when an unfamiliar hand rested on my shoulder. I turned my head and waited for my eyes to come in focus on Melissa McCall. Scott's mom.

Her look was so sincere, but it was difficult to give her eye contact when I thought about what her son was and what her son could be doing to my sister.

I wondered if she even knew.

"It's Eleanor, isn't it? Are you alright? Is there someone I need to call?" her voice was so full of worry and it caught me off guard when it sounded softer than Mom's.

My voice came out hoarse from my dry throat. "I-I need my sister."

But before Mrs. McCall could direct me towards the phone, the elevator doors to the side of the room dinged, opening to reveal my sister. Allison was dressed down from her satin dress into a dark hoodie and pants, her makeup completely wiped off and her hair knotted haphazardly on her head. However, I doubted I looked better. My pretty dress was covered in Lydia's blood and dirt from my staggered trek for help, and my shoes were still missing. It looked like I had been through hell. Probably because it had felt like I had.

My eyes met hers and her face broke, rushing over to me and folding me into a hug. Mrs. McCall's head tilted softly at us before she gave us some space and headed back down the hallway to her many other patients.

"Allison," I breathed, wanting to tell her everything, but I struggled to get any more words out.

"Eleanor, oh my God I've been trying to get to you for hours. Dad was told that someone at the school saw you carrying Lydia's body before she was rushed off to the hospital. Is that true? He's been going mental, he's tried calling you a billion times."

"I lost my phone at school."

"What happened? Are you okay?" she asked against my hair.

Tears sprung to my eyes and I had to gulp them down, shaking my head. "No. Allison, Scott-"