stiles stilinski had childhood trauma and signs of delusions and schizophrenia were seen in the boy. but as he got older everyone thought it went away.
a Japanese trickster spirit took over stiles for an amount of time, and killed stiles' best frie...
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harper was met with darkness when her eyes opened. her cheeks were wet, and stained with tears.
her dream was foggy, but it involved her sister, she knew that for sure.
sometimes this would happen, she would just wake up, and a crushing sadness came over her. it was just the feeling of missing someone. but some days it hurt more than other days. and today, was one of those days where it fucking killed.
stiles was still asleep next to her, and she smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair gently. she froze when he shuffled, but relaxed when he started slightly snoring again.
she looked over to her phone, which read 4:32am. harper has several miscalls, a few from lydia, scott, etc, and even a few from liam. but she furrowed her eyebrows when she saw a number, but shut off her phone when she realised who the number was.
as she focused, she started to hear the wind and the rain. now that she thought about it, it was pretty loud, then she saw a flash. it was lightning.
kat used to love thunderstorms, harper thought the whole situation was a bit to coincidental, the dream, the sadness, the weather. maybe katrina was reaching out to her, that's what harper would like to think anyways.
her body ached slightly, it was probably stress. harper pulled herself up from her bed and walked over to the bathroom, splashing some water on her face. after that, harper removed some of the makeup, that she failed to remove the previous day, and applied a small amount again. it's not like she actually needed to, she wasn't going anywhere. especially not school.
harper made her way back to her room, and picked up a few clothes on the floor. stiles' hoodie was half way across the room, from where he had pulled it off during a heated make out session.
she couldn't resist throwing the material over her head and was filled with a scent that reminded her of Christmas. the hoodie smelt like cinnamon and a vanilla candle, but at the same time smelt like mint.
it was longer than the shorts she was wearing, and the sleeves came over her hands. but she liked it that way.
she crawled back into her bed, and pulled a small blanket over her legs, scrolling through her phone.
she answered a few of her messages, most of them were asking where she was and what happened with that guy in the hall.
but as she scrolled through her snapchat, a memory and came up from three years ago.
