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Stiles

You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. No matter how much you freak out, no matter how much you thrash around, the instinct to not inhale water is so strong that you won't open your mouth until the very last second, until you feel like your head is exploding.

I know that feeling, that sense of panic you get when you can't breathe in, when you can't open your mouth to inhale fresh air. When you have the fear that if you do, it wont be oxygen that fills your lungs.

I know how that feels like, but I am not drowning. As I sit here holding my breath, I can help but wonder if this is what drowning feels like. There is no water around me, nothing but air to inhale, but I can't breath it in.

I won't let him in again.

I can hear it even now, the soft hum of wings as the fly circles my head. Searching for a way in. Searching for an opening. Searching for the right time.

It is this same fly that Scott and our pack had put back in the Nemeton, imprisoning it within the stump of wood. And now it is out, and I am what it wants.

I have my knees pressed tightly to my chest. I'm shaking, my hands are trembling over my ears, and I can't breathe. I can't open my mouth. I can't inhale. I can't do anything.

I am drowning in my own mind. But I have decided that even drowning is better than opening my mouth. Right now, anything is better than giving him a way into my mind.

Even if "anything," is death.

My head is pounding, my vision going in and out as my ears ring from the lack of oxygen.  But I can't give in. I will die before I let him take control a second time.

Even if I have to do it myself.

Never again will I let him take over. Never again will I allow myself to be his pawn.

We got rid of him before, that I am positive of. But I was stupid to think that he would be gone for good. we all were.

History will repeat itself, isn't that what Kate said?

History will repeat itself, and my friends won't know what has happened until it's too late.

A few months ago, Void had been erased from my mind. I thought he was never coming back, I hoped he was never coming back. It seems I was wrong.

That stupid fly is still circling my head. A sharp throbbing has begun behind my eyes and I can feel my blood burning under my skin. But even as my body heats up, cannot help but feel cold. A tiny, cold bead of sweat clings to my forehead, falling over my brow. I feel as though my mind is a bomb, counting down second after second until I can't take it. Until I either give in, or die.

Until I explode.

And then it is all gone. There is no buzzing of wings, no light, no feeling in my fingers, not even the disgusting morning taste in my mouth.

This is it, I think, this is how I die.

Barely conscious, I sort through my options: I can continue holding my breath and kill myself in the process... but who's to say that he won't just bring me back? What if I kill myself and he heals me?

He has the power to do so.

My other option is to risk opening my mouth, which will surely give him the opening he needs.

But all I can seem to think about if how scared I am. The thought of death terrifies me, and it is on that thought alone that I make my choice.

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