It was like being submerged in a never ending dusk. It was the type of weather where it was too warm for a jacket, but too brisk for his v-neck. He was stuck in the gate of hallucinations and reality. And that's the reason he didn't take time to smile anymore. He jokes, of course, but every flash of his teeth is followed by a sullen and deflated look. He was slowly drowning in a nonexistent abyss.
And I knew this because I felt it too.
Being a supernatural being centered around death, I can feel certain things that humans can't. Being a banshee, I could feel the emptiness around his being. It was sad seeing him be like this and knowing he'd have to live with it the rest of his life.
I took note of all of this as he read aloud to me his US history book. He discovered last week that he adapted dyslexia and his grades had been dropping severely since. He stammered through each word, and I could tell he was frustrated with it all.
"President Lincoln ran against corresponding Democrat McCellan in the 1864 election and was favored to lose until the Union cap-ca-" Stiles set the book down, slouched back into the couch, and pressed his hands into his eyes.
"Lydia, it's happening again." He started rubbing his eyes. "Right on time too!"
He slammed his fist on the coffee table in one motion as he said the last line.
I put my hand on his thigh to comfort him.
"Hey, it's alright. I can read the rest to you if you'd like. There's only one page to go so-"
He threw my hand off of him and stood up abruptly.
"No, Lydia, NO. Stop treating me like I'm some charity case. I'm fine." He placed his hand on his forehead and stared straight ahead into the kitchen, trying to calm himself down. He breathing slowed as he stay fixed on the one point. After a couple seconds, he brought his hand down and finally looked into my eyes.
"I'm totally and undoubtedly fine." He sat back down and brought the book onto his lap.
I placed my hand on top of his to stop it from turning to page. I felt every atom in his body freeze, and it made me smile. Not that I liked seeing him fan all over me, but it made me feel good knowing he could feel at least something. "Stiles."
He put the book back down and heaved an annoyed sigh, "I know, I know."
He made some jerky arm motion, something old Stiles would do. "I know you're just looking out for me and whatever but you're doing that THING."
"Excuse me? I AM looking out for you and whatever! And what thing are you referring too?"
He mumbled under his breath.
"Stiles!" He cringed and rubbed the back of neck as he mumbled something with "Inferior."
It was seriously like babysitting some sort of child with the way he was acting. It was good, though. He was showing signs of life and that's all I needed. I always tried instigating his sarcasm as much as I could.
"Wait, what'd you say?" I cupped my hand to my ear pretending to listen better. "I didn't catch it."
He looked beyond annoyed me and I could see his mouth twitching at the corners.
"You're making me feel inferior." He spat out. "Are you happy?"
"I thought that's what you said. I was just making sure." I teased him and giggled at his expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You are unbelievable!" he said as he closed his eyes.
I put my arm around him and smirked, "Yeah, but you love me anyways."
I felt him freeze up underneath my arm.
And just like that, he was gone. He opened his eyes, and even if he was about to smile, the dark disease was back upon him. He was breathing heavy and started to panic. He looked around wildly and whispered something incoherent.
"I closed them too long." I was finally able to make out. His eyes kept searching through the air, flipping back and forth rapidly. His breathing increased rapidly. Stiles was having another episode.
I understood that meant he saw the shapes again, and took advantage of the location of my arm. I brought his closer and had his head rest against the inner of my shoulder.
"I closed them too long." He kept repeating through his gasps. I tried shushing him and stroked his hair until there were gaps between his sentences so I could interject.
"Stiles, but they're not real, remember? It's a hallucination."
"Lydia?" He looked up, and I could see his eyes were filling with water. In that moment I envied any girl who has not seen a boy so succumbed to fear that he cries. It is one of the most heart breaking scenes in the world, and it makes it ten times worse when it's a boy like Stiles. He's kind, thoughtful, and so...
Innocent.
"Yes?"
He took a breath and swallowed hard, "Why does this keep happening?"
I wanted to respond but I couldn't. I know he was counting on me for an answer, but I didn't know why. As smart as I was, I couldn't figure out why he had it much worse than Scott or Allison. I couldn't figure out why a person so generous was getting hit with so much pain.
And I'll be damned if I didn't stay up day and night trying to uncover this mystery. So I did. I needed to be there like he has always been there for me.
But I didn't have an answer. So I sat and ran my fingers through his hair, hushing him until his body lie still and his breathing became even.
