"Calla!" My father called from downstairs. I groaned and pulled the covers off my face.

"Dad, I said I'm fine. Now leave me alone." I growled. It had been a week since Derek and I broke up. I've been heartbroken and locked myself in my room everyday coming home from school, not eating a thing. I was never hungry. Jake, my blonde haired father, tried to turn on my favorite music downstairs, bake me my favorite desserts or turn on my favorite movies, but I wasn't in the mood. I wanted to be happy again but I didn't want someone else to make me happy. I need myself to make me happy.

"Calla!" I groaned and pushed the covers off me. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, steadying with my hand on the nightstand. I yawned and walked to my door on unstable legs. I unlocked the door and walked to the steps. I walked down the steps one by one.

"What do you want, Dad?" I groaned.

"Come on, Calla." Jake took me by the hand and led me into the kitchen where a huge plate was laid out. On that plate was crab meat, avocado, cucumber and white rice rolled up into seaweed. "California Rolls. It's your favorite, Calla." I looked at him.

"Yeah and so was the lasagna Monday night and the chicken Thursday night." I said. Something caught my eye. A white flower by the sink. "Dad, what's that?" I walked to it and picked it up. Calla Lily.

"It was laying on the placemat outside in front of the door. Do you know who left it?" I went over to the drawer next to stove and pulled out a lighter. I went back to the sink and held the flower in one hand and the lighter in the other. I held the lighter under the flower and lit it up. The flower went up into flames and fell into the sink in ashes. "What was that for?"

"Love burns." I muttered.

"Well, anyways, let's go eat."

"I'm not hungry, Dad."

"Yes, you are. I can practically see your ribs through your shirt. Eat, please. I have your favorite movie on paperview. Hunger Games, right?" I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, Dad, fine." I grabbed the plate of California Rolls and he grabbed the soy sauce from the fridge. We went back into the living room and sat down on the couch and Jake pushed play and the movie played. Half way through the movie, white rice sticking to my mouth, a scream sounded outside in the distant. I looked at Jake to see if he heard it but he didn't. I listened closely. Lydia. "Dad, I got to go." Jake looked at me in shock.

"What? Why?"

"I just remembered," I slipped my shoes on. "That Stiles and I," I pulled my coat on. "had an astronomy," I placed my hat on my head. "project to do. Love you." I ran out the door and raced to the hospital. I got to the parking lot and saw Sties' jeep there. Of course it was there. I raced over there and saw the short thin brown hair brown eye boy in the driver's seat. Scott, the thin curly brown hair brown eye boy, was in the driver's seat.

"She's alive!" Stiles exclaimed as he saw me. Scott looked at me too and rolled down his window.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked. I looked to the right to see Allison, the long black wavy hair brown eye girl, coming towards us.

"What are you doing here?" I switched Scott's question to Allison.

"Someone's going to see you here." Scott said to.

"I don't care." Allison said. "She's my best friend and we need to find her before they do."

"I can find her before the cops can." Scott said.

"How about before my dad does?" Allison questioned him.

"That I can do." I said.

"He knows?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah." Allison answered. "I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs."

"Search party." Scott muttered.

"Hunting party, Scott," I said. "Hunting party."

"Get in." Scott said. He opened his door and pulled the seat forward so Allison and I could climb into the back. I sat behind Stiles and Allison sat behind Scott.

"If she actually turns, are they going to kill her?" Stiles asked Allison as he began to drive.

"I don't know." Allison said. "They won't tell me anything. They keep saying we'll take after Kate's funeral, when the others get here."

"What others?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know they won't tell me that either."

"Ok," I said. "Your family got some serious communication problems. Scott, we going the right way?" I yelled out the window that Scott had his head sticking out of, sniffing the air.

"Take the next left." He said.