So this story has been going on in my brains for awhile now so I decided to give it ago. I haven't written in awhile, but I got the writing mojo back! This is a little short and it's going to be a slow build. I really want to build up my characters (or at least try) have you grow with them. This is only Stiles POV. Don't forget to review! Thanks!
"How are you doing son?"
I didn't know how to answer my dad. It's been a month since my mom has passed away. It's been hard on me...on us. Both of us. I could tell him the truth that I've been getting nightmares and I started to get panic attacks, but that would only worry him more. So without missing a beat all I could say is "fine". I couldn't look at him. I didn't want him to see the hurt in my face. All the emotions that I couldn't hide from him. Without saying another word I turn and go back to my room. With every step I take I hear the wood beneath me creaking. I pass my moms old art room and I get a whiff of her scent. How I miss my mom.
It's only been a few days since my dad told me he got offered a new job position as the Sheriff in the small town of Beacon Hills. The place where my mom and dad met. We haven't been there in years, since I was still in diapers actually, but maybe this would be a good thing. Slowly packing things in boxes got me thinking. We needed to get out of here because things were getting a little too depressing. We needed something new, something fresh. We needed a new beginning.
"Baby, what are you doing?"
"Mom, what does it look like?! I'm trying to bake." I was starting to gather all the stuff I needed on the kitchen counter.
My mom laughs. "Honey, how exactly are you going to do that with with just eggs and flour? Hmm..."
With my mouth slightly agape "Um. I don't know…I was just going to put stuff together and hope that it'll turn into something yummy and delicious." I replied back with a smile.
My mom weakly walks towards the kitchen and sits on one of the stools. She extends her arms and starts rubbing my arms up and down. "And why exactly is my 16yr old son trying to bake?"
My eyes started to water. "You always told me that baking makes you happy and I wanted to surprise you with something." I said softly.
"Oh baby, it does make me happy very much. But do you know what it makes me happy?"
I shook my head. I always thought it was just something to do.
"It makes me happy because I do it for the ones I love. God knows what happens when I have you overloading on sugar, but it never cease to amaze me that it can always pull you and your father through a rough day. Do you understand now baby?"
I nodded and pulled her into a hug. "I love you mom."
"I love you too baby. Forever and always."