AN: Hey guys its Elsie! This is my first story, so I apologize if it's bad (hopefully it's not). I had this idea in my head for a while now, and I'm really excited to be finally writing it. Also, I'm sorry it's such a short chapter, I know short chaptered stories kind of suck (oops) but this is just an introduction/prologue(:. That being said, I didn't have enough room to write in the summary but this is mainly Derek/OC with Stydia (otp) and Scallison. Enjoy! :D

Summary: "On the first page of our story our future seemed so bright. Then this thing turned out so evil. I don't know why I'm still surprised." Rumors are floating around Beacon Hills after the death of dearly beloved Lydia Martin. Fingers are being pointed in all different directions and Nikki Stilinski has her own way of coping. Between the lies, the truth, and all the supernatural things that the human mind just can't quite possibly comprehend, Nikki lands herself in the Eichen House. All secrets are out on the table now and it's only a matter of time before things start to unravel.

I try to keep a steady beat, blinking every time I hear you tap the pen against your clipboard impatiently. I could tell you're impatient by the way you click your high heels against the marble office floor waiting for me to talk.

You repeat the same words over and over, day after day. It's almost like a humming in the background. At this point you're probably convinced I'm mute, or maybe even deaf. Maybe you question my sanity, but then again by now you probably question your own sanity too.

I know what you're thinking. As days go by you slowly start to ask less and less questions. No more "How are you?" or "How was your day?" There's no more small talk. There's no sugar coating things anymore. Why bother? Sessions here are plain and simple and straight down to business. We've been doing this for so long now there's just no point. I don't want to be here, you don't want to be here. All it is is a chore and nobody likes chores.

At 5 o'clock when freedom separates us apart, you get to go home. I use the word freedom loosely. You get to go home, cook dinner for your family, walk the dog, maybe go out on a date or whatever. My point is you get to leave. I get shoved around from one shoe box sized room to the next. If I'm lucky I get passed down a hallway with a tiny window at the top.

You're talking about something that's just going in through one ear and out the other. I guess I'm not as good of an actress as you because your raspy voice dwindles down to a murmur when you realize I'm not even looking in your direction. I've used my excuses, but it didn't take you long to catch on. You're a smart women, I know that. You won't let me forget that either. I don't know why you went to college to spend the rest of your days in this snake pit.

"Nikki, I'm just trying to help you," you whisper the words you have rehearsed every day since day one. The tapping stopped and you began to pace back and forth. Every time you walk closer to me the floor rumbles louder and the vibrations drift off as you walk in the other direction.

If I was talking to you, I would suggest you get out while you still can and become a kindergarten teacher. You talk to me as if I'm three so I'm sure you would be good at it. You wouldn't oppose the idea either. I think after all this time you're actually starting to get the hint that I don't want help.

I don't need help.

I count the cracks in the ceiling to pass time. An hour here is painfully longer than an hour at school, and that's saying a lot.

I never realized how fortunate I was to go to school until I came here. Brunski says at this rate I'll have to repeat junior year. You already know that though. You know everything.

I've done a lot of thinking here, I can say that much. My thoughts never stop. My mind is a non stop grinding machine. I use to think it was a blessing, but nowadays, it's been nothing but a curse.

I can still hear her scream. The whole state of California could hear her scream that night. I would tell you it was a banshee thing but you would probably have me locked up in the basement where the real nut cases are kept.

I had fourteen missed calls from her that night. Fourteen. I try to convince myself that I wouldn't have been able to help even if I did answer my phone. I don't have any kind of supernatural abilities like the whole town of Beacon Hills seem to have. I drill it into my brain that no matter what, I wouldn't have been able to do anything.

The voices in my head rattle around for a little bit and then I laugh.

I could have done everything.

Cops say it was a hit n' run. They say her decaying body was left lying in the street waiting to be gnawed at by some animals in the woods.

I know the real story though. I know more than you think. I'm smart too you know.

If I was talking to you, I would tell you all about her 5.0 GPA. How she was officially unofficially considered a certified genius. So smart she was officially unofficially considered certified crazy. She would have qualified for this place. She always found the dead bodies.

Funny how things turn out.

I was told when I first got here that I was allowed two phone calls a week after the first 72 hours.

I'm still waiting.

I wonder what they're all thinking. My friends. My family. Apparently they cope better than I do. Everyone does. If only they knew what I knew though. Mr. Harrison once told me you can never know too much.

I disagree with that.

If I was talking to you, I would tell you I miss my brother the most. I don't think people realize how broken down he really is. When I was admitted into this place he gave me his pillow. He's been here too, you know. I wonder if you know him. If you do, you would know he can't sleep without the damn thing. It's just a habit he picked up when our mother died when we were six.

October use to be my favorite month of the year. Mom and I would always go apple picking on the weekends and make anything and everything apple related. Dad and Stiles probably ate more apples in one month than the average person would in three life times. Dad use to make jokes about bleeding out apple juice because that's basically what our diet consisted of. My favorite were the baked apples. Who would have thought that apples baked in coca cola and cinnamon would have been the perfect combination. Who would have really known?

My mind drifts off from the fading memory of my mother to the guilt hidden inside my conscience. My heart really did go out for the poor guy. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this. He didn't sign up for his wife to pass away, leaving him with the responsibility to raise twins on his own. He didn't ask for his only daughter to go mentally insane and land herself in the Eichen House – well both kids if you want to be technical. My father truly was Superman. All he wanted to do was help people, help the community. That's why he decided to become a deputy. It was in his nature to help people. If only he knew then what he knows now.

If I was talking to you, I would tell you everything about that night. I would show you every single strand of emotion that filled my body when I saw her lying on her death bed at the hospital. All of the emotions I've kept locked in my pocket would be bouncing off your office walls. I would tell you all of the adventures I've had with my best friend. I'd tell you about our plan to flee to New York after high school and live in the same apartment together, one with a grand view of the Empire State Building.

I would tell you every single conversation Lydia and I have had and I would tell you every single secret we shared. I would tell you we were suppose to be sisters and she was suppose to marry my brother and everyone was suppose to live happily ever after. I would have told you she was suppose to see the day she graduated, number one in the class too. She was suppose to die peacefully in her sleep due to old age, not inhumanely at the mere age of seventeen. If I was talking to you, I would tell you I had the key right in the palm of my hands. The key to prevent it all from happening.

You toss your clipboard filled with empty unwritten papers down on your desk with defeat. Another day with no progress made, "Times up," you sigh, looking me up and down. You have a bored expression on your face, the same look you have after every session. You once told me all you were doing was basically babysitting me for an hour.

I stand up and smooth the wrinkles out of my cotton jumpsuit. The uniform use to be a t-shirt and sweatpants until some suicidal psycho hung herself with a string attached to the pants. Apparently this design was fool proof. I remember rolling my eyes when you told me that. I can think of a thousand ways to strangle myself in this thing, starting with the zipper.

Two guards are waiting outside to escort me to my room. For a few seconds I feel like a celebrity with body guards, but it doesn't last long before I remember where I really am. I feel your gaze violating every step I take towards the door, "I just wish," you pause, thinking of the right words to say, "I just wish you would take this a little more seriously, Nicole."

I cringe at the sound of my full name. Mom use to call me that whenever I did something wrong. If I was talking to you, I would tell you how much I hated it, but of course by now you know that I'm not talking to you.

You huff one last time, "All you're doing is wasting both yours and my time."

I shut the door behind me with a smirk plastered across my face, mentally repeating the irony in my head. If I was talking to you, I would tell you I wasn't the one wasting our precious time. And if you actually gave a shit, I would probably tell you the real reason why I was here.

AN: Again sorry for this short chapter as a first impression but I promise they'll be longer from here on out. ANWAYS …. how was it? Reviews are GREATLY appreciated and all constructive criticism is welcomed (: (just no flames please I'm a beginner ok ;p)