Hey guys. Recently I have fallen into a mild depression and I guess I needed to have something to relate to and have help control my sadness. So this was born.
Stiles ran. That's all he could think to do. He had thought back to the cruel words of his friends and ended up crying even harder. What had he done wrong? Did he offend them? He unlocked the door to his house. First thing he saw. His dad.
Now if it had been a few months ago Stiles would've greeted his dad happily and then gone and do more research on what the pack wanted. But that was a few months ago. This was now.
His dad was drunk as usual. But this time he was aware of his surroundings and approached Stiles.
"Where have you been?" he growled.
Stiles froze at the cruel tone of his father. "I-I've been with m-my friends" he stuttered.
His dad glared and then went upstairs.
This was a new thing for Stiles; he hadn't been noticed by his father when he was drunk. Even if he had he never talked. He broke down in tears. All hope of ever getting back to where he was gone. He wished he had accepted the bit from Peter, the last alpha, when he had the chance. But he didn't, and now he was left out, beaten, and walked on by the pack. He sighed as he walked to his room.
His dad was sitting on his bed. "I miss her…" He had said.
Stiles had a good idea of what his father was talking about "My mom?"
"Yes Stiles," he voice full of hatred at his sons name 'You don't deserve to call her your mom."
"What?"
"You know every day I saw her in that hospital slowly dying"
Stiles nightmare started to become a reality.
"I thought how the hell was I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own"
"This hyperactive little bastard who keeps ruining my life!"
"It's you, it's all you Stiles! You killed your mother! And know your killing me!" By the time his fathered finished he was yelling.
He threw his bottle at Stiles and it crashed above his head leaving cuts all over his body. His dad left the room.
Stiles was heartbroken to say the least. He was useless to his friends and family. He held a small pocketknife in his hand and made a small cut. He smiled as he felt relief from the small wound.
That's what started the addiction. And now he's not able to stop.
2 months later
He slowly started drifting away, little by little until his connections to everyone were cut off. He was scared that they would turn on him. Everywhere he turned he saw chances to be broken. He slid down his wall and sat on the floor. Fear now ruled his life
There was banging on his door
"Stiles, Stiles are you in there?" he heard.
Scott, his friend who since the beginning he had always fallen second place to. Not once did something amazing happen to Stiles. Scott had so many blessings and he took them all for granted.
This frustrated Stiles as the constant banging gave him a headache.
"What?" Stiles snapped giving up his silence.
"Open the door! Stiles why have you been ignoring me?" Scott asked.
"Who said I was the one doing the ignoring? Ever since you officially joined the pack I've just been a 'hyperactive bastard'", he quoted his dad, "getting in the way of you guys" he finished.
"Stiles you don't really think that!"
Stile opened the door "Then what do you want me to think, do you want me to think that everything in my life is ok? DO YOU WANT ME TO THINK THAT IT'S OK THAT MY DAD HATES ME?" He yelled at the end.
Scott was shocked "You don't honestly think that your dad hates you, do you?" he asked.
"I don't think. I know he does Scott." Stiles replied angrily.
"Stiles when did he say that!" Scott yelled
"About two months ago." He said as if it was no big deal.
"You act like you don't care!" Scott yelled.
"Honestly Scott, I don't know if I do care. It seems like everyone hates me now a days. Like I don't do anything right. I'm sorry that I don't have some special talent, that I'm just a regular person. I can't do the things you guys can do!" He said on the verge of tears.
"Stiles you're a hero! Everyone knows it!"
"Don't lie to me! They always tell me how I get in the way; they always threaten me because I can't defend myself. It fucking sucks Scott. You don't get it, you're always a hero, and you're always congratulated on how great you did. You're always told 'I love you' by people. I don't hear that. I'm never a hero. And I never will be"
Scott got angry "No wonder they never say they love you! You're an asshole! You just complain but you never do anything about it! Your dad has every right to say you're a hyperactive bastard!" he said then left the house slamming the door.
Stiles punched a wall. Tears slid down his cheeks and he cried harder choking out sobs. Scott was right; they have every right to hate him. He was a freaking screw up. He didn't deserve the little he had. He slid out the knife from his pocket and cut into his wrists. He didn't bother wrapping the cuts. He snuck into his dad's room and grabbed his dad's gun. He slowly walked to the river that Matt was drowned in. He brought the gun up to his head and let out a shaky breath. He was ready.
"STILES! STOP!" He heard a desperate cry and saw Scott run towards him "I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" He yelled still running.
"I'M SORRY!" Stiles yelled.
Click. Bang.
The boy had shot himself. By the time Scott could focus enough he could tell his heart was barely beating and he wouldn't last more than 20 minutes unless he got to a doctor.
Scott new it was his fault. He could've saved him if he had just shut up back at the Stillinski residence. He was so caught up in the pact and protecting Allison, he had forgotten Stiles. Stiles was the one there for him through it all and he wasn't there for him when he needed to be. He continued to run Stiles to the hospital
What is it just gets worse, what if its agony now, and just hell later on
I'm fine, yeah besides the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant crushing overwhelming feeling that something terrible is about to happen.
It's not just a feeling, it's like it's a panic attack, you know like I can't even breathe
Stiles remembered saying these things as he woke up in white room. A hospital.
He sighed frustratedly.
"S-stiles. Oh thank God!" he heard a voice say. Scott.
"Scott, what the hell. Why'd you bring me here!" he yelled
The other boy got up and left. Stiles laughed bitterly as he ripped out the IV's and winced. He unplugged the machines.
10 minutes later he knew it was done as Scott came in with a glass of water.
"STIILES!" he yelled and started panicking screaming for doctor.
"I'm not a hero" Stiles said with a last breath before dying.
Scott vividly remembers that. No one that knew Stiles was ever the same. The group never talked unless needed and Scott and Allison broke up. Eventually they moved on but they all swear that when they are sitting by that grave they are comforted by something. A warm presence. A presence that feels like Stiles was there.
One thing was made sure of, a very special thing. They made sure something was engraved on the headstone.
Stiles Stillinski
1995-2013
He will always be known as a hero
What you say can have different effects. You can seriously hurt someone with empty words that would never truly mean. Someone can seem so strong but actually be like glass, and only need one more crack to fall apart. Mind your words and actions. And if you don't know how the words will affect the person don't say them. Because no one can know everything about a person. Please take time to help a person up, say something nice to them, or even give a smile, because when you're as hurt as I am, that makes your day. Here is a piece of the song I was listening to that helped inspire this book.
"And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your love
Without love gone wrong
Life less words carry on
But I know
All I know
Is that the ends beginning
Who I am from the start
Take me home to my heart
Let me go
And I will run
I will not be silenced
All this time spent in vain
Wasted years
Wasted gain
All is lost
Hope remains
And this war's not over
There's a light
There's the sun
Taking all the shattered ones
To the place we belong
And his love will conquer"
-Shattered by Trading Yesterday