A/N: My apologizes, I could not figure out how to post a story! I want to thank the handful of people who Favorited and followed my story! You are the reason I am posting this, even though I didn't think I can handle it. I got super nervous posting the Prologue that I had deleted it two times before my boyfriend told me to stop being a baby. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, I will post the next whenever I get the chance! Please review, follow and favorite. And I will see you guys, when I see you guys.
DISCLAIMER: I will only say this once, I do not OWN TEEN WOLF. I only own my character Josephine, her family, and any characters that should arise that were not apart of TEEN WOLF.
1.
There are pills in different shapes, sizes, colors, there are pills that would come in orange containers that screamed your name and there are pills that were slipped into the palm by a disheveled man as he passed you by. There were pills that made you forget; pills that made you a different person and there were pills that made you happy.
They had told me it was a coping mechanism; giving me a metal breaks from the world. When I refused all the pills, they insisted with one hand down my throat, dropping them in with a sweet smile. Afterwards, they would shove me into a freezing room with a woman who constantly scowling at me, telling me to take my pills and be the happy girl they knew I could be. Though, she always seemed to be in a huge hurry after I had broke down, agreeing with her, ending the session when I started to tell her about my violent tendencies. She had told me to talk to my parents about it, that it wasn't her place.
When I took too many of the pills, too many to see clearly, too many to think straight, they would shake their heads at me a pitiful expression etching on their plastic faces, muttering. "It'll be okay."
The pill that they had refused to let me stop taking was the oddest of them all. It was a little metallic blue pull, they persisted that I could, no matter what, always take them when you wake up, to never forget to. It was a pill I was unfamiliar with at first, but they soon became a daily routine for me—to stop my anger.
I had only agreed, because they pills left such a superb feeling that I couldn't help it. I was addicted; hooked to that little blue pill.
Slowly, I ran my dry tongue over my chewed up lips, sitting up as my tense muscles groaned in pain. I pulled out a cigarette out of the pack next to me, lighting one. Inhaling the toxic, blue smoke, I leaned back on my pillows, letting it waver out of my mouth in smooth waves. I knocked all of the pills on the nightstand to the floor, not wanting to bother with them today, but I pulled the baggie from my nightstand, pulling out a certain blue pill. I brought it out, staring at its reflective case before dropping it in my mouth. I swallowed it dry, before continuing to smoke.
As I waited for the pill to kick in, I noticed that my muscles were stiff, my mind was attentive of every movement around and I felt something within, trying to escape. I groaned as my lungs felt like it was being tugged, making it harder to breath.
I shrugged it off, figuring it was my addiction telling me that I needed more, so much more.
My hands dangled in front of me, my scars blaring out, and the bruises were so contrast with the pale of my skin. My knuckles were swollen and the healing cuts were staring back at. I rubbed at them absentmindedly.
I shut my eyes when I heard my father let out yet another long, annoyed sigh from downstairs. It didn't strike me as odd that I could hear him through all the walls and space that had separated us. It was just something I was gifted with; I've always had astonishing hearing since birth. The gurgle of the coffee maker, the hum of the fridge and the ding of the toaster all blared in my ears like a freight train.
"Josephine!" The shout of my name made me jump as it blasted in my ears. I covered them, letting my cigarette drop onto my comforter, burning a hole. I cussed as I quickly snatched it, stamping it on my ashtray. I waved my hands around to rid my room of the smell, but falling out of bed. My mother, Ann, was still huffing and puffing downstairs when I didn't immediately respond to her shout. "You need to leave now if you want to be on time."
I scowled. School, otherwise known as the barren wasteland of Beacon Hills. Where a good portion of the student body gawked and whispering hateful things about me, assuming that I could not hear them. I didn't have many friends there, nor did I have the need to make any. I'm sure I would be open to the idea of trying to be kind to other, but since everyone had deemed me as unattractive and the resident pill-head; I couldn't help, but refuse to make an effort.
I blindly snatched a soft pair of skinny jeans, along with a plain top and a cardigan. Deeming it acceptable, I added a pair of boots and a brown jacket. Turning to my full length mirror, I ran a brush through my unruly blonde hair as it tumbled down my back. My ashen and dazed face stared back at me, my dark blue eyes glassy and rimmed in red. My nose was crooked, due to an incident the year before where I had broken it. My cheekbones sliced through my pale face and when I parted my lips, I noticed that they were void of color as well. I frowned back at my reflection, not quite feeling disgust, but discomfort. I sure was nothing to fawn after, but I was something to point out, to snicker at.
Shaking my head at my reflection, I turned away, double-checking to make sure all the imperfections that bored my body were hidden by the thin clothing. I retrieved my jacket and bag from when I had laid it on the desk, and then I flicked my light off, engulfing myself in darkness for a moment. I relished in the blindness before stepping out into the light of the hallway.
Almost tumbling down the stairs, I latched myself onto the banister, allowing it to lead me to the expansive kitchen. My mother sat at the island, a coffee mug was placed in-between her dainty hands as she took in my appearance.
When she made a grunt of disapproval—that I dismissed to spar my feeling—I grinned at the pair. "Morning," I greeted, grabbing a to-go packet of pop tarts from the cupboard. Stewart, my father, barked at his assistant on his headset as he got a travel mug out of the dishwasher.
My mother's eyes stared on me for a moment longer, before letting out a huff. "Why don't you at least try to look decent today, Josephine? A little make-up? Maybe some heels?" She spat out, taking a long sing of her coffee. Her own honey blonde hair was straight and pulled back in a delicate bun. She pressed a hand to her chest, showing off her diamond wedding ring and collection of pearls that was strung around her long neck. Even at seven in the morning, her make-up was done to perfection and she was dressed in a flattering, maroon dress, complete with closed-toe black heels. She had a black shawl draped over her thin shoulders as it rose and fell to match her huffing.
I shrugged, with a mouthful of food. "I dunno," I waited until I swallowed. "I got to go!" I dropped the wrapper into the trashcan, turning on my heels and walking out the door.
"Bye, sweetheart," My father called out prior to turning back to her assistant, barking out more orders.
A beat later, just as I was swinging the door shut, my mother joined in. "Have a good day." Then I heard the sound of her heels going towards the sitting room.
I bit my lip in frustration, followed by an exaggerated eye roll. I slammed the door, stepping out in the frigid, autumn air.
My neighbor, a complete jackass named Jackson, was whipping out of his driveway. His silver Porsche gleamed in the morning sun, causing my eyes to squint against the glare. He turned his head, looking over at me. He chuckled before finishing off his laughter with a glare in my direction. He stuck his long, middle finger up at me. I sighed, his girlfriend has hated me since the fifth grade, so there was no doubt that he would too. His tires then squealed but before he took off, I heard him mutter in the comfort of his car. "Fucking freak!"
I raised my eyebrows as he took off down the winding, residential road. It was going to be a long day. I wished I had taken the rest of my pills so I could go through the day in a daze, but instead, I just settled into my car.
Just as I was reaching over to turn on my car, I noticed a familiar curly-headed boy emerging from the house across the street. His blue green eyes surveyed his lawn before he started towards his bike. His long legs moved fluidly as I stepped out of my car with a smile. He was now rolling his bike towards the road. "Isaac!" I shouted, a puff of white smoke billowing out. He jumped, dropping his bike. He looked up startled. "You need a ride?"
He nodded, leaving his bike where it laid and jogged towards me with a smile of his own. "Hey," He welcomed me, shivering. He jumped into my car without me.
I slipped into my own seat again, turning the heat on blast and turning the vents so they faced him. Strangely, it took a lot for me to get cold. "Hey yourself," I responded, turning the car around in my driveway before starting towards the overbearing high school. He was one of the only people at BHHS that didn't let the rumors that circulated me stop from being my only friend. Granted, he wasn't very popular either, but I was grateful for the fact I didn't have to eat lunch alone anymore.
"How was your weekend?" Isaac then asked before leaning back in his seat, looking over at me with his dark blue eyes, so similar to mine. I was momentarily astonished by how handsome he was; I just couldn't understand how no one saw the beauty within the damaged boy.
I shrugged, "Did homework, sat in on one of my mother's parties and basically got shit-faced on wine, surrounded by Beacon Hills' elite women." I let out a bark of laughter. "And you? Lacrosse player like you must have gone to Lydia's party this weekend."
Isaac laughed at that, "Yup, I was there, right next to Jackson, as we chugged beer and played coins." He shook his head from the thought before letting his smile disappear. "I sat at home and did homework." He admitted eventually before turning away.
"Next weekend, you are going to be shit-faced with me with BH's finest." I joked.
That brought Isaac out of his depression as he chuckled. I pulled into the school's parking lot, sliding into the small space in between an Impala and a beat-up, light blue Jeep. Two boys stood next to the Jeep, talking. They looked up at us with blank expressions, before heading into the school, continuing their conversation.
I turned to Isaac with a grin, "I like you. You make me invisible."
"And I like you," Isaac got out of the car, looking back at me. "You make me noticeable."
We both started the short trek to the school with a grimace on my face and a blank expression on his. Lydia Martin, my own tormentor, looked over at us, her gaze falling on me. The edges of her pink lips turned into a grin, opening her mouth to deliver this week's joke, before she was tugged away by a girl with doe eyes and long, wavy brown hair.
I looked over at Isaac who raised his eyebrows at me. "Lucky girl," He threw his lanky arm around me. "Alas, we must separate. The library is calling for me!" He promised to meet me at my locker before lunch before shuffling away to the library where he was a student attendant for the beginning of the day. I watched him disappear into the swarming students before disappearing myself in my first period class.