The Story Of The Silence:

One whole day since the night she had went on a date with her lover.

Yesterday she spent her morning puking her guts out.

And Scott was next to her every step of the way.

He told her that he couldn't remember what happened last night.

Or that he wasn't told what happened.

Allie thinks Scott was lying to her, but she didn't care.

She needed sleep.

Her eyes flickering open, she realized she was dressed in a Holster shirt, the background being a darkish red, a pair of Holster sweatpants, which were more like pajamas, but she called it her sweatpants, and her hair was twisted into a bun, a few stands falling out, but it was done in thirty seconds.

Or less.

Most likely less at the messiness of it.

If she spent a minute on it, it'd be perfect.

Well, pretty damn close to perfect.

Making her way over to her door, she still had her head pounding.

Stupid headaches.

Stupid hangovers.

That lasted two whole days.

Since the night she completely gotten drunk.

Drunk enough to forget what she said or did.

There was one thing that stuck out to her.

Scott let it slip on accident.

Apparently she hit on him last night.

About to hit on everyone else that was there.

And she was embarrassed once more.

Opening her door, she gripped the wall as she headed down the stairs, greeted by her mother.

It's been days since she actually has talked to her mother.

Almost weeks.

Possibly a month.

"How are you doing, Allie?" Her mother questioned, swinging her purse over her shoulder as she held her keys in her hand.

"Headache. Could you talk less?" The first time her mother acknowledged her being, her existence, and she blew it off because of a headache.

She wanted to tell her more.

But just couldn't.

She was weak.

And afraid.

And she absolutely hated it.

"Just tell your brother I'm working the night shift and will be home sometime around one in the morning tonight, alright?" Sighing, her mother left, the slamming of the door, her loud footsteps and the rattling of the keys in her ears.

Everything seemed to become a million times louder in her mind.

Then she began to think.

Could werewolves get drunk?

How could a werewolf get drunk?

It seemed possible, but unlikely.
What if she was something else?
After all, her wounds healed a hell of a lot slower than Scott's had or Derek's had.

They weren't even that serious sometimes.

She'd scratch her finger on a piece of glass and it'd take an hour or so to heal.

Turning around, she jumped as she saw her brother in front of her.

"Scott, am I a werewolf?" She questioned as her brother dropped the glass he was holding.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't you be a werewolf?" Scott didn't like her being a werewolf, but her being something else was awful.

He couldn't help her if she was something else.
He was sure nobody could.

And he wanted to help.

"Well, for starters I don't heal as fast as werewolves are supposed to, or be anti-drunk when I psychically drink, and then Derek biting me when he wasn't an alpha. What does this make me?" Scott listened to what she had said, suddenly growing confused himself.

"Don't worry about it. It's probably just a different process because a beta bit you. I'll talk to Derek and see what his opinion is about it." Scott seemed to be in a hurry to leave, him not bothering to clean up the glass or have her to ask another question.

Something was wrong.

For the first time since she was born, she was freezing.

Not just winter freezing, because it can't snow in California.

It felt like she was living in Antarctica.

With no clothes on.

Pulling on an American Eagle sweatshirt over her Holster shirt, it fell down to her thighs, her feeling the coldness through her sweatshirt.

At that moment she fell.

Collapsed to the ground.

She couldn't breath.

She clawed at the ground, trying to stand up.

She barely made it down the stairs when she fell on her way down.

The only thing she was successful at was being used as a toy to get to someone.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, she began to crawl army style to the front door.

Her brother wasn't home.

Her mother wasn't home.

Her lover wasn't home.
And if it wasn't his home then, it is now.

She knew she couldn't make it.

And so she thought of survival.

And then she howled, stretching upwards on her palms, letting out an ear piercing howl before falling to the floor, unable to do anything.

That few minutes where painful.

And it only stopped once she caved.

She gave in.

She wasn't weak anymore.

She was brave.

She held on.

She tried her hardest.

She didn't give in until the darkness started to fall over her eyes.

She caved when the darkness started to fall.

Maybe she wasn't weak anymore, but she was silenced.

She couldn't talk.

Or howl.

Or anything.

She was gone.

Somewhere.

She was somewhere where it wasn't cold.

Somebody was holding her.
She was in their arms.

"Allie," The voice whispered in her ear, the warmth of the breath in her ear, her accepting it as it continued to whisper her name. "Allie."

Derek.

She recognized the voice as Derek's.

"Derek," Snuggling further into his chest, her eyes softly opened to find him with his arms wrapped around her in her bed. "Please tell me that you're here."
"Of course I'm here. Why wouldn't I be here?" A feeling washed over her.

A new feeling.

A feeling of difference.

"You aren't real, are you?" She paused, listening to his heartbeat as it faintly pounded against his chest, barely being there.

"I'm here, yet I'm so far away. Why don't you just fall back asleep?" That's where she heard it.

His voice broke.

His voice never breaks.

Not even when he's sad or upset.

It wasn't him.

"What am I to you? To all of you," Pushing out of his arms, she turned to him, his eyes flashing into her's as she saw them sneak into a yellowish color, than a light blue, then a red, and then back to his hazel eyes. "Am I a toy to be played with?"

"Sweetheart," Putting his hand out, he brushed back her hair before cupping her cheek, whispering, "You have always been a toy."

Suddenly everything vanished, her feeling like she was dying.

And then reality hit.

Her eyes flickered around the room she was in.

It took her some time to realize it was her room.

Nobody was home.

There was no footsteps, or talking, or anything.

And it sure as hell wasn't freezing.

Fighting with the blanket, she managed to stand up.

Looking down, she saw what she was wearing.

Black skinny jeans.

Red layered shirt, sleeveless.

Hair pulled into a french braid.

When the hell did she do this?

She didn't care anymore.

Finding her iPhone, she dialed her brother's number.

"Scott," She breathed, hearing him on the other end before continuing. "Where are you?"
"At school. I'm heading to class right now. Is there something wrong?" He didn't know what to think since the last few days have been a disaster.

"No, Scott. Everything's fine. I just missed you." This time she wasn't lying.

She missed her brother.

"I'll be home in two hours when school ends. Will you be okay until then?" Scott questioned, hearing her choke on the other end.

"I'll be fine." She was lying.

Her heartbeat sped up.

She was lying a little too much.

"You know I could always come ho-" Before he could finish, her heartbeat calmed down.

"Could you come home?" She couldn't lie anymore.

She desperately wanted him home.

She wanted to feel safe once more.

"Yeah, of course. Be there in ten minutes." Scott hung up, him agreeing as if he'd come home one way or another.

And he probably would.

Sitting on her bed, she looked up at Scott who was sitting in a chair in front of her.

"Sometimes I tell you everything's okay, like I did half an hour ago. Except everything wasn't okay, Scott. Nothing was okay. Nothing was fine," She felt like she was crying, but soon realized she was when she felt her brother's arms around her and her voice was watery. "I've done something awful, Scott."

She knew what she did.

What she felt.

And everything seemed to be true.

Except she didn't want it to be.

"What did you do?" Scott whispered in her ear, her completely surrounding him as he held her tightly, her heartbeat speeding up as she was afraid.

She was afraid.

Frightened.

Terrified.

"I stopped loving Derek." She felt him tighten his grip on her, almost like he was squeezing her.

"Why?" Scott questioned, but she could tell he didn't care.

Hell, he was happy.

"I remember what he's done. He's not safe enough. He's half the reason I end up with bloody scars and he didn't do anything the night he took me out to dinner. He just stood," Staring blankly, she remembered every single moment of it. "And watched."

"What happened?" Now he was angered, more than he needed to be.

Or maybe it was enough.

"He arrived at the dinner he had planned, which was a picnic at night in the woods next to the cliff where the full moon hung over us. God knows how drunk I was, but Derek was drunk, nevertheless drinking like I was, which was far more than I was supposed to. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to drink at all and could be arrested if I was caught or seen; underage drinking. He forgot how old I was and wanted to put it away, but I simply wouldn't let him," Her throat tightened as she fought through the tears, feeling hurricane Allie about to land. "These two boys came to where we were, and one wanted the bottle of wine. One of them didn't. He wanted me and decided to have me. He watched as he tried to get inside me, and he eventually did with his fingers. Derek had tackled him to the ground, but the other one decided to finish the job. He wanted something out of that night, and thought I was the way to it. He did the same that the other one did, but Derek had stopped him before they could push any further. I felt like he didn't want to save me by the way he watched them and me. What if he doesn't love me anymore and thought it was good riddance. What if he never loved me and was only using me to get to you, Scott? What if there is nothing left of me to be here?"

"Don't cry, Allie. He isn't worth the tears anymore. Never will he be worth the tears." Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he heard her heartbeat speed up, her crying pounding in his ears as he did so.

They had almost raped his younger sister.

And Derek Hale was the witness.

Derek Hale must die.

Half of the day in the McCall house was spent with one sibling crying herself to sleep, the other one planning their revenge on how to murder the witness of his younger sister's almost rape, and the mother not noticing what was happening with her children, her leaving for work.

Her brown eyes sparkled as she woken from her sleep, her rubbing a hand over her face.

She felt awful.

And she should.

She was a total bitch for throwing Derek under the bus; for saying she no longer loved him. How could she just pretend that what she honestly felt wasn't true? After all, she didn't ask him why he didn't help her earlier, but he at least did help, somewhat.

She was a bitch.

A total bitch.

And maybe she should have stayed in that prison they called a mental institution.

After all, she was a hell of a lot safe in there.

She didn't fall in love with Derek Hale.

Or get kidnapped.
Or spill blood.

Or anything.

It was silence in there.

Pure silence.

And it felt nice.

Shutting her eyes, she knew what she had to do.

She had to go back.

Back to the prison.

Back to the mental institution.

Back to her hell.

Her black All-Star converse tapped on the ground as she made her way down the street. Stepping in ran puddles on the empty street, they splashed against her black skinny jeans, but nothing mattered. Turning, she lifted her head to see the mental institution high in the sky, almost like it was a million feet tall.

It was needed.

Walking from the street towards the door, her hand reached up towards the doorknob, twisting it as she opened it, walking inside. Looking around, the entrance was the same of how she remembered it, the check in and out desk being in the same spot with the same nurse that had been there since she was admitted.

"Allie, we haven't seen you since you were let out. How have you been?" Her name was Anna Melanie, one of the many nurses at the mental institution, and she reminded her of her mother.

Helping people.

Both helped people.

And she was kind.

A hell of a lot kinder to her than anyone else was in the institution.

"Anna, it's not working like it was supposed to. My family wasn't the same as they were two years ago, and now me being there affects everything. And then there is this feeling that if dying for me had happened, everything would be better. This is the closest thing to death that there is." Watching as she told Anna her story, her expressions were caught of every detail, and everything hurt as she spoke to her.

"Once you do this, only a person over eighteen can take you out. Are you certain this is what you want?" Some mental institutions would allow you, if you were to put yourself in, to tell them that you wanted out.

That wasn't how this mental institution ran.

"Positive." Allie confirmed, and so it was done.

Alexandria Raven McCall was the newest member of the mental institution.

At least newest if she hadn't counted being there for two years before.

Name: McCall, Raven Alexandria

Age: Fifteen years old

Gender: Female

Reason: Feels unneeded at home, wants to die

Stay: Uncertain

The typing of her form being filled out had scared her.

It sped her heartbeat up.

Closing her eyes, she remembered the last time she heard that typing.

Memories.

It was the time she was fighting her brother as the nurses began to take her.

And his expression had cared for her.

And it also told her they'd see each other soon.

Little did he know that he wouldn't see her in two years.

And her mother didn't have an expression on her face.
She was too hurt by the thought of putting her daughter away to even move.

Nobody knew how long it'd be until they'd see her face once more.

Nobody knew two years later everything would change.