CHAPTER THREE:
"What is to give life must endure burning."
- viktor e. frankl
It took an eternity for him to fall asleep.
Stiles didn't know why, as he contemplated this the next morning, waking up in a sleeping bag in the McCall living room much like he did the night before. He'd been sleeping fairly well the past few weeks, finally submitting to the nightmares, becoming numb to their images. He'd finally stopped screaming in the middle of the night.
But last night, he'd tossed and turned, trying his best not to disturb those sleeping around him. The only one he hadn't been worried about waking was Kira; if she could sleep through Scott's donkey kicks and snoring from where she was snuggled underneath his arm, then nothing could wake her.
Scott, using his all-powerful alpha authority, decided that they would turn it into a pack weekend, seeing as they spent the entirety of Friday night keeping Liam from unconsciously wolfing out and destroying things.
Considering that he'd been up the entire night, then busy all of the next day, Stiles should be exhausted.
Instead of fatigue, however, Stiles felt supremely paranoid. Like eyes were burning lasers into the back of his neck.
If he wasn't so used to the feeling he'd mistake it for something else - jitters, fear from a horror movie he watched just a couple hours ago, something along those lines. But, unfortunately, the world of the supernatural had given him plenty of experiences with being watched, and the itch that burned all over his body that came with it.
"To hell with this," Stiles muttered in defeat. Being quiet be damned, this sleeping bag with suffocating him.
After kicking his way free, Stiles made a beeline for the kitchen, hoping a glass a milk and a sleeve of Oreos would help soothe him to sleep.
Unfortunately, he missed the silent, angry rattle of the hanging picture frames as he rounded the corner to the kitchen.
The sight of him boiled her, making her bones rattle and her eyes to darken dangerously.
He was a problem that needed to be exterminated.
Her parents gave her a week until her inevitable demise at Beacon Hills High. That gave her plenty of time to check their website and decide that the school was purely sports-based. Lacrosse, basketball, volleyball, track. It couldn't get anymore closer to a prison if it tried.
After the incident with her sketchbook, Claudia hadn't appeared again, which only offered a temporary relief before the alarm set in.
With a growing hit list and her strength beginning to double from what it started when she first appeared, Isaiah had good reason to lay awake, staring at her TV-lit ceiling until she was forcibly falling asleep.
It was darkness the entire night.
The whole day she spent doing a plethora of things - from avoiding her parents to drawing the jersey to picking out her outfit to deciding if she wanted to use a purse or handbag, or if it would even be appropriate for a freshman.
She didn't know any more about pop culture than she did in seventh grade, and that meant that Miley Cyrus had still been on Disney Channel, and nerd glasses hadn't come back.
To help refresh her mind a little, Isaiah spent most of her isolation anonymously surfing through the few social media sites that didn't require accounts - celebrity profiles on twitter; the most popular pages on Facebook; what videos were the most famous on YouTube.
Don't even mention the endless black hole of oddities that was Tumblr.
Really, Isaiah scrolled through the google results of what typed in, watching unfamiliar words swarm by as she ultimately decided that social media didn't need to be part of her life at the moment, not when it formed its own second language that everyone on the internet knew but her. No thank you.
Shutting down her laptop, Isaiah turned to her phone. It was brand new, like everything else she'd gotten in the past two weeks she'd been home, and much like the new backpack and school supplies that had awaited her on her bed her homecoming day, she found it to be too flashy for her taste.
The last thing on Isaiah's mind was fitting in with the new wave of her generation, like their phones and clothes and other fancy accessories.
But surely if her parents heard this, they would drop dead on the spot.
Isaiah had spent a lot of time in Eichen House thinking. There wasn't much to do there but think, and take your medicine, and talk about why you're crazy, and breathe, and go a little crazier.
She thought about her parents, and how different she'd always been from them, even before they locked her up. Isaiah didn't look down on the people with lesser money than her, or bark at the staff of seventy that was always on hand, or even bothered on touching money on a daily basis.
Isaiah knew she was the black sheep amongst her mother's country club gals and her father's bourbon buddies with equally loaded lifestyles, but she couldn't help but be content with less.
She sighed, rubbing at her eyes as she peeled off her socks and shimmied out of her jeans and into a soft pair of flannel pants, ditching her bra and sweater but keeping the tank underneath it.
Hopefully, her peers will be kinder to her return than her parents.
"I'm just saying, why can't we just...detain her for a little?"
"Stiles, she's probably freaking out about her first day. She doesn't need to be ambushed."
"Scott, it's not ambush, just a little...intervention…"
"Like the little intervention you gave me at the lake house?" Liam cut in, fixing a scowl at Stiles.
Stiles squawked indignantly, looking as if he was about to protest, but Scott put a hand on his chest, pushing him back.
"We're not going to do anything to her," the alpha turned to assure Liam, smiling.
Truthfully, Liam wasn't worried of what the pack would do when meeting Isaiah for the first time. She'd always been a people person, the type to always make fast friends. And the pack was harmless the majority of the time, much worse than them lurking the halls of Beacon Hills High.
But Liam knew firsthand how blunt they when it came to filling someone in on the supernatural happenings in the town. The last thing he wanted was Isaiah ditching him because of his friends before he even had a chance to amend their friendship.
"This poor girl is probably freaking out right now," Kira sighed, looking on in pity.
"Do we even know this girl's in immortal danger or a threat?" Lydia piped up, looking disinterested on the topic at hand. "Her name wasn't on the list, and at Eichen House, she probably knew Meredith before she...passed. She might have a handle on her powers."
For once, Liam found himself mentally agreeing with Lydia. He wanted Isaiah excluded from this for as long as possible.
"She might have information," Scott pressed. "And at the moment, we need as much help as we can get. Besides, I would feel a lot better if we were able to keep an eye on her, just in case."
Liam looked to clock on the wall impatiently. They still had fifteen minutes before homeroom, but the acrid smell of paint was overwhelming his sense, along with the stools that wouldn't stop squeaking. Of all meeting places, the art room hadn't been on the top of his list.
"Let's give her today," Kira suggested, kicking her legs back and forth. "The first day of a new school is always scary, and the last thing she needs to have on her shoulders is Beacon Hills' high homicide count. Plus, she's in the same grade as Liam, they have to have at least some classes."
When everyone looked at him, Liam sighed before giving a small nod. "Yeah, I'll look out for her," he vowed. "But I doubt much will happen. If she was a threat, someone would have tried something in Eichen while she was isolated and there were more alibis. She'll be fine."
As he said it, he tried to make himself believe it.
"You've been quiet," Stiles commented to Malia.
The girl in question had hardly said a thing since the pseudo-pack meeting had been called to order, staring blankly ahead of her as everyone else spoke.
"Something's off today," Malia muttered, then grabbed her bag from where she had set it at her feet and took off for the doors.
All the remaining pack members turned to Stiles, looking for an explanation.
"We're still working on manners," was all he said.
While Liam didn't like Stiles, even he could tell something was also bugging him. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual, and every little thing seemed to grate on his nerves lately, as if he couldn't be bothered to let his guard down.
Such sketchy, paranoid behavior put Liam on edge.
Like something terrible was about to happen.
He hated that feeling.
Her parents weren't making it any easier when they arranged for a driver to take her to school.
It wasn't a limousine, but pulling up in front of the building in a sleek black Mercedes couldn't help but turn heads.
Over the rim of her pulled down sunglasses, she met eyes with the driver, a graying old man named Henry, and felt a little better than she did leaving the house.
"I'll be right out here to escort you home at 3:30 sharp," he promised her solemnly she picked up her bag from beside. She had decided late that night on no purse.
"Of course. See you, Henry." Isaiah climbed out and turned, waving goodbye as he pulled away and smoothly started down the street.
Of the five drivers her parents found necessary, Henry was definitely her favorite, if not for his jokes, then undoubtedly for the bag of gummy animals he always gave her on her birthday.
Climbing the stairs to the north entrance of the school felt like hiking Mount Everest in sandals and short shorts. Even in her dark jeans and modest shirt and jacket combo, Isaiah felt like she was in no more than her bra and underwear. If the eyes on were anything to go by, she might as well had been.
Frost coated her tangled intestines as she stood at the top of the stairs, the glacier resting against her ribcage threatening to burst into a million of shards.
With stiff limbs, Isaiah opened the door and stepped inside.
The halls seemed to grow quiet when her boots hit the aluminum tile, the small tap of the rubber soles hitting the floor attracting the eyes of her piranha peers. They looked at her, their eyes like lasers focusing their red dots on her forehead, opening their mouths to expose their rows of razor teeth, lusting to sink them into her already soiled reputation.
Whispers rose into the air as strong and biting as smoke, rising the instant she put her right foot forward.
Every move she made was commented on, the flood of voices commenting on the arm that rose to adjust her sunglasses, judged the way she walked to the office.
As she expected, she could get no closer to hell.
Isaiah walked into the office, taking the privacy her dark lens provided to scope out the room. The beige walls did no job of hiding the cigarette burns above the wool cushioned chairs across from the secretary's desk, or the pencil lead trails left by wobbly pencils.
The entire room smelt like cheap perfume.
The only comfort Isaiah gathered from the room was the constant click-click of nails hitting keyboard. Even when one set stopped, another took its place. It was the only constant Isaiah had heard since the wailing woman of Eichen House, and for a moment, she quietly stood in the doorway, taking in the endless sound before the secretary noticed her.
The woman offered a plastic smile, not unlike the ones Isaiah had been getting from her mother. She didn't even bother to show her piranha teeth.
"Hello, you must be our new student." At the woman's words, Isaiah stoically stepped from the safety of the doorway and into the unfamiliar waters of the room. "Isaiah Montgomery, is it?"
"Yes, it is." Isaiah met her tone with one that was blander, giving off no interest.
"What an...interesting name," the woman commented, looking up from her computer screen to giver her once-over. She didn't even try to hide her disdain when spotting the glint of her simple silver band bracelet.
"If it's all the same to you, I would rather just get my information and get to my classes as quickly as possible," Isaiah rebuttled, hiking her backpack further up her shoulder. Anything this lady said on the oddity of her name was nothing Isaiah hadn't heard before, the majority of the comments uttered by her parents themselves.
The secretary gave her a look from over the rim of her cat frame glasses, but Isaiah couldn't be any less fazed. As she learned long ago, this town's bark was worse than its bite.
When the woman caught on that Isaiah wasn't going to back down, she turned away with her turned up high, reaching to the left and grabbing a thick manila packet.
"Here's all your information. Homeroom starts in twenty minutes, so I suggest you get moody."
"Thank you." Isaiah showed her teeth in a grimace as she accepted the offered packet, using all her energy to hold back the nasty name that wanted to fall off her tongue as she turned and walked back into the hallway.
ISAIAH E. MONTGOMERY
Locker #1240
2-32-14
Student ID: 21107788
TRIMESTER 1
FRENCH…..MONTEL
ECONOMICS…..PEIRCE
H ALGEBRA 1….HARLEY
AP ENGLISH…...SINGER
H BIOLOGY….WALLACE
PHYS ED…..BAILIFF
TECHNOLOGY…...STARK
W HISTORY….ASHLEY
*Please have the student get their username and password information from professor Stark for school-only internet/computer access.
The map of the school was in bird's eye view, a glossy 15 x 15 paper with neon lines for hallways and faux hieroglyphic shapes for stairs. Bright red ink marked which rectangle on either side of the neon lines were which classroom and belong to what teacher. Bold Sharpie circles label the wings.
Isaiah huffed as she struggled with her papers and the map, practically feeling the ink of the glossy page as it stained the webbing of her hand. Her troubles did nothing to stop the attention she was attracting as she moved down the hall, head occasionally moving side to side as she read the small brass locker plates for 1240.
She finally came across an entire bank away from Singer's door. Isaiah gripped the rusty metal handle between her fingers, rolling her eyes as her inky fingers came away with flakes of rust.
Spinning the dial with practiced ease, Isaiah carefully went over how much time she had. Ten minutes wasn't enough to scope out all her classrooms; her locker was an entire hall and a staircase away from her homeroom. She was lucky if she had enough time to stuff all her brand new books into her locker and make it to her seat in time.
As Isaiah began to speedily stack her supplies in class order, the stream of students filling up the halls broke apart. Before she could turn to see why, the cause of it came hurling at her, full force.
"Hiya! Please tell me you're Isaiah or else I did a lot of physical movement for no reason."
The brunette speaking didn't seem to take pauses or breathe between each sentence, solely using speech on one puff of air. She was also panting, leaning against the locker beside Isaiah's, hands on knees.
"Yes, I am," Isaiah responded slowly, with an even slower nod. "And you are…?"
The girl, after recovering enough to stand up straight, smiled proudly and stuck a hand out. "Dana Albright at your service. The official welcome wagon of Beacon Hills High!"
Juggling her binder and textbook into one arm, Isaiah reached out so that they could pump hands twice.
"What are you, this place's tour guide?" she snorted as she stuck her head in her locker, trying not to have all of her school supplies collapse onto the floor.
Dana shrugged at the blonde's back. "More like, the principal is too lazy to give any tours himself, so he makes one of the students do it." She laughed a little, crossing her arms. "Those lazy fucks even gave you my schedule. If it bugs you, the guidance counselor can change it."
Triumphantly, Isaiah pulled out of her locker, finally satisfied with her pyramid of new textbooks and binders.
"Nah, I should be good." The blonde offered a smile as she carefully tried to observe the girl.
Dana seemed nice enough, with big brown eyes that flitted this way and that, framed by eyelashes that flapped like butterfly wings. Her hair was tucked into a half pony, feathers hanging from the locks that spilled over her leather jacket.
Not the worst person to be greeting her on her first day.
"Good thing too," Dana was saying when Isaiah finished her mental inspection. "Morell is kinda creepy, in that weird way the allies in all the good suspense movies are, you know?"
Isaiah nodded as they started down the hall, pretending that sixth grade hadn't been the last time she'd seen any kind of suspense movie.
But the name Morell struck something in depths of her mind. Something about that name was familiar, but god forbid she actually know what.
Instead of pondering it, however, Isaiah just smile and nodded when Dana offered her a spot a her lunch table and tried not to think about how the only experience she had with French anything was French fries.
The frost inside her was thinner now, melting as Dana dragged her down the hall.
It felt good.
"That new kid is hot."
Mason didn't even bother with a greeting before jumping straight into the topic of the day.
"For a girl?" Liam didn't miss a beat, twisting the cap of his juice with a smirk.
His friend rolled his eyes. "Yeah, for a girl. But everyone's talking about her."
Liam couldn't deny that. Whether Isaiah wanted it or not, she was definitely in the spotlight. And unfortunately, with the reputation this school had, was likely to stay until the next homicide, which would take a while with the official disbandment of the deadpool, thank god.
All things considered, it was fairly easy to keep an eye on her throughout the day. So far, the only person Liam had seen her talk to was Dana, one of the less oblivious of his classmates about the town, to put it nicely. But if the two had been discussing supernatural matters, they were doing a damn good job of hiding it.
"But it's still pretty weird that the school let her transfer so quickly," Mason was saying around a mouthful of fries when Liam stopped scanning the cafeteria.
"How so?"
"Dude, she came Eichen. Eichen, the freaky asylum on the hill?" Mason stared at him wide-eyed, as if he too should be astonished by this. Maybe if he wasn't a werewolf or didn't know that Stiles had been there once, then he probably would have been.
"Yeah, I know what it is." Liam took a large swig of his juice before continuing. "But with this town's homicide record, are you that surprised that they let asylum patients attend high school?" Honestly, he'd been more shocked when Scott explained the aspect of not getting drunk to him.
(Which, he still found to be an utter disappointment, because it also meant there was no getting high.)
"I don't know, man," Mason sighed. He moved on to his burger, which the cafeteria ladies had taken to burning to a charred oval of meat. However, that didn't stop him from taking a bite. "There's just...something different about her, you know?"
Liam grimaced as he ducked to avoid flying bits of food as his friend spoke, but couldn't help but agree.
There was no denying that Liam was expecting an entirely different Isaiah than the one that disappeared two years ago. Stiles and Lydia had both told stories about Eichen House, all of them grim. And Meredith, a shell of the person she should be, was living proof of the changes that place had on a person.
But a different, buried part of him didn't want to believe that. That part of him remembered how stubborn Isaiah had always been, choosing to believe her way was the right one. And her way was always the positive one. To think that such a beautiful and strong person like her was broken by a place like Eichen was believable, but not acceptable.
Unfortunately, Liam had no proof of either at the moment. Instead of walking over to the table Dana and Isaiah were at like a man, he watched them from a distance and idly avoided the flying pieces of chewed up burger that came flying at him whenever Mason spoke.
There didn't seem to be any right way to approach her.
The change of everything in her departure sickened her. The school, the neighborhood, those god awful church ladies. It all piled on until she was practically boiling underneath it all.
Unlike her years as a high schooler, the vulgar nature of the students had increased tenfold. Hoots and hollers around every corner, clear disobedience in the face of their authority figures, it all was so disappointing.
But Claudia was please to watch to Isaiah, hunched over her starter packet in World History, behaving like such a good girl, hanging on to her teacher's every word.
Yes, there was no denying her success in picking her faithful little banshee.
It was shame, though, that her own son couldn't behave so accordingly. Of only he wasn't so problematic.
Although, soon it wouldn't be an issue. Soon, she would be free of her ghastly chains on This Side, and he would step in to take her place. Willingly or not.
This chapter was kind of hard to write, to be honest. I wanted them to meet, but not have face-to-face interaction yet, so I decided to turn Liam into a little stalker...hehe.
Updating will unfortunately become a little flakier than it already is because I'm going back to school tomorrow, so I thought I would update as an advance apology. I think this one is one of the longest, so far.
Please review and tell me what you think of Isaiah and Claudia so far! (An evil Claudia is surprisingly hard to write...)