It started off as a seemingly harmless dream.

This was in the beginning; it was the very first dream I had after turning, so I didn't know what was going on until it, well, had gone on.

Every night for about a week, I'd open my eyes in the dream and I would be standing at the start of some wide open field; it was actually kind of beautiful, the way the hues of dark sky blended and meshed with the shaky leaves that made up the trees and faded into the shades of grass below it. But there was also something wrong with it, not appearance-wise necessarily; I just remember something feeling off. It was beautiful the same way a gravestone or a rainstorm is; it was beautifully haunting. And then there was the stillness of it all; how there were never any other animals or people or insects or anything else. It was always just me. And the calendulas.

It's almost always night time in my dreams and this one wasn't an exception. Except the thing was there were these flowers, and they were always outstretched up towards the sky, like they thought the sun was out. They were a bright, vibrant orange color and they kind of looked like marigolds but… I took a psychology course back at my old school and we had just finished this chapter on dreams and the symbolism behind what people see in them. Like for instance, a reoccurring dream means that your subconscious is determined to get a message across to you, and I wanted equally as determined to know what that was. So naturally the curiosity took over and I started looking stuff up online. I tried to find out what type of flower it was that I was seeing, and it took me endless scrolling on about five different gardening blog websites and four cups of tea to find it but I did. It was a flower called the calendula flower.

In Mexico, the calendula flower represents death. In the Victorian language the flower had just as bad of a reputation; it is known as the symbol for mental anguish. And not far behind those meanings were grief, despair, and sorrow. I started questioning again why the flowers always seemed like they were reaching up towards the sun and then I thought, maybe it wasn't because they thought that they were seeing the sun, maybe it was because they were hoping that one dream they would.

There was this parting through the middle of the field where there were none of the flowers would grow, kind of like a path I guess. And every night in the dream I would try and make it as far as I could down the path, but I always woke up before I got any further than I had the night before. It was like every night I was allowed to see further and further down the path, closer to seeing the hidden message, and then just like that I would be thrown back right where I started. Then one night I finally made it all the way to the middle of that field and, there was a guy, kneeling over something on the ground. He was wearing clear-framed glasses and a brown cable-knit sweater, and his eyes looked at me with a deep concentration of what looked like desperation. And when he heard that I was standing there he moved his head up to look at me, I saw that he was leaning over a bicycle. I'm not sure what the bike had to do with anything but I do remember from my class that children's toys or bicycles are actually a common theme in dreams, often referring to an emotion that was suppressed in childhood.

I'm in full control of my body and actions most of the time in my dreams so I asked the man I didn't recognize what he was doing. But he just kept staring at me in the same frantic and panicked way and there was this pause between us, like he was caught up in the middle of this moment where he was doing something he shouldn't have been and I had just walked in on him. I stood there while he kept staring at me in the eyes with his mouth open, searching and desperate for words. When he finally spoke, he only said one phrase.

"I can't fix it."

After that, I remember feeling slightly frightened and I took a step backwards. I knew I was dreaming but it all felt so real. After I did that, it was like I blinked. And both the man and the bicycle were gone. But there was a headstone where they had both been.

Isaac didn't remember much about the night that the cross country team had been forced to spend the night at Motel California. The wolf's bane had gotten in all of their heads and besides the pieces that everyone had told him, there wasn't much of what happened that he could piece together. Boyd had tried to drown himself in the bathtub and he had been too caught up in the avid flashbacks he had to even react to anything in the real world. And it was because of that that there was one specific moment that he remembered rather clearly; it was the moment he was yelling with his father.

It wasn't something he had made it a point to think about or relive simply because he hadn't wanted to. But it was like as soon as he heard the phrase "I can't fix it" all of it came flooding back. "I can't fix it" was the phrase he had repeatedly yelled out when he was sitting on that bed in the hotel, yelling back at the voice of his father. So when he heard this time, there wasn't any doubt in his mind that this girl was telling the truth about what she saw. The bike he had used to get away from his dad that one last night, even down to the part about what his dad was wearing. It was like talking to some kind of psychic for crying out loud. And the flowers. He knew exactly the kind she was talking about. They were the bright orange ones, and he had seen them on multiple graves in the cemetery back when he worked the night shift digging graves under the instruction of his father. He had seen them on a few graves here and there, including his mother's.

"Isaac?"

The boy didn't respond. There had been a certain point in the story, right up to leading up about what his father had said in the dream, that I had taken notice he was beginning to draw back into his mind and now I was regretting not having stopped sooner.

"Hey, Isaac? Isaac, look at me."

His eyes flicked up from the floor directly into mine.

"You knew." He said and I couldn't tell if he had meant to sound accusing. It wasn't fair for me to feel the sting of guilt that I did but it was there.

"But I didn't know." I rebutted. "I had no idea this dream even meant anything- It was the first one I saw that actually happened, I-"

"What are you doing here."

We both looked up. There was Derek, standing at the top of a set of stairs, the light of the moon illuminating the background behind him and outlining his silhouette. Everything about his persona and his stance should have intimidated me; I should have been afraid of him from the start when I saw him for the first time in real life back at the vet. But I knew that that was his goal; he wanted me to be intimidated by him. He wanted everyone to buy into this bad guy act but I wasn't sold. And the only reason I had even recognized it was because I had seen it all too many times before. It was the same look I had worn for the first week I was with Deucalion.

"Something bad is going to happen." I said as he made his way towards us. I stood too, hesitantly stepping forward. "And I think you're the only person who can help me figure out what it is."

I told Derek about what I had seen in my dream, whether I thought he wanted to hear it or not.

It seemed like it was progressing each night, showing me something like it was leading up to whatever it was that was going to happen this time. Seeing muddy or dirty water in a dream indicates that you are wallowing in negative emotions and in my dream the entire town had been underwater, which was why I was concerned that this was something that wasn't only going to affect an individual or a select group of people, but the entire town.

"You keep telling me not to jump." I said.

"So don't jump." Derek said nonchalantly. "What's so hard about that?"

"I'm not talking about jumping rope." I replied. "Jumping in dreams can mean a multitude of things, like a fear of facing uncertainty or the need to take a risk."

"Well it sounds like you're already facing uncertainty because you have no idea what this all even means." Derek shrugged in an annoyed manner. "And you took a risk coming here in the middle of the night. And like you said, I kept telling you not to."

"I can't believe you're just shrugging this off?" I said, dropping my hands at my sides. "You aren't even the slightest bit concerned that maybe this all means something? Aren't you curious why you're the one I keep seeing in these dreams?"

"Look," Derek said. "As far as I'm concerned these dreamsyou're having? They're not real. And until you have actual proof that what happens in them is real, don't waste my time. And I suggest you don't waste your own."

Defeated, I continued to stand where I was and watch as Derek turned and began walking away.

"But she does have proof."

Both Derek and I turned to see Isaac now standing, hands in his pockets.

"Oh really? And what's that?"

"She saw what happened to my father."

Derek's stance stiffened slightly. He seemed to shake it off rather quickly but he still took a pause before responding. "That's different than this; that could've been coincidence. At the time there were multiple people being killed when Jackson was-"

"Well I believe her." Isaac said, cutting him off.

There was a moment of silent arguing, with me caught in the middle between Isaac staring at Derek and Derek glaring back at the beta.

"Fine. Believe whatever you want, just stop trying to make me a part of it."

With that, Derek turned and stormed off in the direction had come from. I let out my breath and chewed on the inside of my lip.

"Thanks." I said. "You didn't have to defend me."

"I think you're right." Isaac said, coming closer. "I don't believe that all this just doesn't mean anything."

"It was a mistake coming here…" I trailed off in further thought, looking back at the staircase. "All I did was manage to piss him off."

"It's his own fault," Isaac said. "He knows you're right too, he's just trying to act like it doesn't matter because he doesn't want to believe that something could be happening."

"Yeah well, it sure would be more convincing on my end if I actually could explain what that was."

"Well we're going to figure it out." Isaac said suddenly. I turned and looked back to him. I was completely flattered that he had been so initially trusting, and at the same time I couldn't help but feel guilty that he was.

I folded my arms around myself and in an uncertain tone I let myself say, "I hope so."

"Do you want to stay the night here?"

Without meaning to my head snapped up in his direction. "Here?" I repeated, uncertain that I had heard him correctly.

"Well I mean it's really late and instead of walking all the way back to your hotel in the middle of town…"

Shit. The bike. Obviously it wasn't like anybody knew that I was staying with the twins, let alone that I had essentially stolen one oftheir motorcycles to come here. Ethan and Aiden were going to wake up in the morning, realize I, along with their precious bike, was gone and they probably wouldn't be the happiest they've ever been in their lives but it was better than having to explain to Isaac why I had their bike in the first place. I had parked it kind off on the side of the building so it's not like it was directly in plain sight and it wasn't like it was a long ride here it just wasn't a quick one. I decided I'd just deal with it in the morning.

"My hotel- Oh yeah. Sure, no yeah that'd be fine; I mean if it's not a problem. I don't really think I'm exactly Derek's first choice for a house guest…"

Isaac smirked. "Eh, he won't care. And trust me when I say there are a lot of people ahead of you for first place on that list."

I gave a small smile back. "Oh wow I feel so much better."

Isaac, Scott, and Stiles were all standing in the middle of the loft, the two werewolves off to the side and Stiles sitting in a chair that he had turned around backwards to face the couch.

"How long are you going to sit there and stare at her?" Scott asked his friend.

Not moving his gaze from her, Stiles said in a determined expressionless voice, "Until she wakes up and confesses that she's really a secret spy sent to destroy us all."

Isaac lightly raised one brow at the boy. "I don't know, Stiles." Scott said quietly. "Her story seems like it adds up. And besides, she seems like she's on our side. She did have to tell us about her dreams and everything and after what Isaac's told us don't you think it sounds a little unlikely that she could be making all of this all up?"

Stiles shook his head. "Well excuse me if after all weird supernatural stuff that we've been thrown into the middle of I'm just the slightest bit suspicious."

Isaac's gaze was still on the girl with her hair free-falling over her shoulders and down her back. Both of her arms were folded underneath her head and she was bent into a 'c' shape with her legs tucked up towards her chest. She looked so small and like such an innocent sleeper; it was weird to think that looking like that she could be having the dreams that she did.

"Should we wake her up for school?" Scott asked. Before anyone had a chance to respond, the girl on the couch suddenly shot straight up, the blanket that was wrapped around her falling off to the side and her body staying up straight as a board.

The sudden and unexpected movement made everyone else jolt in surprise, but it was Stiles who had been leaning particularly close to her, causing him to throw himself backwards and shove his arms out straight in front of him, stumbling backwards. The chair he had been sitting in tumbled over and made a loud crashing sound but Kalel's eyes remained closed as she sat there with her brows slightly furrowed and the three boys stood there completely frozen all slightly leaning away from her.

"Okay." Stiles mumbled under his breath, his heart pounding. "That can just happen."

"What's she doing?" Isaac asked.

"I don't know…" Scott said, glancing down to see that as a reaction to the surprise his claws had extracted themselves out from his nail beds.

"What did you do?" Isaac asked Stiles.

"Me? I didn't do anything!"

They all looked back at Kalel who was starting to slowly tilt her head to one side.

"I didn't do anything…" she said quietly, repeating Stile's words.

The three boys remained on their toes with wise eyes. "She's dreaming." Isaac stated.

"About what?" Stiles said being the master of asking questions nobody knew the answer to.

Kalel slowly stood up on her feet and began walking over to the staircase. Being the first to move, Isaac started quickly walking after her when Scott said, "Isaac, wait." The boy turned and looked at his friend.

"Aren't you not supposed to wake up people when they're sleep-walking?" Scott said. Isaac's eyes moved back to Kalel and then back to him. "Yeah well she's not exactly a normal dreamer, what makes you think she's a normal sleep-walker?"

"Uh, guys." Staring off at the other side of the room, Stiles weakly pointed a finger in the direction of the girl who was now on the stairs. She was up towards the top and had begun to climb over the side of the railing.

Isaac sprung forward and Scott wasn't far behind him. Stiles stood there stunned, watching the girl lean forward with her hands behind only loosely on the railing. In no time at all Scott was behind her, making a grab for her wrist, but she was already falling off the side. Luckily, Isaac was there at the bottom and caught the girl before hitting the hard concrete floor of the loft. And when he did, her eyes opened and she started frantically looking around. Her eyes only stopped when she saw met his eyes only inches from her own looking concerned, and then came the feeling of his hands on her.

Scott let out a huge sigh of relief and put his head down on top of his arms on the railing.

"Uh…" I had no idea what was going on or why Isaac was holding me on the other side of the room away from where I had been sleeping. I let my eyes wander over to Stiles who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"What just happened?" I asked, nervously.

"Um…" Isaac trailed off and it was obvious to me that everyone in the room could see my cheeks burning red just as much as I could feel them. "You were sleeping and then woke up and sleep-walked up the stairs and tried to jump off the railing?" he said as nonchalantly as possible like it wasn't a big deal at all.

I stared off into space a bit and blinked. "Oh." I said. "I see."

"Have you ever done that before?" Scott asked, now at the bottom of the stairs.

"N-No. Not that I know of." I said as Isaac let me stand on my own. I blinked again. Had I?

"Were you dreaming about something?" Isaac said, scanning my face for any indication of what my answer would be. I let my mouth fall open slightly and I looked back at him. The dream was coming back to me.

"I jumped." I finally said.