DRIPPING DARKNESS

Ch-14: Same old Stiles Stilinski

Lydia's POV

Emotions are a form of a biochemical bank account.

Positivity pays in and negativity is a withdrawal. We can give to one another in an emotional ecosystem when society is healthy, cooperative, and kind. In a society of competition; people start to take more than they give, the health of the brain and body deteriorates, society becomes more violent and unstable.

It all links back to the biochemical bank account and the lead indicator of too many withdrawals and lack of deposits is stress.

In my case, there was negativity all around. The scandalous visions of Stiles, I have been having since the last few days were like a knife to the chest for me. It's been two days, that every time I went to bed that same image kept flashing through my mind like a horror movie. All I saw was Stiles, lying lifeless on the ground, staring at me with those puppy eyes, but devoid of any life in it.

I was afraid, I was depressed, and yes I have been behaving a little off with everyone else, for quite some time because of that vision. I wasnt sure what it meant, neither was I sure whether I should speak about it to either Scott or Stiles.

The world seemed upside down, sometimes I felt lost, but not a single day did I learn to give up at all because that's what life is. It may not always be sweet but at the same time, it may not always be bitter.

So, when there were times when I felt like giving up, I kept reminding myself what my fighting was worth, what life was worth, what I was worth.

Unfortunately, MIT decided to delay the starting of classes by a few days, due to the death of a member of their teaching community. I had already registered my name for it and got admitted after a strenuous process of online admission, but it was yet to open,

So why not prepare myself in advance?

That was me. I could never hold back from studying more than the syllabus, more than what was taught in class.

There was this strange, childish fever that always kept me indulged in a severe mania of completing all the syllabus before classes would even start. And then there was a phobia of not being able to answer something when being asked, and not being able to be the first one to answer anything in the class. I guess both the forces, equal yet opposite, kept me on track.

I was already staying in my hostel, though Mom was offering me a hotel room or a rented house. I wanted to learn, I needed to learn to rebuild, reconstruct and make a new version of myself.

But, no matter how much I worked hard and tried not to be overwhelmed by my past, those insane memories of Beacon Hills High school would never be forgotten.

The teenage smiles, dumping of school classes, flirting with hot lacrosse jocks, will always be remembered. I missed my house, I missed my Mom so much.

Things weren't as simple as they seemed. It has been a long time since I could talk or text him because he didn't get access to mobile phones in the FBI academy. I talked with Scott, Malia but none of them seemed to talk with Stiles either, which left me with a slightly rough feeling about that.

At a point where things got hard and I had to work more than I intended to, I would make up my mind to think that we were in a break, but some other I would curse me for thinking that.

If what Scott and Allison used to say about Stiles was true, that he would try so hard to ask me out but couldn't do so because he thought I was way too good for him, then all the things that were happening to me were basically a form of punishment, I assumed.

Scott just called me last night informing me about going back to Beacon Hills.

My first thought and first reply? HELL NO! Yeah, that's what I said to him.

He wasn't actually trying to convince me to go back, he was just asking if I wanted to, as if the decision to fight with them was none other than my honest opinion.

At last, we came to a point where I agreed to go back if I could attend at least the starting class of my college. As per my agreement with Scott, I would come back to Beacon Hills, if only I was at least allowed to attend my first day at MIT. I didn't want to miss MIT, it was my dream, I worked my whole life for it. He agreed, and so did I, because I actually had prepared myself for the syllabus of the whole semester, even before classes started.

Stiles was to pick me up the following day, which was today, and guess what... I was waiting for him in the basement of our hostel, and he was late, as usual,...

I guess in a way, he was still the same old Stiles Stillinski.

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