Full Moon ☾ Derek Hale

Chapter Thirty-Six: Tattoo

Chapter Thirty-Six: Tattoo 

Chapter Song: Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys

☾☾☾

August 14, 2011 

The darkness fenced me in once again. I looked ahead, already knowing what would stand before me. And there it was. The door. The red, freestanding door. Its brass knob mocked to come and open it, to come release whatever demons awaited on the other side. I took a few steps forward, swallowing the lump of fear that lodged itself in my throat down. This was it, I'd face my fears this time.My hand reached forward, brushing against the cold brass of the knob—

BEEEEEEEP. BEEEP. BEEP.

My eyes shot open, the familiar quiet gasp for air escaping past my dry lips. Sunshine flooded the room, causing me to blink a few times to adjust my vision. My phone buzzed against the wooden nightstand, flashing "6:45 Alarm" in big, bold letters. I swatted at the phone, clicking off the incessant noise. I groaned, draping my arm over my head and squeezing my eyes shut. Frustrated was an understatement for me. That had been the closest I had gotten to opening the door  all summer.

All summer.

The dreams had stayed frequent, coming at least three to four times a week. It always stayed the same, nothing ever wavering other than the intense fear that consumed me. It was the same freestanding red door surrounded by nothing but darkness. I didn't know what or whose door it was, nor what it meant, but after four months, I was dying to find out. Which was a far cry from how I had felt the last few months. After admitting the truth to Scott and Stiles a few weeks back,  a partial weight lift off my shoulders. It made me start sleeping a bit more now that I wasn't keeping this secret in the darkest parts of me. We discussed our theories and what it meant, but always came up blank. We even scoured parts of Beacon Hills, looking for every red door we could find. There hadn't been many. And the ones we did find didn't look the same. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack—what was to say the door was even in Beacon Hills? 

I had been so terrified to open whatever was behind the door, suspecting my mind to something even worse than I imagined. But, the three of us deducted it was the only thing I could do to maneuver us to what was next. And so I tried. Each dream, I still hadn't been able to open the door. I was beginning to feel helpless. 

But it was the first day of Junior year, and I refused to feel helpless today. 

I reluctantly kicked the covers off and padded out from the comfort of my room and over into Scott's.

"So let's see it." I requested, knowing Scott and Stiles had wandered off to a tattoo parlor late last night in hopes for Scott to finally get the tattoo he'd been dragging on about all summer. Scott jutted his arm out, showing off uninked skin. I leaned myself against the doorway. 

"You didn't get it." I stated, the surprise in my voice hardly feigned. The frustration on Scott's face said otherwise. 

"I did." He groaned. "It healed!"

My jaw slacked. "No way."

"Yes way. I paid all that money for nothing." He sighed. "What?" Scott wondered, looking at the twitching of my lips as I tried to hide a smile. 

"Thank God I hated it." I admitted, imagining the simple design he had demonstrated for me on a piece of loose leaf at least 40 times this month alone. Scott rolled his eyes, chucking a throw pillow at me.

"Hey!" I cried. 

"I paid good money on that, Hayl!"

"Then I'll pick up another shift and give you the money if it means you won't get it." I stressed. I reached down, picking up the pillow that had landed my feet and forcefully tossed it right back at my brother.