On the Other Side • Sciles

Distraction

What do you do when all you wanna do is fucking kill yourself?

...

The answer?

...

You don't do anything. You sit there in the dark, curled up in your covers, wishing the pain would go away. You push your friends and your family away so that when you actually decide to do something about the pain, you won't feel so guilty about it. You recite all your unspoken prayers inside your head until you decide that there is no hope. You begin to think that a bullet in the head would hurt a little less than all of the loneliness you feel.

The anxiety hurts. The depression hurts. The medicine isn't working. No one calls to check on you and ask why you're not at school, but you can't blame them. You fucking suck. Why should they care? There's nothing special about you. You're not skinny, attractive, or smart. You're just you. A fuck up. A giant, flaming fuck-

...

Stiles started gagging and coughing furiously. He couldn't breathe. The four walls of his bedroom were closing in fast and he was hyperventilating. There's no air, he's drowning. It hurts...shit it hurts so bad. His heart is begging to be ripped from his chest, his blood is boiling him alive. He's dying...no he isn't dying...but it feels like it. He doesn't even know where he's at anymore.

He barely made it to the bathroom before he wretched the entirety of his stomach into the sink. God, look at him.

"I'm pathetic. Why shouldn't I just roll over and die? No ones here to stop me..."

He opened the bathroom cabinet and stared at all the medication inside. Surely just a few would do the trick...he reached inside and went for a random bottle.

His phone started to ring and he jerked away from the cabinet slamming it shut. He slid the phone out of his pocket, a little breathless, and answered.

"Stiles! Hey man. I wanna go out, but there's nothing to do." Stiles let a small smile grace his face as he heard his favorite voice, but then he heard another voice. It was coming from the police scanner he "borrowed" from his dad. His dad, the sheriff of Beacon Hills, had left a little bit ago without saying where he was going. He certainly didn't say hikers found half of a dead body and that he was looking for the other half.

"As it turns out, I've got something for us to do. Be there in a few." Perfect. This was just the distraction that he needed.