blue moon ◦ teen wolf{2}

{02: clueless}

"Now, Stella, explain to me what exactly happened the night of the formal?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, sitting back in his chair as he folded his arms back.

The blonde didn't know how to respond. Mainly because she couldn't remember a thing past the hallucinations of her father. The whole night was so confusing and blurry that she couldn't even begin the sentence. Stella's mouth was wide, like she was going to explain the minor details he didn't know.

Stella sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm-- I'm not sure. I can't remember. I can't remember the past three months of my life. Something happened, and I think I felt sick, but that's it." A tear ran down her face, and the girl couldn't understand why. She'd been tough, but this just broke her. "I don't remember what happened, I swear."

She was the type of person who needed to be put into Eichen House.

"Can I go home? The doctors have already looked at me, made sure I wasn't screwed up from some sort of trauma." The blonde's chest shook, but not quite as much as her fingers, which she purposefully placed beneath the table so the sheriff wouldn't see how fragile she was right now. Stiles would find out how she was broken from whatever took place and questioned her until she either killed him or herself.

Stiles's dad nodded, his face dropping to express the grief he felt for the girl. "Yeah, you can go. If you remember anything, Stella, please let me know."

The blonde sat up from her chair, pushing it as she exited the room. When her palms pushed open the wooden door, her guardian was waiting in the office's lobby. Dodging chairs, desk, and officers, Stella bolted towards the familiar face.

Harris invited her with a warm embrace. The hug was so relieving that Stella just burst into loud sobs, burying her head into his nice clean blazer. Every muscle in her body shook with fear and frustration. She feared what happened to her in the past months she's been gone. Wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her in as if to protect her, Stella's godfather dragged her across the parking lot to his car.

"You don't remember anything that happened?" Harris asked, putting the keys into the ignition. The engine roared to life. "Your dad said you'd remember what happened to you, but maybe since you were werewolf, things are a little different."

Stella's fingers shook, maybe with shock, maybe from the coldness. She didn't have anything to say to what her godfather said; she was defeated, emotionally drained. The blonde felt sick to her stomach when she thought of what she was and what she used to stand for. Her morals had been thrown in the dirt, grounded into the concrete, stretched out, acting as though that was humanly acceptable. Peter's goal was to twist her, and he succeeded.

The blonde decided from then on that she was going to be her own person, not easily persuaded by other influences.

Silence filled the car as Harris drove in the room to the place they called home. "Is Scott McCall still alive?" Stella asked. There were many questions people could ask about Stella, but this was the only one she wanted to know really know the answer to.

"He's alive and well-- I believe."

Stella wanted to smile. She really did, but her mouth wouldn't twist upward. Even through her mistakes, Scott still prospered and maybe, with an improved personality and soul, Stella could help him get through some difficult situation.

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posting everything I've written so forth for you all to enjoy while I'm on hiatus for three more years lol.

comment to give me motivation :-)