CHAOS THEORY: a mathematical branch which states that even a small tweak can make the system behave completely differently. very small adjustments in the starting position of a chaotic system make a big difference after a while.
OR, one teenage girl...
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THREE.
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ILLA ROCKS back and forth on her bed because she isn't sure what the hell she's going to do.
It's the night. The night she has been dreading, the night where everything will take a turn for the worst and she'll have no choice but to sit in her room and listen to it. She has convinced herself for the longest time that she'll be okay with it. But that was before Theo Raeken knew her name and before she realized that she can't let Stiles Stilinski die.
"No," she mutters, her tears gathering in her eyes more rapidly. Her breathing shallows, coming out of her mouth in short, rapid bursts that make her feel like her chest is caving in. She forces herself to speak through it anyway. "No, Illa. You can't mess with fate. You can't. It's set in stone. Stiles is going to die and so are Valack and Cross and there is nothing you can do about it."
Illa repeats this over and over to herself like a mantra until it's ingrained in her brain and burned behind her eyelids. Fate is fate and she cannot change it. Horrible consequences will occur if she tampers with the events, and she can't let that happen. Things have to run their course.
"Illa, you have a visitor," Schrader notifies her from the doorway. Illa hadn't even heard the door open, which is surprising considering the grating sound is usually so loud.
The girl's stomach swarms with confusion and nerves. Who would be visiting her? Is it another one of Valack's special surprises? Theo? A cold tremor of fear snakes down her spine. It's rare that she's surprised by anything, and the past day has brought one too many unexpected turns for her comfort.
"Come on." Schrader grabs her arm and yanks her out of bed. Illa rips herself out of his grip as soon as her feet are on the floor. Her eyes are already closed as to prevent any images from intruding her mind as she follows him, reminding her about what will happen tonight.
That's probably why she has no idea what happens when she hears a whack and a grunt, and no longer senses Schrader's presence beside her.
"Illa."
She knows that voice. She hasn't heard it in a long, long time except in visions, and she hadn't expected to meet its source ever again.
"Scott," she greets shakily. "Are you my visitor?"
"Technically, it was our friend Parrish, but I'm the real visitor," he replies. His soothing voice reminds her of the half-finished sun on her wall. Maybe a part of her had seen this coming when she'd started drawing it. "Well, we are."
Illa's eyebrows scrunch together. Stiles? "We?"
She opens her eyes a bit to see a boy only a little bit taller than her standing in front of her and to the left. Without looking at his face, she can see he's muscular despite being short for a male. His brunette hair is gelled at the top so it seems almost spiky. She isn't sure how old he is without looking at his facial features, and she doesn't plan on it until it's necessary.
