Walls, Masks and Plaid Shirts (Book One of the 'Plaid Shirts' series)

In the quiet of the night - (Stiles POV)

A/N - This is going to be quite a sad chapter, so yeah sorry, also may be quite triggering. Again Sorry! *Hides behind bush*.

Life had become interesting for me over the past years to say the least. Werewolves, kanimas, banshees and all that other supernatural crap had taken over. Weekly battles with the monsters that now manifested them selves outside of my head not just on the inside. Monsters that really did go bump in the night, bumps through the woods and in abandoned buildings, bumps in open expanses of fields and in the narrow corridors of the school building. And of course the bumps that that took over the quiet in my head. Some of these inner bumps were constant, a gentle thud, a reminder in the dark that I would never be left truly alone, not from the thoughts and screams inside.

It was night like tonight where my brain would force my to reflect on the things that have happened through out the day, it would make me focus on every little detail, every letter of every harsh word, every single little point of contact from a push or a shove. It was always when the night was its quietest that these thought would fill the silence. Noise. Constant noise. I can't remember a moment in my life when there was not constant noise somewhere. Whether it was the bustling of the people who where bullying or harsh words from my unknowing friends, the loud voices thumping against my skull, the drunken slurs of my father, it was always unending. I just wanted silence. Was that too much to ask. I had given the world and everyone in it all the attention and love and kindness I had, I had given all the goodness I had to the world and it was tossed in my face and sent me sprawls down into this pit of depression.

It was nights like tonight (these many, many night) at which I come home from school in a state of exhaustion so prolonged I don't even feel it anymore, my whole body is just numb, I feel nothing. I come home and find an empty house, the darkness spilling from the windows penetrating the light the opposite of what should occur. Though I wonder as I am swallowed by the houses darkness whether this is just the way for me, the darkness always devouring the light. Like the Nogitsune's darkness covering what little brightness that was surrounding my soul. Like the darkness of the Argent's basement ripping away my dignity all those years ago. Like the darkness of the Oni trying to snuff out Allison's shinning heart. Like the darkness of the liquor that my dad turned to to cope with a child like me. The darkness. The unending darkness that follows me where ever I go. That tries to devour the ones I love as well, it will not succeed.

I find myself in my room sitting at my desk. I pull out a folder on demons.
It will not succeed.
I open a new internet browser and dive head first into research.
It will not succeed.
There are hundreds of different types and breeds of demons.
It will not succeed.
Normal metals will not harm such nefarious creatures.
It will not succeed.
Metals such as those used by holy blessed creatures such as Angels must be used.
It will not succeed.
67 pages later and 6 hours later I filed the folder away and slammed the lid of my laptop shut.
It will not succeed.

My hands were shaking, sweat had pooled in the small of my back, my breath was coming in pants and my heart was racing. Once I was standing in the centre of my bed facing the window I managed to catch my escaping breaths and let out a long slow breath. I turned my hands into fists and and when I released them they had stopped shaking. The largest of the bumps and shouts in my head abruptly stopped. Apart form the quite constant bumps a calm quite spread over me. I gritted my teeth and then heard my own croaky voice in my ears, "It will not succeed". It will not succeed to devour the ones I love, but it might devour me. I walked to the bathroom.
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Pealing off my clothes felt like unveiling a piece of art. A horrific piece of art but a piece of art all the same. Unlike the sketches in my sketchbook these sketches were rough and hand unorganised, no final goal, just something to take away the numbness and awaken my bones. They were not something I was proud of, they where hideous and where scrawled across my body. Red, pink and white reminders of my depressive state, my broken mind, my weakness. Reminders of my pain and heartache. No one knew, no one would ever know. They where my secret, my way of inflicting my own controlled pay. A way could control. No werewolf or other supernatural creature could make these marks upon me. I had no powers, no supernatural abilities but I had power over my pain.

At some point my hand had turned on the shower and the steam was drifting up the mirror, clouding over my scars. I did not enter the shower I allowed the warm steam to embrace me, welcome me and clear my airways. I went into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out my special box. I then found myself naked, sitting on the floor, limbs spread out before me. I scanned them, picking out my canvas for my next gruesome painting. My left wrist and upper arm where chosen, I was too exhausted to move my body any farther that would be required for my other body parts. I brought the blade down on my upper arm first and dragged. Crimson bloomed in its path. Small bead-like flowers the fell like tears down my arm and splashed on the floor.

One. Pathetic. Two. Useless. Three. Unwanted. Four. Unloved. Five. Broken. Six. Forgotten. Seven. Eight. Nine. I was the reason my mother died. Ten. I needed to move down to my wrist the blood was making my pale canvas soaked in red. Eleven. I was the reason Scott was turned. Twelve. I am a freak. Thirteen. Fourteen. Faggot, disgusting, not normal. Fourteen. I have no control over my oven brain. Fifteen.

I wipe the blade off with tissue and place it back into the box carefully. The tissue flushes down the toilet in a blob of pink and white goop, swirling down into the depth of the clear water. I stand up. The room is in a pleasant haze, I am slightly dizzy but I am not too worried, I have been dizzier. I stumble into the shower and the hot water enveloped me. I teeter on my feet for a moment as the hot water makes contact with the cuts for the fist time. A hiss passing my chapped lips. It stung, but I was feeling, I could feel more than I had felt in a while the numbness had left my bones for a moment and I felt as light as a feather. I watched fascinated as the blood poured off my legs in streams of pink water and swirled. And swirled. And swirled down the drain.
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After bandaging my wounds and and covering the area around them in a fruity cream that would hopeful disguise the smell. There was more blood this time, even if the wolves didn't hang out with me I did not want them to notice. I pulled my self into sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt and flung myself into my bed. I huffed and turned myself over, reaching my hand into my bed side table. I had to reach in further than normal to reach the bottles and it took four goes to get all the bottles spread on the bed in front of me. I selected the two I take at night, one to fight the depression and anxiety, the second to stop the throbbing pain from the beatings at school and also take out the ones for sleep. I needed it and all I could do was hope for good dreams.

I pushed the pills under my tongue and filled my mouth with water. While I swallowed the water and flicked the pills back with my tongue. I pushed my head back into my pillow and closed my eyes. I let the pills do their work. It was almost quite. As quiet as my mind was ever going to get and I drifted off into a terror filled sleep as the numbness started to return to my body and my bones.

A/N -
Hello readers! Slightly shorter piece today but I wrote this in the car so yeah, I hope I didn't muck anything up. I am going to say that this chapter is the closing of one part of the story and the next is away to begin (this will hopefully make sense in the next chapter), sorry for those waiting for the pack to help Stiles but I swear it is coming, just give me time.

Another note - I DO NOT own these characters they come from MTV's Teen Wolf and were thought of by Jeff Davis.

Uploading for the next week:
Monday - Chapter of 'Walls, Masks and plaid shirts'
Tuesday - first chapter of 'How to Save: The boy with the sea green eyes' (a Percy Jackson and The Avengers crossover)
Thursday - Chapter of 'Walls, Masks and plaid shirts'
Saturday - chapter of 'Walls, Masks and plaid shirts'

Happy Reading,
Shadow xx