Joan » S.Stilinski [1]

17 ; You're the Leia to My Han

          Sometimes things change. The world may continue to circulate around the sun, while the moon spins around Earth, but those are the only constants in life. There will always be a day and night, but things constantly change overtime. Your actions determine the life you lead and what will happen next.

          It's a terrifying thought to wonder if what you're doing or about to do could lead to something absolutely terrible. That fear can ruin or make your life. You can let that fear rule you or you can take that fear and become stronger. Joan wanted to become stronger. She didn't want to feel helpless like she did today at the high school. She wanted to feel power, to feel important.

          Her hands scrubbed her body in hopes of removing any form of blood that seeped into her skin. The hot water splashed against her skin as she poured yet another handful of body wash onto her hand before rubbing it along her skin. Her pale skin was now tinted pink. She couldn't see any blood visibly on her skin, but she could feel it. Joan could feel the sticky, dried substance still on her body, even after she had taken three showers.

          Joan sighed in defeat and frustration, letting herself stand under the running water. She stood still and tried to imagine her fear and anxiety flow down the drain with the rest of the water until it became cold. She quickly shut off the faucet before stepping out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She grabbed another to dry her hair. 

          Her eyes lifted to stare at herself in the mirror, the fog covering it due to the hot water's steam. She slowly whipped away the condensation, now able to see herself perfectly. Dark circles were visible under her hazel eyes thanks to her lack of sleep. Her once bright eyes looked tired and almost bleak as she stared into them. She hesitantly reached her hand up to her throat, seeing the slight indentation of where Violet's thermo-wire had cut her skin. 

          Melissa had explained to Joan that she might have a faint scar, but it wouldn't be incredibly noticeable unless you were up close. The bruising had faded only leaving it a light pink color that circled around her neck. It irked Joan as she continued to stare at the thin line. She's likely to never forget her near death experience in the locker room, but apart of her was thankful she wouldn't.

          In that moment against Violet, Joan felt powerful when she had fought against the teenage assassin. That feeling of saving Brett and doing something for the greater good was a feeling Joan wanted to feel again and again. It was as if she was addicted to it just on one go.

          "Joan? Are you alright, honey?" Joan's mother asked from behind the locked door, knocking upon the wood. Concern laced Bethany Arcs' voice as she waited for a reply from her daughter.

          Joan inwardly sighed, openning the door to look at her mother, "I'm fine, mom..." There were moments when Joan wished she could tell her parents the truth, and this was one of those moments. All her parents knew was that their daughter had indescribable bad luck, that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn't know that her friends were on a hit list and worth millions of dollars which led them to be tracked by assassins twenty-four seven. Joan didn't want them to know that no matter how worried they got. A part of her wanted to protect them, but another part of her was terrified of telling them the truth. The Arcs believed in facts and reality, not the impossible and supernatural. "I– I'll be fine."

          Bethany Arcs looked at her daughter, seeing the fear and distress in her eyes. It was hard for not only herself, but her husband as well, to see their daughter come home late with bumps, bruises, and shaky hands. It was even more difficult for her to have been taken to the hospital unconscious and to add upon that was the fact that she was nearly shot several hours prior. Bethany didn't want to push her daughter into telling her the truth if she did not want to, but she feared that if she didn't she'd loose her daughter.