His Spark [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 4: Maybe

Hey again! Hope you like this chapter as well as the picture above. (I made it myself!) but anywho, that's the Tattoo our Stiles has on his shoulders.

Stiles:
It's been a week. A whole friggin week after the Hale House incident and I still have that bruise on my face. Most of the pack got along well with the Hale pack now, some like Scott and Kira, are even connected through the pack link with them now. That's how close everyone seemed to be getting, to my delight, despite the way they were treating me.

While I had been going to pack meetings, Talia would express how grateful she was for me because I saved Derek from drowning in the pool while he was paralyzed. Deaton had apologise for his rudeness plenty of times. Apparently he doesn't hate me, it's just that he concluded that being rude was the only way to ge me to take everything seriously. He was very right about that. He told me that singling me out was just to get me to defend myself in front of Cora. She had lost someone dear to her because of me- the Nogitsune, whatever- and she still held that against me. She's not the only one either. Boyd and Erica have been accidentally tripping and bumping into me this whole week, leaving all sorts of bruises on me. Derek won't even look at me!

I've come to realize that Peter and Laura are like that one weird cousin you love but don't necessarily like because their just so random. All they ever do is bully me into answering their meddling questions. For example,

"Do you have any tattoos?", which I successfully avoided telling them the truth by saying, "I'm scared of needles."

    That doesn't mean I don't have one.

It's a little weird that in a drunken haze during freshman year I got a tattoo that looks like Scott's and the Hales' pack symbol and some flowers slapped together. I never told anyone, not even dad, but I have been sketching that tattoo since the six grade. I just thought it was cool and it reminded me of my mother.

Thinking about her makes me want to cry even more. Today just isn't my day, it never will be. Earlier today during a pack meeting we were trying to figure out the identity of a rogue wolf that popped up three weeks ago out of nowhere. It wasn't anything serious, the Hale's just want to have a chat with them to see if their planning on bringing more rogues in with them. Too many rogues on marked territory never ends well.

Anyways, while I was working on it I glanced up and found myself staring at a picture of my dead mother that was framed and propped up on a shelf directly in front of my designated seat at the huge dining table. It wasn't there before and it stunned me into silence mid sentence. I cleared my throat and tried to continue but the smirk on Cora's face and the clenching of my heart made it impossible. So I stood up and left. Never said anything to address it and just left. I don't think I could have said anything, even if I tried, my throat felt like I had a shard of glass wedged into it and my eyes felt like they were on fire.

I know that they don't know about my mother's death, but they aren't stupid. They could have figured that my mother was a hard topic for me. They could have guessed it, but they didn't care. They just wanted me gone so badly that they would bluntly try to brutally wound me emotionally.

The worst part of this all is that it's Mother's Day. Also known as my mother's death anniversary. Ironic isn't it? She took her last breath on Mother's Day six years ago today. And I still miss her everyday.

My friends all came running after me when I started walking away but I just wanted to be alone. I yelled at them until they understood that if I went back in there, I wouldn't be able to hold in the tears anymore. And I hate crying in front of people.