thirty; an unexpected visit

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I look down at the book in my hands, as the tears silently fall from my eyes. I'm not quite sure if they are sad or relived tears, but they were something. Somehow and for some unknown reason, I returned to one of the places I swore I never would. I sat on the burnt step of the Hale house, the dark sky above me. Even the stars didn't want to be out tonight, as the sky was one dark blank scene. I sigh and slowly begin opening the journal below me. I carefully undo the tie, as if the leather and paper could fall apart instantly in my hands. I flip open the cover and trace my fingers over the name beautifully written there; Celeste Sagesse Abram.

The meaning of her middle name being the same as mine, was a mystery for another day. I hold my breathe, not sure if I can handle what's on the next page. I flip it over and take in her beautiful cursive handwriting that made mine look like a toddler got hold of a pen. I roll my eyes at my own sad excuse of joking, just for the sake of making myself feel better about the shitty situation my life has turned into. I let out one last huff of air before reading the first entry in the journal.

"March nineteenth, sixteen fifty-two;

Writing the indiscretions my own mind plays upon me, seems to be my the only relief I will be able to find. Each passing day my mind seems to run wilder than I could have ever imagined. Grandmother told me what I am, and not to take for granted the gift placed upon my soul. But with this gift, comes nightmares. Ones I cannot seem to run from. They play before me like an act, like one watching a play. I thought they were just that, just nightmares, but they are much more. She told me watch for myself, for this gift placed upon me could cost me my own sanity--"

I slam the journal closed with a hefty sigh. Only seven sentences in and I'm already overwhelmed. Cost me my sanity?

I rip the phone from my pocket and call the number I've been trying to avoid for days. I know it wasn't a good idea, and I know I'll probably regret it, but it just seems like the only right thing to do in this moment. I blink away the tears in my eyes as the sudden pressure of everything happening around me sets on my shoulders.

Please answer.

"Abigail?" I let out a chocked breath at the sound of his deep voice. "What's wrong?"

"Please come meet me." I was angry that my voice sounded weak, but I didn't have the energy to make it sound any different. I was just too tired; mentally and physically.

I let out a sigh of relief when his short response comes through the speaker, "I'm on my way."
                                            

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"I uh-I didn't expect you to get here so quickly," I look up and my eyes instantly meet Derek's green ones. "I just-" My voice catches and breaks in my throat as the tears fill my eyes again. "I'm sorry."

Derek moves closer and sits on the step next to me. I let out a shaky breath as his arm hesitantly lands on my shoulder. "I talked to Deaton. I was trying to figure out anything I could about what was happening with me. He found something."

Derek looks over, a look of surprise on his face, "What did he find?" I hesitate, just for a second, realizing I haven't said a word to either Scott or Stiles, but for some reason the idea of telling Derek didn't scare me, as it did with them. Even though I was closer to both Scott and Stiles than I have ever been with anyone else, something about telling them I wasn't me anymore, terrified me.

"It's called Donneur de Sagesse. Deaton gave me some long explanation about wisdom, knowledge, and some true power bullshit. I don't know. I still don't understand it."

Derek tightens his grip around my shoulder and I can't help but lean my head against him, "It's okay to not know, Abigail. You don't always have to know.

I force out a laugh and shake my head heavily, "I can't help it. The not knowing...kills me," I sigh and look over to the journal still residing on the step next to me. I reach out and let my hands wrap around the leather covering before pulling it closer onto my lap. "This," I flip open the cover again to the first page with the woman's beautiful name printed on it. I hold it out to Derek to let him see it. "This is a journal. From one of the last known women who were like me. She apparently wrote about her life or her 'gift', as she calls it."

He slowly takes the journal from my grasp and looks it over himself. "Have you read any of it yet?" I sigh deeply and tiredly before nodding my head. "Yeah. I got about a paragraph into the first entry and then I couldn't handle it. She talks about the nightmares and about losing her mind and sanity-" I cut myself when I hear the terror in my own voice. "I've dealt with a lot of problems in my life. Through everything, I've never had to fear losing myself, but with this...I'm not so sure."

"You're not going to lose anyone, especially not yourself," I open my mouth to argue, but his look quiets me. "I'm telling you, Abigail, you're not going to lose anyone."

I couldn't help but hope he was right.

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