Skinny Love

1: Let's Go Find A Body

  "Maybe you should try plan D for dumbass."

-Crowley, King of Hell

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     In front of me, was a blank paper and my favorite blue pen. My eyes glared at the college-ruled sheet that seemed to taunt me as the words escaped me. There was so much to say. Too many feelings to express. So many memories that I wanted to share. And yet, there I was, lost for words. I scoffed at myself. Yes, lost for words indeed. How would I start? Hello, this is from the daughter that ran away?

     I needed a break.

     Sighing, I pushed myself away from the worn-down desk that I had been at for hours, and  walked over to Scott's room. Scott knew I always struggled during this time of year. The anniversary of when my birth family chose the Academy over me. He understood and that meant alot to me. He also knew that I wanted closure too. How I would though, neither of us knew.

     As I approached his door, I could hear the music playing. I knocked on his door and went in. Scott looked at me as I entered with a toothbrush dangling from his mouth. "Really? Not going to wait for me to say, 'Come in?'. Where's the privacy, Diabla?"

    I face planted into his bed, arms spread out. A muffed, "It never existed, just like the fuck I had to give."

   I could practically feel the deadpan he gave me. I heard his footsteps walking away to the bathroom. I listened as the sounds of the sink running and the swishing of Scott brushing his teeth. His window was cracked open slightly. This allowed a breeze to come in and annoy the shit out of me by blowing against my shin where it showed. It was odd how the wind was so cold when it was still warm outside. It was like it was an omen. Whatever, man. I'm too tired for this.

   "Hey Scott?" I said, face deep in his pillow. He hummed in a questioning tune in response. "Can you please close the window?"

     This time, Scott mumbled around the toothbrush in his mouth, "Why can't you?"

     "I'm comfy." I pouted, not that he could see.

     "Hate you." He sighed, probably shaking his curly locks at my antics.

     "No, you don't." I heard him walk around my lying figure and to the window. There was a soft creaking noise that sounded like it came from outside. I raised my head from the nest that I had burrowed into, to peer up at Scott. Strange, he hadn't even touched the window.

     His hands had started to reach it when the sound happened again, this time it caught his attention. "Did you hear that?"

    I nodded my head, "Was it Momma M?"

    Melissa McCall, also called Momma M by me, was Scott's mom. A mother that works long hours at the hospital as a nurse, raised the two of us. I loved her to bits. However, I'm ninety percent pretty sure that she was conked out in her room after coming home from another trying shift. I silently slipped into the hallway and peeked into another bedroom.

    Yep, I was right. Momma M, in all her late thirty old glory, was sleeping over the covers of the bed, fully clothed as if she'd just didn't even cared about changing after having walked in. I back up slowly into a chest behind me. I quickly pivoted my head to see my pseudo-brother also checking on our mom. I smack his arm quietly for scaring me and just got an apologetic look from the asthmatic boy. I eased the door shut and gestured for Scott to grab my bat from the closet and to meet me by the porch door. I tiptoed past him to grab my favorite cardigan and beanie.

    When I got downstairs, I was graced to see my beautiful baby. There she was, a single-piece hybrid baseball bat that was a beautiful dark grey with a sharpie flower pattern drawn on it in silver. I call her Puddin'. Scott and Stiles used to mock me for loving my Puddin' till they had seen me use her for not-so sport like things... like self-defense. Papa Stilinski got it for me for my fourteenth birthday. It made me feel a little closer to Táta, despite the ache in my chest.

    Taking her from Scott, I slide the glass door open and Scott steps in front of me like he'd protect me. Puh-lease. If anything, I'm the one who would be able to protect us both. Scott started for the yard. Breath held tight, he moved cautiously off the porch steps with me on his heels, grip tight on the raised bat.

    There were more sounds of movement that had us stopping in our tracks. I flexed my fingers nervously as Scott sweeped the beam of his flashlight side to side.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a dark mass that appeared to be trying to climb up our trellis. A small smirk started inching its way up my face as I knew what it was. Well, rather who it was. I lowered my bat and Scotty Mc ScaredyCat chose that moment to take the bat from me. I took a step back and leaned on the outer panelling of our house. This will be funny to watch.

   Before Scott, the obvious soul that he is, even knew what was happening, the dark silhouette figure broke free and came hurtling toward us. Scott hollers in terror as an upside down face appears in front of him, also scared as hell. He almost swings the bat before realizing who it is. Our mystery guest was waving his hands in front of him in spazztic motions also hollering. Meanwhile, my ass is cracking up at the two of them. Scott gives me a pouty glare as our mystery guest squints his eyes at me, a firm frown on his face.

   "Stiles, what the hell are you doing?" Scott whisper-shouts at our best friend.

    "Well, the two of you weren't answering your phones." The sixteen year-old with boundless energy he was, continued talking upside down as if this were a perfectly normal way to have a conversation. Which, now that I think about it, it is pretty much normal for him. I watched as he looked at my bat and decided to comment on that. "And why are you holding Ellie's bat?"

   " I thought you were a predator. The bat was El's idea." Scott tried to defend himself.

   "Course it was." Mumbled Stiles. "Wait-. A pre-. You thought-. I-. Wha-.Look, I know it's late, but you gotta' hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even State Police."

   My eyebrow arched, my curiosity was piqued. Scott, however, looked less than happy and more fed up as I asked, "For what."

   Stiles didn't even care about the exasperation in my brother's face as he turned to me and continued, "Two joggers found a body in the woods."

   "A dead body?" Dear lord, nothing gets past him, does it?

   "No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body." Sarcasm dripping from Stiles' voice was practically invisible. I went over to him to help get him unhooked from where his feet were caught. I got a grateful glance from him in return. Bad idea though. He fell down into the bushes below him. Within milliseconds, his buzz cut popped back up like nothing happened.

   "What- You mean like murdered?" Scott inquiries in a mix of worry and excitement. I am too, after all nothing ever happens here. It's Beacon Hills.

   Sti props his hands on his hips as his eyes widened and shined that all to familiar gleam. "Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties."

    Furrowing my brows, I raised my hand. Something wasn't adding up. "Hold on. If they found a body, what are they looking for now?"

     The informant clapped his hands together, a small mischievous look etched into his face. "That's the best part. They only found half."

    Scott and I looked at each other eyebrows raised. A smirk tugged at my cheek and Scotty boy groaned knowing what was going to happen next. Scott slouched while I turned to Sti and grinned. "We're going."