-9 years ago-
Saturday, December 25, 1999
In Beacon Hills, California

Chapter 1: Part A

"Scott! Scott, wake up!" Stiles exclaims excitedly into the walkie-talkie.

Stiles puts on a sour face and waits for a response. But no one answers.

"RAWR!" Stiles screams into the walkie -talkie.

"AHHHH!" Scott bellows and plunges to his cold, hard wooden bedroom floor.

"Are you up, Scott?" Stiles asks him playfully with a light chuckle.

"I am now!" Scott complains in a grouchy tone.

"It's time. It's finally time!"

"Time for me to chop off my ears and bury myself in a grave?" Scott says sarcastically.

"No, dummy, it's Christmas!" Stiles replies annoyingly.

"And?" Scott questions.

Stiles pauses. "What do you mean, "And? It's like, one of the best holidays to ever exist in history! You know, when the creepy man with a white beard comes to eat your cookies and slips you money."

"Don't you mean Santa?" Scott interprets.

"Yeah, him too," Stiles replies.

"It's super early in the morning and I want to go back to bed. Besides, aren't you too old for Santa?" Scott asks ignorantly.

"Are you kidding?! You're never too old for a magical overweight guy to bring you presents! Which can sometimes be possibly food!" Stiles informs happily.

"So what does this have to do with me?" Scott asks.

Stiles sighs exasperatedly. "Fine. If you must know... my dad's going to be gone for a few weeks for a case in Vietnam later on today and maybe I just wanted you to come and hang out." Stiles explains, but in his tone, he's discreetly hiding something.

Scott shows interest in what he's saying, but in a more sympathetic manner. "...He's not going to come back, is he?"

Stiles once again pauses. "....Maybe not."

Scott deeply sighs. "Listen, forget about the whole "still tired, too early" thing. I'll be over in a minute."

"Hurry up, slowpoke," Stiles responds playfully while holding tears back.

12 hours after Christmas

Stiles wakes up to see himself lying in his bed. He then goes downstairs to check on his mom, Claudia, like he always does every night.

"Hey, Mo-" Stiles pauses to see his mom not laying in her bed, where she always sleeps.

He goes to the living room to see if she's in the kitchen, making a late-night snack.

He notices the tv is on, and the news channel is going with a news reporter saying, "We arrived from the scene with Vietnam police officers from yesterday, with reported news that a man's body was found along the highway of Vietnam's busiest roads."

"It better not be you... please let it not be you..." Stiles thought, pleading the body they found isn't his dad.

The picture of the man appeared on the screen, followed by the terror showed on Stiles' face.

"The man was pronounced dead late tonight. Vietnam police officers identified the victim as a detective originally from California, Beacon Hills named Noah Stilinski. How he died is yet to be discovered. This is 19 news, we'll see you in a bit." The news reporter ends.

Stiles' eyes were puffy and red, followed by tears coming down his face. He rushes to tell his mom what he'd just seen on the tv, only to find her, lying on the downstairs bathroom floor, witnessing pills and the pill bottle scattered around her.

He checks her pulse... but it's too late. She overdosed, clearly due to her husband's death.

"No... no, no, no, Mom! Mom, wake up! Mom! Mom, please! No, no, no, no! Mom!" Stiles says tearfully, before crashing to his knees in defeat.

He continues to scream in agony and finally lays his head on her chest while sobbing.

That night... was the hardest night of his life.

Chapter 1: Part B

-8 years later-
Stiles' POV

I jolt up with heavy breathing, taking over my sight.

"What's wrong, babe?" A girl's voice says, clearly woken up by my panicking.

"...N-nothing. I'm- I'm fine. Just go.. just go back to sleep.. everything's fine." I interpret, obviously lying.

I take one last breath to calm myself when I see her roll over. I allow myself to let one tear leak down my cheek while trying not to let her hear me cry.

I wipe my face, letting go of the past.

I force myself to get up and head to the bathroom to take a shower and brush my teeth.

I spit into the sink one last time and open the bathroom door to see the naked girl covering herself with sheets from the bed.

"I.. had a great time last night. We should do it again sometime." She says playfully while kissing my chest.

"I don't think that'll be a good idea. I kind of have plans tomorrow, so.." I tell her, hiding the fact that I don't remember anything that happened last night.

"So? I'm pretty sure you can probably still cancel. You'll cancel for little old Vanessa, right?" She asks with an innocent tone.

"I'm sorry, but I have plans tomorrow... look, I'm sure you're a great girl to hang out with, but I really can't cancel tomorrow," I say while pushing my way past her.

"...Fine. Have it your way. Don't ever call me again." She says while rushing to put her clothes back on.

"Wasn't planning on it," I say after she storms out of the room and slams the door.

I sigh, dreading the day I'm about to walk into today.

I feel my phone vibrate in my pants' pocket and read the caller id name that makes me dread today even more.

"Yeah, hey," I say, not wanting to encounter this conversation.

"Really? "Yeah, hey" is what you start with when you answer the phone? You haven't been answering your phone today or last night!" My best friend, Mike, says with an angry tone.

"Look, I'm sorry, dude, but I have no idea what happened last night. I don't even remember you calling me. My head hurts so bad." I say, still trying to wake up and think with a really bad headache.

"Wow. Dude, you must've been hella hammered last night... we went to a party. There was music, there was dancing, drinks, and some pretty hot girls, and, well, after I had told you to help be my wingman for the night, I turned around to see you bailing on me with a girl, while I was stuck with helping myself. They had already walked away when I turned back around, so I had one drink and left." He explains, while also being annoyed with me.

"I tried to call you a little later after I left to see if you wanted a ride back to your place, but I guess you didn't need a ride after all. So, here we are." He adds.

"I'm sorry, man. I don't know why I don't remember anything up to this morning." I say apologetically.

"It's all good, Stiles. Those girls didn't look like they were interested in me anyway. But seriously though, are you still in bed? Or did you just forget that we're best friends and we need to study for our exam?" He asks in a skeptical tone.

"Shit. I'm on my way." I tell him, looking at my watch before hanging up.

12:21 am, in the cafeteria

"Can you believe Coach won't let me try out for the team? It's like, "Hey, I know I'm a weak bastard, but at least let me give it a shot," you know." Mike babbles on.

"Yeah, uh, I know," I say, lost in my thoughts.

"So, tell me... what kind of freaky stuff happened last night? Did you do it?" Mike playfully asks while eating the french fries off his tray.

"Dude, I already told you. I don't remember anything up until this morning. I think I had too many drinks." I say, massaging my face.

"Okay, okay, just asking... was she hot?" He smirks.

"Fine, I'll tell you, but just because you won't leave me alone about it. I only remember kissing a girl with straight brunette hair and a varsity jersey on. Then, that's it, until today. She was still at my place when I woke up." I regretfully explain.

Mike stops eating his french fries and slowly looks up at me as if I've said something wrong.

He widens his mouth. "...Shit."

I also pause and give him a confused look. "What? Why did you say "shit" like that?" I ask, clearly not understanding what the problem is.

"No, no, no, this can't be happening." He says panicked.

"Are you as air-headed more than I already think?" He asks annoyingly.

"Okay, what are you talking about?" I ask impatiently.

"You slept with his girl. Trevor's... you slept with the popular, cool, buff asshole, and captain of the lacrosse team's girl." He explains as if I'm brain dead.

I stop to realize that I knew I thought I've seen her before. "Shit" is right, Mike.

"God, we're so dead," I say, pushing my fingers through my hair.

"Uh... "we" is not even close in the dictionary right now. That seems like a you problem." He says apathetically.

"Well, how was I supposed to know? Not every girl who wants to sleep with someone else doesn't usually say, "Oh, hey, I have a boyfriend, who actually happens to be the biggest asshole and Captain of the lacrosse team of Falcon High, but I'm just gonna sleep with you anyway, is that cool?" I say sarcastically in a girl's voice. "I was also pretty drunk so I'm pretty sure knowing who I was going to sleep with wasn't on my agenda."

"I would've kno-"

"No the hell you wouldn't have. I know that for a fact." I said interrupting him, making him stick his tongue out at me.

"...What am I supposed to do? He's probably not going to believe that I didn't know that was his girlfriend."

Mike just shrugs.

The bell rings, and he rushes his food down his stomach while getting up from the table.

"I honestly don't know. But hey, call me if you ever manage to escape Satan himself." He says after throwing his garbage away and runs to class.

I take a sigh exasperatedly and let my face fall to the cold lunch table.

After 3 more hours of after school

"See you tomorrow, Stilinski." The principal says after closing the double doors of the school.

"See you, Mr. Lamberton." I say as I trot down the stairs.

At night, it can be peaceful. Sometimes too peaceful to where you can hear ants carrying food into their anthills.

But peaceful nights can also be a terrifying thing. It's the silence before death. When the only thing you could hear for your last moments is your heavy breathing, trying to shake the realization of being alone.

That's how I felt that night. The aloneness. The first few moments of fear, weighing down on my chest. They were all I had. That, in my opinion, has to be the most worst moments in your life.

I then come to a corner where I'm almost to my house, in which I live alone.

"Where you off to, dingle?" A teen guy's voice asked angrily.

I stop midway within a few steps more to my house on the sidewalk.

I slowly turn around, knowing who I'm going to see.

Trevor and his jockeys were standing in the shadows of the tree blocking the moon.

"Trevor." I say, regretting this already.

"Ding dong... so is that what you do? You sleep with someone else's girlfriend and then just walk away like nobody's business? Wow, I thought you were pathetic before, but now you're just a lowlife little boy who doesn't know how to keep his dick in his pants. No wonder why your parents left you.. probably couldn't stand to see what a disappointment you were to them." He adds, while getting up close to my face.

Those words. I hated those words. Part of me knows they're lies... but the other part... was slowly ripping me to shreds.

I tried to turn around and keep walking.. but I just lost it.

I clenched my fists so hard in a way I've never did before. I pulled my hand back and sucker punched him in the face.

"Ah! You little punk! You're so dead! Get him, guys!" He yells, while rubbing his jaw.

Two of his jockeys started slowly walking towards me. One was pounding his fist to his hand, while the other.. pulled out a silver, sharp hunting knife out of his right pocket of his jeans.

I swiftly turned around and ran down the dark, quiet street.

Fast legs don't run in the family, so little by little, they were both catching up to me. Especially the one holding the knife.

I spotted an alleyway that I could run into, thinking I could lose them... but I was wrong.

I ran into the alleyway, only to find an enclosed space with no way out but where I just came from.

I stand there panicking, searching for a way out, but Trevor's jockeys eventually found and caught up to me.

"He's over there, I see him!" I hear one of the jockeys say, the shadow of him pointing at me.

The resounding footsteps of my ending was calling to me as they made their way down the alley.

"Got you now, no-good punk. It's over." The jockey with the hunting knife responded tauntingly.

The heavy breaths of defeat were echoing through my mind. This is it... this will be how Stiles Stilinski dies.

When suddenly, the other jockey was pulled away from the side.

Confusion starred on both the jock with the hunting knife and mine as we caught a glimpse of the other jock get pulled away.

The jock with the hunting knife started to panic while looking around him, up and above.

"Jacob... Jacob... this is no time to screw around... what the hell, man! Come on, bro, we have to get this over with!" He shouts annoyingly.

"Whatever. Guess I'll have to do this solo." He says maniacally.

I close my eyes, hoping that I don't feel anything.

But then, he disappeared too. I couldn't wrap my head around what was going on. How did they vanish out of thin air?!

Without taking any chances, I run back down the street to my house. When I ran back, I didn't see Trevor standing there. He must've ran away too.

I rushed inside and locked the door.

I couldn't wrap my head around what was going on. It was all a blur.

Something happened to them. And I don't think that something was good.