' she found herself on the cliff's edge and didn't know whether to jump or run. '
 

   SLEEP DID not meet Faye in the depths of the night. She was scared. Falling asleep meant dreaming and dreaming meant more nightmares. Even though her body whispered sleep, her mind yelled to keep her awake. The hours of the night drifted through the hands of the clock, and soon the blonde found herself staring up at her roof as dawn kissed the morning sky. The small device beside her mattress began to buzz, and before it could make it to the third buzz, Faye had already swiped on the screen and pulled herself up from bed.

   Her feet shuffled down the carpeted hallway, directing her body towards the bathroom. The cold air of the closed off room blew towards her as she swung open the door and began to scrap her pajamas off of her worn out body. Once the clothes were discarded, she jumped into the shower and accidentally turned the handle to the highest temperature. The scalding heat did not come, and instead Faye felt something else. She felt cold.

     The blistering water turned frigid the moment it soaked into her skin. She shivered under the shower head's icy tears, but it did not faze her. Faye could feel the burning sensation under her skin becoming numb from the cold and a silent breath of relief left her separated lips. The water threaded itself between the strands of blonde hair on her head and dripped down her neck, sliding on every bump of her spine. After standing under the stream of water for more than ten minutes, the blonde forced herself out of the shower and wrapped a faded green towel around her quivering body. Even though she had enjoyed the cold, the outside of her skin had taken the majority of the blow. 

    Faye did not sneak a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The events of yesterday were still fresh in her mind and the thought of seeing her eyes made something under her skin crawl. Stifling a yawn, she waddled back to her room and tore through the closest box to her. She had yet to unpack and the moving truck contained the bulk of her clothes. With her fingertips trembling, she picked up a wool sweater and a pair of jeans and she quickly threw them on, her wet hair clinging to the fabric and the back of her neck. Her body finally began to warm up as she trotted down the stairs, clutching her phone and her purse in each hand. 

 "Good morning," her mother said, taking a sip of her coffee. Faye gave a quick smile, hoping to distract her mother from the noticeable bags under her eyes. Knowing her mother, Faye knew that she would eventually question Faye's restlessness.  Shrugging off the thought, she grabbed her jacket off the coat hanger and slung it over her forearms. 

   "Is Dad at work already?" Faye pondered aloud, as she opened the fridge and took out a leftover piece of pizza from last night. Her mother couldn't cook is her life depended on it, and her dad had been coming home late from his new job which meant take out was the best option.

    Mrs. Rosenberg nodded and placed down the book she was reading just as Faye picked up her glasses and slid them on her face. "I can't give you a ride today, and since you don't want to learn to drive, you're going to have to walk."

   Faye playfully rolled her eyes. "I know you want me to learn how to drive, but I'm not ready yet," she replied. She glanced at the clock above the stove and sighed. "I gotta get going. Love you." The blonde kissed her mom's forehead and waltzed out the door, a hefty weight growing on her shoulders.

    Lying to her mom wasn't easy, but was it really considered lying? Faye had no idea what was going with her. The word delusional struck her like lightning, but she didn't find comfort in it's meaning. She no longer felt safe. Even walking down the streets, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was stalking her footsteps, watching her every move. Her every breath. Paranoia crept up her fingertips and slithered down her spine as she quickened her pace, hoping she would feel safer at the school. Her heart thumped rapidly against her chest as she turned her head behind her, making sure that no one was following her.

  No one looked her in the eye. She inhaled a crisp breath and let it sink in her mouth for a few seconds before releasing it in an unsteady exhale. The blonde could still feel the paranoia resting on her, but she managed to push it aside as she continued her morning walk to the school. The school approached quickly with every large step, and before Faye knew it, she was already inside the school.

  She could feel curious glances hit the back of her head as she walked towards her locker. Her neck muscles tensed as she tilted her chin to her chest, guiding her gaze to the tile floor. Faye's pale blonde hair made a protective shield as it coiled off her shoulders and landed on her chest. Students mumbled around her, but a high pitched voice stood out the most. Turning the corner, the blonde spotted a redhead talking to an empty chair outside the counselor's office.

  Faye studied the peculiar sight, and wondered if she should mention something to the girl. She looked as if she was having a real conversation, but no one pitched in to her comments. The girl's brown eyes flickered over to Faye, as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Can you see him too?" She asked in a soft whisper, her eyes begging for reassurance that she wasn't crazy. Faye tried to swallow, but a lump in her throat blocked her from breathing and even producing a single word on her tongue. The words caught in her throat turned into a muffled sound that sounded like Faye was about to cry.

 The redhead scrutinized Faye, squinting her brown eyes and pursing her plush lips. She strung back on her bottom lip and stood up, grabbing her designer purse in her small hands. She gave Faye one last examination before she stormed into the counselor's office and slammed the door behind her. "Hey!" The voice made Faye jump, her heartbeat accelerating as she fought to breathe properly.

 She turned her head to see Erica with a mischievous grin on her face. The blonde looked the same as she had yesterday; her plump lips were coated with a thick cherry red lipstick and her clothes clung tightly to her body, displaying her hips and breasts. Her blonde hair was in chunky curls that surrounded her petite face. "Someone's jumpy today," she observed with a laugh.

 "It's not funny," Faye grumbled as she inched towards her locker. She swung the bottom locker open and exchanged her coat for her plastic binder.

  "Are you coming tonight?" Frustration bubbled inside Faye as she stretched her legs when she stood up. Had Erica already forgotten about the fight they had had yesterday? Faye's blue eyes glanced quickly at her fingertips, wanting to reassure herself that her flesh was not dissolving into ash. Her eyes flickered back to Erica as she clenched her fingers in the palm of her hand, reminding herself that she was still human.

"What's tonight?"

"Other schools play basketball and soccer. Here? We have lacrosse."

Faye crinkled her nose. Erica noticed her friend's reaction and chuckled.

"C'mon Faye. We have the two best players on the team: Scott McCall and Jackson Whittemore." The familiar name of Scott echoed through her ears as she concentrated on her footsteps. Was the whole school infatuated with him?

 "Sorry, Miss Reyes. Miss Rosenberg will not be attending the lacrosse game since she decided to skip a study session yesterday after school. Isn't that right, Miss Rosenberg?

 Faye turned around the face the dreaded voice and to her dismay, Mr. Westover stood behind her with his arms crossed. She had completely forgotten about the study session yesterday and had opted to go home and sit in her room for hours.

"Sorry?" She offered, clutching her binder against her chest.

 He scoffed. "Not good enough Miss Rosenberg. I'll see you after school in my room. Bring yesterday's homework."

  Faye let out a rough groan as she turned to see Erica was gone. The last thing she wanted to do was spend anymore time at school than she had to, but if it meant avoiding Erica and sports, Faye would graciously accept the offer. She would rather die than watch a bunch of teenage boys hit each other with sticks and balls.

  AS THE day progressed, Faye found herself sitting in front of her bottom locker, munching on an almost frozen slice of pizza. She gnawed on the crust and watched students strut past her with her friends. Grabbing her water bottle from her purse, she chugged down the liquid as an annoying voice filled her head.

 "Have you managed to get it yet? Y'know, the book?" the short brunette boy asked. Stiles. Faye cussed under her breath and watched him converse with another girl. Was that girl his girlfriend? She was a bit taller than Stiles, and she was also brunette. Her curly hair bounced off her muscular, but dainty shoulders.

 "I'm doing my best, Stiles. Has Scott said anything about me?"

  Scott. It was as if the name was haunting her mind. She frowned, but continued to listen to the conversation. "Just the usual. He misses you and wishes he could hold you, blah blah blah sappy romance stuff. I zoned out after the first few words. I had to improvise the rest."

 The brunette chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest. "Tell him I miss him too." Her eyes scoured the hallways and she gave Stiles a quirky smile. "I'll see you later."

  "Bye Allison." The buzz cut boy noticed Faye's gaze and glared at her. She returned the favor. Stiles sulked off and Faye stood up to throw her stuff away. A group of teens wearing red pushed Faye into the middle of them, all of them chanting excitedly "Cyclones!" The blonde squeezed past the teens, distracted and not paying attention to where she was going. A body similar to her size crashed into her, and the deceiving sound of something breaking reverberated in the hall. Faye fell to the ground, along with the other person. 

  "I'm so sorry," Faye gushed, pushing herself towards the fallen object. It was a camera. She prayed that it wasn't broken because she didn't have the money to replace it. She picked it up, and looked on the screen to see a familiar face. The boy snatched the camera out of Faye's grip.

   Realizing his rudeness, his gaze softened. "Sorry. I just don't like anyone seeing my work." He stood up and offered Faye a hand. She accepted his calloused hand and when she had finished recollecting her thoughts, she  finally noticed the boy standing in front of her. He had dusty brown hair and a young face, one that looked like it should have been in middle school. "Are you new here?" He asked, pulling Faye from her thoughts.

 She nodded and picked her glasses off from the bridge of the nose. She rubbed her wool sleeve over the lenses and placed them back on. "I'm Matt, by the way," He said with a grin.

 "Faye. Once again, I'm so-"

"Daehler!" The angry voice snapped. A boy was storming down the hallway, steam coming out of his ears.

 "You better go," Matt whispered. "No one enjoys surviving the wrath of Jackson Whittemore."

   Faye took the advice to heart and walked away, only catching a glimpse of their conversation. The words "video" and "truck" were the ones she heard the clearest. What video? "Maybe it's a sex tape," Faye snickered to herself. She heard someone else laugh, and her head shot up to spot Scott McCall's back and Stiles's annoying face. Stiles whispered something to the boy and Scott covered his mouth. Was he the one who had laughed?

 Interest coursed through her veins, intertwining itself with her heated blood. The same feeling of paranoia rushed into her like a tidal wave. One question soaked into Faye's brain, making her head pulse. How had Scott heard her?

  FAYE ONCE again found herself staring at an messy whiteboard, trying to decipher the words on the board. Even though it was almost six o'clock at night, Faye was still at the school. She looked down at her paper that the study session had marked and frowned. Eleven out of thirty. She grabbed the paper in between her fingers and began to crumple it in her hands, when Mr. Westover's voice stopped her.

 "Do you understand? Faye?" The blonde dragged her eyes up to meet her teacher's crinkled eyes. 

 "Yes," she lied, placing the piece of paper in her lap and quietly crumpling it. Mr. Westover continued to drone on, his unemotional voice putting Faye to sleep. Her eyelids slapped against her pupils, and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. If she didn't get out, she was going to fall asleep. Lifting her hand into the air and stretching her muscles, she patiently waited for Mr. Westover to call on her.

   "Yes, Miss. Rosenberg?"

   "Can I go use the washroom? Please?" She gave a soft smile and the teacher sighed.

   "Alright. Be back as soon as you can, and leave your phone here." Faye  gently dropped her phone and glasses on her desk and practically sprinted out of the classroom. Her head ached from all the information; there was going to be a very slim chance of remembering it all. The blonde sucked on the warm air, the breeze moving in her throat as she exhaled it.

   Faye was about to enter the bathroom, when she noticed the hallway floor glistening. The floor sparkled with a thick liquid. Her hand gripped the doorway as she bent down and grazed her fingers along the dirty floor. A strange substance latched on to her two fingers, creating a slimy texture. The slime trailed down her fingers, coating them in the thick substance. With a flick of her wrist, the slime flung off her and back on to the concrete floor.

  The ooze created a trail that led down another hallway. The voice in the back of her head yelled at her to follow it, while another voice told her to think this through. Faye was never good with decisions and she always felt like she was being ripped apart by the opposing forces. This time was different. She had chosen her option before she had even outweighed the ramifications. Her sneakers squeaked against the concrete with every footstep she took. The hallways were eerily silent, but the soft hum of people cheering from outside reassured Faye that she was fine.

  The blonde followed the string of ectoplasm, her breaths beginning to scrape against her dry lungs. A knife scraped against the back of her throat, making her throat gnaw with pain every time she attempted to swallow the saliva that no long coated her mouth. Her pulse traveled down her fingertips as she reached the end of the trail. In front of her, stood a blue door. She peered into the room, black dots cluttering her vision.

 She could see a clear, blue pool staring back at her. Faye expected it to be empty, but the moment she saw movement ripple through the glass body of water, she knew something was wrong. She could feel herself starting to sweat as she placed her hand on the doorknob. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she mumbled to herself.

  Swinging open the door, she waltzed in and groaned. Stiles and the familiar man from the hospital were in the pool. Faye's eyes narrowed under the shadow of her brow as she waltzed towards them. They both noticed her and Stiles let out a yelp. She studied them carefully; Stiles was gripping the older man under his armpits, almost as if he was a baby. The older man's face was contorted to express frustration and anger.

 "Faye," Stiles said, struggling to keep himself above the water. "You need to get out of here!"

 "Why are you guys swimming in the pool? You do know that it's off limits after 5, right?"

 Stiles and the other man ignored her remark and looked at each other. "Derek, can you hear anything?" The older man didn't nod his head. He rotated it on his shoulders, like he was having problems moving. He looked young, but he was still older than the high school student holding him in the pool.

 His eyes flickered to the door and then back to Stiles. "Get her out of here," he seethed. "The last thing we need is another useless human. We already have you." 

 "You do know that I'm the only thing keeping you from drowning, right?" Stiles snapped. Derek ignored the boy's remark and said something that would make Faye have chilling nightmares. 

"It's too late."

"Faye," Stiles said in a calm voice. "I need you to jump into the pool with me. Right now."

 Faye crossed her arms. "There is no way in hell I'm getting in the pool. Especially not with you and some random guy!" She hissed.

 "Can you please just put away your hatred for Stiles away for five minutes? If I can do it, I'm sure you can," Derek stated, his eyes glancing all over the room. What was he looking for?

  Faye looked down at the water, chills dancing along the curves of her back. She could see her reflection rippling in the water. She also saw another reflection. Before Faye could let out a scream of pure terror, the giant, snake-like creature head butted her into the pool. The water collapsed around her as she fell into the liquid, the cold soaking her wool sweater and jeans. Bubbles flew out of her mouth as she looked up at the water above her. Her arms tried to maneuver her body to the surface, but it was no use. Water began to seep into her mouth and her nose, the wretched taste of chlorine sinking into her throat. Her body sank to the bottom of the pool as she continued to gasp for breath.

 The black spots in her peripheral vision began to soak up her view as Faye's arms and legs stopped thrashing. A familiar sense of darkness came over her, and before it could swallow her whole she heard Derek shout "Stiles, you idiot! She can't swim! "

                                                                      ●       ●         ●        ●        ●    

mwahaha.

dedicated to Twenty_Nine_

thank you for your continuous support and lovely comments!

xx