turning to dust | bofwc #1
BOF WRITING CHALLENGE ā #1 death of a loved one SUMMARY āĀ tl:dr; #bye SONG āĀ to build a home ā the cinematic orchestra
Stiles understood that living in a home with two Dauntless leaders for parents meant that he would sometimes have to stay home alone. For the most part he would put on a brave face and act like being alone in a big loft was no big deal, because that's what Dauntless were supposed to be; brave. Others strived to be the best they could be, but Stiles just wanted to be like his parents.
No matter how exhausted they were after coming home from their patrols or faction meetings, they would always have time for their hyperactive son with a million questions that always seemed to spill out at once. Stiles admired them, he wanted to be like them. Sure he wasn't the most promising student in his year, but props had to be given for his dedication to his training.
Still though, the concept of being alone in a big old loft was daunting for an eight year old, as brave faced as he tried to be. Stiles had never realised it at the time, but when people like Liz Forbes or the older kids Stiles admired would hang out with him they had come because Stiles' mother had asked them to look out for him.
On the night everything had changed for him, he was staying at his best friend Caroline's house for the night with her and her mother. Where other kids might have found movies or games to play at night to keep them busy, Stiles and Caroline would train. The concept of hitting a girl wasn't really something he worried about, mostly because he could never get a clean hit in anyway. Nine times out of ten their fights would end with Stiles pinned to the ground crying 'uncle' before Caroline twisted his arm back too far.
"Don't gloat too much, Caroline. I'll get you one day." He huffed with a grin as he pushed himself into a sitting position and stretched out his arm. She had only laughed and rolled her eyes at him, muttering a 'whatever' before she headed for the bathroom.
That was how Stiles had spent a lot of his nights, they would do their homework, have something to eat, train til they were exhausted, and he'd pass out until his mother or father came to pick him up. Only this time they didn't. Stiles wanted to show them a new move he had learnt in his self defence class and wanted to wait up for them, naturally he made Caroline stay up with him. It was bordering on midnight when he heard the knock at the door and ran out of Caroline's room towards the front door, stopping in his tracks when he saw Mrs. Forbes talking to someone that definitely wasn't his parents. He recognised them as one of the Dauntless trainers. Stiles would have immediately walked back to the room if he hadn't caught the look on their face when they saw him standing in the hall.
He heard Caroline's footsteps behind him but didn't turn to face her, his gaze still fixated on the person in the doorway. He couldn't hear what they were saying and he knew he shouldn't be trying to eavesdrop but he found himself rooted to the floor, a sinking feeling in his stomach telling him something bad had happened. When the door closed Caroline moved towards her mother who still hadn't turned to face them and tugged on her arm. "Ms Forbes are you okay?" Stiles asked her as he walked from the shadows towards her. He didn't like the look on Caroline's face when she saw her mothers expression and immediately stopped in his tracks when he saw for himself. Caroline's mother was someone he had never seen cry or look sad, and here she was with red-rimmed eyes and a broken expression. For him.
"Stiles... honey. I-it's your mother." He didn't like the tone of her voice, or the way tears began to fall from his eyes before he even knew what she was trying to say.
"She died."
The next few moments would live on as a blur to him. He had suddenly felt it difficult to breathe and fell to his knees, tears streaming freely down his face. He barely registered Mrs. Forbes crouching down in front of him to wrap her arms around him and saw Caroline over her shoulder though he couldn't see her properly because of the tears clouding his eyes. He felt hollow, confused, disbelieving. Death wasn't a concept he understood properly, but he knew what those two words meant.
When you're a child you believe you're parents are invincible, they were always supposed to be around to yell at your when your shirt wasn't tucked in, to kiss you on the cheek in public and embarrass you in front of your friends, to hug you out of the blue because they knew it's just what you needed. When you're a child you believe they're always going to be there. The realisation that his mother wouldn't be hit him hard, like someone had dropped a two tonne weight on his chest. He couldn't sob or yell or find the strength to push her away because he couldn't breathe. Both Liz and Caroline were trying to calm him down but nothing worked. His head was spinning and the weight on his chest just kept getting heavier.
In a burst of anger, he pushed them both aside and ran for the door, ignoring both their calls for him as he sprinted down the halls faster than he had ever run before. He heard one of them trying to catch up to him, he couldn't tell who because he soon lost them around the narrow hallways.
She's not dead, they're at home. They're at home, they're waiting for me. He repeated over and over in his head like a mantra, his short legs taking his faster than he ever realised he could run and soon saw the door to their home. They're waitingā He shouldered their front door open and ran inside, breathing heavily as he ran from room to room. "Mom! Dad! I'm home!" He cried out loud, the tears already dry on his face. "Mom!"
He ran into his bedroom thinking that they were waiting for him there only to find it just the way he had left it earlier. "Mom! Where are you I want to show you something." His tone had come down a notch, from anxious to exhausted, exhausted to defeated. "Mom?" He pushed open the door to his parents room, expecting to see them sleeping in their bed but knowing in his heart that it was only wishful thinking. The tears had started streaming down his face again, this time he didn't bother to wipe them away as he crawled onto his mothers side of the bed and cried, holding her pillow close as if he were holding onto her herself.
His tears had dried by the time the door creaked open again, a few moments passing before Stiles felt the bed dip on the other side and immediately rolled over to wrap his arms around his father and clung to him. Neither of them shed any tears, though their eyes showed that they had shed them already.
They had fallen asleep like that; father and son holding onto each other. One mourning a wife, the other mourning a mother. Both holding on to the only family they had left. Then as if on cue, they wept.
