#trapped.start

@trappedreblogs​

@trappedreblogs​

Lori stood in line at the concessions stand, trying to pick what she wanted, half concentrating on what was on offer, and the other trying to listen in on the conversations around her. She couldn’t seem to tune into anything in particular though, and she frowned, confused. As a hand tapped her shoulder, she jumped, spinning around, and blushing, realising someone had been trying to get her attention. “Shit! Sorry I was miles away...” She shrugged, forcing a smile. “You can go ahead of me if you want? I still haven’t decided.”

Kitty had spent  the morning curled up in the corner of the library, among the children’s books, staring intently at the book in front of her, sounding out the words as best she could. But now, she’d been stuck on the same page for what felt like forever, and she was getting frustrated. Finally standing up, she walked over to the first person she saw, pointing at the words.

“What is that, and what does it mean?”

It had been almost a week since he’d come back and Gabe hadn’t gone out much, he was avoiding anyone and everyone, he didn’t know who might recognize him, who might want to hurt him. A lot of people had that right and he wouldn’t stop them if they tried to get revenge. 

It felt wrong to be back, like he’d cheated death and now he was waiting to pay the ultimate price again, his life. 

But being back from the dead meant he had to eat food again, he didn’t want to waste away again, not by starving to death. So he found himself leaving his aunt and uncle’s house, they hadn’t moved away, it didn’t even seem like they’d sold the place, as far as he could tell they were just gone. 

His best guess was that they’d up and left after he’d died, not that he could blame them. He just wonders if anyone told them about the things he’d done. He wondered if they hated him. 

Gabe was paranoid, he didn’t know just what was going on inside of Beacon Hills, he didn’t know what force had brought him back, so every little noise had him on edge. 

Mason was running, he’d gotten separated from Henrik at some point and now he was hunting. The difference being the type of prey, he’d been out with Henrik when someone had cut themselves on a piece of glass so he’d taken off running before the scent of blood could overwhelm him. 

To take the edge off he’d decided to hunt, it was a small rabbit, something to just give him enough to find Henrik and move on with their night. 

To the left a branch snapped causing him to stop and freeze. 

Allison stared at the glass of wine in her hand, before she tossed it down her throat, getting herself another. She wasn’t sure how many it’d been now, but she’d just had the need to feel something, even if that something was a lack of feeling anything. She’d planned on asking Lydia to come with her tonight, so she could let her hair down and think about anything but Stiles for a few minutes, and Allison could forget the absolutely stupid and insane thoughts that were running through her head and fuck that radio bitch for saying what she said.

But Lydia had never messaged her back, and Allison wanted to give her space. Plus, apparently she was too busy hanging out with Malia. She didn’t even need Allison and her once-dead ass anymore. She felt a tear slip, at which she took another sip instead. She needed another wine.

“I’m an emotional drunk and someone needs to stop me.” She said outloud, huffing, at no one in particular.