There's only so much a person can take. What truly messed you up, is when you learned that the only woman you can say you loved, the woman who looked upon you with such love in her eyes, the woman you called your mother, shattered you. You tried to put yourself back together to enjoy what was left of your time, and you do but then the people you called friends shut you out of their lives. It breaks you apart. Even without them, you think, well at least I still have my father. But you know that's a lie because you know your father has never really let you in. It doesn't matter you tell yourself. I'm going to stay strong till the end. I won't break.

Stiles

When I first saw him, I could tell he wasn't normal. It was the night after my mother past away when I was eight. It was only for a few seconds before he vanished that I held his steady gaze. The look in his eyes as he stared right back into mine. They were filled with such coldness that it sent shivers down my spine and the hair in my neck to stand. At the same time there was this playful malice and not to mention age. No, not normal - evil.

The second time was when I was ten. This time he spoke and I listened. No matter how much I didn't want to believe a word he said, I did. The conversation that was held between us tore into me more than what a knife could ever hope to possibly accomplish. And the last words he said to me were something that rung in my head every waking moment for the rest of my now shortened life.

"The next time you see me, Stiles, I'll be coming to collect what has been mine since before you even existed."

He was supposed to take it that very night but he was being oh so generous and gave me a little more time. Until after my eighteenth birthday he said. Of course, now that I think back it was totally cliché of him. Either that or he wanted to see me suffer with the knowledge of what was to come.

A lot has happened since then. At first it was just Scott and me versus the world. But come one night Scott decides to get bit by a bat-shit crazy version of lassie. For those that don't know, a werewolf. Of course, there would be werewolves, I mean demons from Hell exist and I have personally met one, so why not them. No one really considered why I took everything from having a hand in destroying the Alpha that bit Scott to the whole Kanima/Jackson/Matt/Gerard incident in stride and I didn't expect them to. Oh and now the whole Alpha pack situation. They returned Erica and Boyd saying that Derek needed all the help he could get but in the end Derek's pack would be wiped from existence. As another gift, they thought he could use more help so they took it upon themselves to give Danny the bite. Cocky bastards. Everyone-especially Jackson-was furious, though everyone accepted Danny into the pack with open arms. The pack was growing. Derek as the Alpha, Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Danny, Allison, and Lydia. Hell even Peter was in. Before the Alphas decided to attack, I slowly but surely realized that I wasn't considered part of the pack.

It's not that I suddenly realized that I wasn't needed or I jumped to any conclusions. It started slowly. Scott started hanging with the pack more often than me and I understood that he needed them. Jackson got worse with his hazing me. I figured he would have lightened up a bit now that we were pack. I guess not. Erica, Boyd, Lydia (as usual) and Isaac gave me the cold shoulder.

Later on, everything progressed to the point where Scott basically didn't need me anymore. Scratch that. He actually told me that to my face. With everyone else the, 'Shut up, Stiles', or the 'Your so annoying' remarks became 'Just go away', 'Why are you even here?', 'We don't need you', and 'You're useless.' I knew it was over when I went to my last pack meeting. As always I have to be my lovable self and open my mouth. It's me for crying out loud so what else was new? And like usually Derek grabs me and slams me into the nearest wall. I anticipated it though this time when it happened, there was more force and to the point where I actually bled. I stared at him in shock feeling the blood trickle down my neck and my head ache. I thought he would apologize or say something for me to believe he didn't mean to be so rough. But he didn't let up. His eyes showed me that he didn't care about my well-being at all. It was like he wanted me to believe he meant it. He was supposed to be the Alpha. He knew I was human which meant I was a lot more breakable than his Betas. That's when it hit me. He didn't care because he wasn't my Alpha. He didn't think I was pack. When he let me go, I looked around the room expecting or more like hoping to see concern in my friends' eyes. No. Just annoyance or a blank stare. When I met Scott's eyes, they were the same as the rest. It finally sunk in. They didn't want me. They didn't care about me. I wasn't their friend anymore. I wasn't Scott's friend anymore. I wasn't family like everyone else there. I didn't need to ask Why not me? I knew the answers. I knew the difference between me and the other two humans in the pack. I knew the reason why Peter was accepted into the pack and I was not. I didn't need anybody to explain because they've all said it before. So I walked away from them. I caught the mixes of confusion and relief on everyone's face as I did. Even on Derek's and Peter's. I ignored it though. Did they honestly think I was going to go on a rant trying to get them to accept me and let me stay? No. I knew my time was up here. They didn't need me and they didn't want me so I'd leave them be. It hurt walking away but I was going to stay strong just as always. I won't break.

This just proved my parents were right about me because my father mumbles it unconsciously or when he doesn't think I'm around. I ignored it. I wanted it to be real. I wanted his love no matter if it was fake. Even if the only reason he puts up a front and keeps me around was for the promise he made to my mother when she passed. The reluctant promise but promise nonetheless. How sad that even as a child I could tell. I could tell that whenever my mother gave me love and affection no matter how unbelievably pitiful it was, my father was jealous of me. He thought she only loved me and not him anymore since I was all she talked about. She was always around me and wouldn't even bat an eyelash at him. At first he thought it was the fact I was their first child and I was but an infant. It dawned on him as I grew, that I was her entire world and he came to hate me for it. He didn't show it and maybe he didn't entirely hate me altogether. If he did he wouldn't have bothered with me in the first place. He may have put some effort but I know he didn't let me into his world. The world that only contained him and my mother. How could he have known that he had nothing to be jealous of in the first place? How could he have known that the woman he loved more than anything in the world, sold the soul of their first born child when she was younger? How could he have known that the love she gave for me was nothing but pitiful guilt filled love? That it wasn't real.

My mother showered me with her fake love and affection and I basked in it with all my childish ignorance. No matter how fake it was, it didn't last.

When my mother got sick, she changed. At first, I blamed it on the cancer. It was like she didn't want to put up with me anymore and it felt like she was trying too hard to keep up the effort to actually care for me. Her illness got worse and I blamed myself for it. I knew I was tough to handle with my ADHD and that she needed her rest so why not blame myself? Little did I know, she blamed me as well. I remember this look in her eyes whenever she stared at me. Nobody saw it except for me, when I caught her in the act. I didn't understand it.

I understood why all too well one seemingly normal day. I came down stairs from playing in my room all morning to see her sitting on a chair in the kitchen just staring into nothing. I called out to her and asked if she was okay. And I remember to this day, the words she spoke to me.

"No. I'm not okay. I'm going to die and it's all your fault." She spoke to me so eerie and hollow but it was her words that proved that I was right. It was my fault. I just hadn't expected to hear her tell me this.

"What did I do mommy?" With my shock at her words I could only whisper. Who knew those words would make her snap.

"What didn't you do!? I'm not supposed to be dying! I had you in the first place so I could live! Now here I am you stupid worthless child, dying because there must be something wrong with you! There has to be! Why else would I be sick if it wasn't your fault!? You're nothing to me! You're useless!"

Once the last word left her lips, she collapsed.

That night at the hospital, she died.

I cried for her with the thought that I had killed her. I didn't understand everything she said but I got that she blamed me for her death. For two years I believed that she had every right to blame me and though I didn't physically kill her, I truly believed that I was my mother's killer. That night when he came to me and explained it all, I didn't want it to be true. It was and her words to me that day were anything but proof that he wasn't lying. Even with what she did, I couldn't help but think she was right in some way. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Why else wouldn't it have worked? It had to have been me. Maybe I was worthless even to a demon who do anything in their power to collect souls. Maybe she was right and I am useless.