Chapter Text
You see, knowing you’re crazy doesn’t stop the crazy things from happening. In my opinion it only makes them worse.
--
Here lies Stiles Stilinski, buried six feet under his bed sheets and blankets, as good as dead to the world. He doesn’t really enjoy leaving his bedroom. Not that he has much problems with the outside world, it’s just that he doesn’t have the energy to move. So, he doesn’t.
You see, Stiles was clinically diagnosed with Schizophrenia about two years ago. He got it from his mother who killed herself in Eichen Hou-
“Enough!”
Stiles screamed holding his ears, trying to block out the, extremely annoying, voice. He hated it when it talked about his mother. Almost makes him want to follow in her footsteps and-
Just like that the door burst open. His Dad. Who seemed to be alerted by Stiles’ rampant screaming.
He gets that his dad is trying to be helpful and supportive but sometimes he wishes he’d just stop trying in give up. It’s almost torturous whenever he sees his father’s face; Knowing he put all those stress marks and wrinkles on it.
“Stiles? Are you alright?” His dad almost shouted.
“Yes. I’m fine” He answered back more agitated than he wanted it to seem.
“Well, alright then. You don’t have to go to school today if you don’t want to.” His dad always said that after an episode and his answer is always the same annoyed response.
“I’m fine”
His dad sighed and nodded. Stiles began packing for school.
--
Episodes like that don’t always happen that often. Usually 5 or 6 times every week. That number has gone down a lot these past couple years. In the beginning of this entire ordeal, it was usually 10 or 12 times a week. His psychologist tells him to celebrate that fact but it’s kind of hard to do that if you can’t feel any emotions, like at all.
His psychologist, Ms. Morell, calls it “feeling numb” which he supposes is a good term for it.
His jeep comes to a stop in his assigned parking spot, disrupting his train of thought. He supposes it entirely dangerous driving his jeep while having three quarters of his mind on something else but he just can’t find his will to care. If he dies, he dies.
He knows he’s being selfish. His dad would be completely wrecked if Stiles had died. As would the pack. Despite his self-esteem issues, he still knows that his dad and friends love him. But Stiles is so desperate for a release that he would be willing to smash a few hearts to get it.
And wow that made him sound like a giant asshole.
The next thing he knows he’s at his locker and Scott’s rushing up to him.
He really needs to stop blanking out.
“Hey dude! Want to hang out today? Just you and me, no Allison or anybody else. Maybe you could even sleep over!” Scott smiled.
Scott’s been supportive ever since he’s been diagnosed, surprisingly giving up precious time with his girlfriend, Allison, to hang out with him.
Unfortunately even that doesn’t help.
“Sure Scotty. I just need to go home and get my meds and we should be good. Want me to pick up some pizza on the way there?” Stiles didn’t really want to go. Just trying to appease his best friend since he’s been blowing him off non stop. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Scott. It’s just that sometimes he feels so drained at the end of the day. Wanting to just fall into his comfy bed, take a nap and never wake up.
“Would you? That would be so amazing!” Scott looked like an excited puppy which brought a small giggle out of Stiles. The small sound bringing an even bigger smile to his friends face.
“We should go, the bell’s about to ring.” Scott trudged off, slowing down so I could catch up.
Stiles hurried to Harris’ class beside his brother/best friend.