MIŁOSŁAW RUPERT 'STILES' STILINSKI, DISTRICT TWO

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Pronouns: they/them
last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

MIŁOSŁAW RUPERT 'STILES' STILINSKI, DISTRICT TWO Jan 29, 2014 23:14:18 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Jan 29, 2014 23:14:18 GMT -5

miłosław rupert stilinksi

[presto]

"Best friend to Soren Mccall,
Miles is the sarcastic, clever and
loyal sidekick known for his geeky
tendencies and his unrequited crush
on Liela Martin. Soren's initiation
into the pack for career training was
a secret that could not be concealed
for very long, and as soon as the cat
(or wolf in this case) was out of the
bag Miles started tagging along, though
he is not an official member. He enjoys
observing the training, and is famous for
being quite the comic relief.
Underestimated or not, Miles is a loyal
companion, and he will find a place
among the feud as it wages on."

N a m e : MIŁOSŁAW RUPERT 'STILES' STILINKSKI
A g e : SEVENTEEN
G e n d e r : MALE
L o c a t i o n : DISTRICT TWO
F a c e c l a i m : GONG CHAN SHIK
J o b : COMIC RELIEF/STUDENT
S o n g : CAR RADIO - 21 PILOTS
P l o t : lose your mind .:teen wolf:.
C o d e w o r d : ødair

[/presto]

Last Edit: Mar 7, 2014 5:19:01 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
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✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Graphics

5,831 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

MIŁOSŁAW RUPERT 'STILES' STILINSKI, DISTRICT TWO Jan 30, 2014 7:20:48 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Jan 30, 2014 7:20:48 GMT -5

[presto]

[/presto]

One of the coolest things I ever heard was that there was a man who was named Achilles and he was born perfect in every way and he was strong and brave and no one ever could stop him because he was dipped in a river which made him unable to be killed when he was just a baby but then one day someone discovered that his ankle was the only part of him that was not impenetrable because his mother had held him by that ankle and forgot to dip it in too and it got me thinking that I am the man who knew that the ankle would be a weak spot where Soren is the man who was seemingly without weakness even though he does have it but I'm the only one who ever sees it but just because a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, it still will make a sound and therefore we are Patroclus and Achilles

And we've been best friends since we started crawling because as it turns out the district isn't as big a place as we once thought and small towns are small, everyone knows everyone and everyone knows what's happening always so really it's no surprise that I've known my best friend forever and I can honestly say that he has a really big heart but perhaps a smaller brain but that's alright because what he doesn't have in brain cells he makes up for in strength and loyalty so I can honestly say that I feel like the luckiest guy in the world to have a friend like him and I've heard people calling out gay behind our backs but it never bothered me and it never bothered him because I know that he loves girls as he's always after one or another and I've been in love with Liela since I met her just because I have been and I think I'd have a lot of spare time if I didn't spend so much time thinking about her.

My thoughts are scattered things, bursts of information and broken syllables that all end up in a giant crash inside the eight-way intersection that is the motorway of my brain, my ticker moves at a mile per minute always all over and roundabout too I lose myself in my thoughts because I don't carry a road map myself you see and sometimes I end up in the section of random ass thoughts that no one cares about, or in the section of quotes from dead guys, or in the section of math equations that I enjoyed solving, or in the section of what is for dinner, or in the section of hi my mother is dead and my father is never home because he went off and became a peacekeeper and sometimes I have panic attacks and I can't breath but then other times I just grin and bare it, grin and bare it my teachers always said because everybody dies and people lose people all the time, especially these days so get over your mother Stiles Stilinski or we'll give you something to cry about.

And the list of what I 'suffer' from is growing and growing everyday because first it started with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and after my mother dies it grew into anxiety and panic attacks and childhood trauma and depression and night terrors and the list only ever seems to grow and not make it's self smaller until I find that some times it's like I'm running a pharmacy out of my bedroom with all the pills I'm meant to be taking that are meant to adjust my life and make things more bearable and easy to deal with but that's a lie because nothing has ever been easy to deal with and I think the pills just make it worse, they make me tired and slow, they stop my brain ticking they make me stupid and dull and I hate it but sometimes I need them because sleeping is a necessity for me and I mostly can't unless I take pills but then the pills always make me tired too far into the next day and people ask what's wrong and oh god

please

don't let me be that kid in school that people walk around because they don't like the vacant look in his eyes and the way he drags his feet because I am much happier being known for being a clumsy nerd who trips over his own feet and reads comic books like I always have been and I don't think I could bear it if people gave me the same looks of pity reserved for the siblings of tributes or kids with physical injuries because I am not the boy with the broken hip or the boy with a broken leg I am a boy with a broken heartbone and a brain that is sick with a malady that I can't seem to kick. And sometimes I lay awake at night and I clutch at my head or I claw at my back in stress because there is something wrong with me okay sure but I don't know how to fix it and the pills don't help me and no one knows how to help me because they don't understand how to and I don't want their help because I think I prefer being sad because I have held onto this sadness for so long now that I don't know what I would be without it

Because sometimes my fingers ache from clenching them so tightly in my sleep and I grind myself to dust every night out of fear because I have hands so I can hurt myself and my name is one that my mother gave me out of love but I've never worn it with pride and I feel guilty about that but I don't know what to do about that because I already get teased enough the last thing I need is people teasing me about my name and my father still calls me it every time he's home and he asks me to fill up his glass of whisky but I hate it when he drinks because he doesn't even get violent he just gets sad and that almost hurts more because I would prefer violence to the look he gives me

and he asks

"Miles, have you taken your pills today?"

because he always asks and I am a terribly at lies so I don't even try anymore so I always miserably trudge upstairs to take them and my dad is still convinced that science will win out and it will fix me but I was never fully collected back up when I shattered the last time and it turns out that there are pieces of me missing and I am unfixable and no one can do anything about this. Besides the fact that when I don't take my pills for ADHD I am on top of the world from anti-depressants and my hyperactivity which makes me unable to focus so well on just one thing which is good because I dwell too much on things but then again sometimes I focus on all things at once and I suppose the aderall is good for some things because even though it slows everything down, it slows everything down and lets me really think but I don't want to think, I don't want to think about her.

I take the pills though when my father tells me to and I suppose they'll kick in at any moment and I wonder if he can see the difference when they do because I sure can feel it I feel like a hummingbird with clipped wings when they do and I dread it but then sometimes I love it because I can wallow and to be honest I've always hated wallowing in self pity but every now and again it's sort of nice because when you're the only one that you have someone has to feel pity for you and it might as well as be yourself and I know that I have my father but someone has to take care of him and I can't let him worry about me like that and Soren has too much happiness that I like to latch onto to taint him with the blackness that I feel like I'm always drowning in and

it's sort of like hanging from a noose but with the tips of your toes on the ground so that you can just get enough air to survive but you feel like you could die any second and especially if you just pull your feet up and let yourself hang and forget about trying to breathe and forget about all the reasons to stay alive and forget about everything because you can stop struggling because it's over and finally done and you can just rest now but there is something in you that wants to live and so your feet keep trying to reach the ground and your neck burns and there are tears in your eyes and you have to keep fighting because you have a best friend named Soren McCall and he is expecting you tomorrow to trade tribute cards with

and so there is a desperation inside of me that lurks, waiting for a moment to strike because I want to be alive and I want to be here in specifics and I love going to school, I love learning and living and life in general but how the hell would you live with yourself if you knew that you were responsible for your mother's death?

Because that's me.

I flop onto my bed with a sigh and push my head into the softness of the blanket. It smells of lavender because I still buy the same washing powder from the lady down the street that my mother always did. I can almost feel my thoughts slowing down, arranging themselves into some semblance of order as the aderall begins to kick in. It's not that I'm completely crazy, it's just that I can't even focus on one what the hell I'm doing without it. I think my father must have noticed I hadn't taken it because I put the cat in the sink and started giving him a bath and then left him there purring for an hour while I unscrewed all the handles on the kitchen cabinet so I could repaint them.

To be honest, I always fight taking it, but I realize I do need to. I feel a lot better now, more calm, far more focused. Which is bad because when I am calm I think and when I start thinking I cannot stop. Not taking aderall is like letting myself procrastinate trying to resolve myself. Which is good but also not good and I've got to stop being an asshole and take the damn pills. I flop one long up over to the side of my bed where the rest of my retinue of pills lay and pop open the lid for my anti-depressants. I pause as I think back to this morning, trying to remember if I'd already taken them or not.

Sometimes I am not sure if I'm feeling anything at all or if I'm just pretending to and it's confusing as hell. Deciding not to risk an overdose, I let my thumb pop the lid back on and I roll off of my bed and onto the ground. When I bring myself to a sitting position I am looking into the mirror that hangs on the back of my door. For a few precious seconds, I stare at eyes that are a dark brown, hair that is dark and pulled up in tufts all over, a lanky body and lips that are shaped in a mixture of disbelief and disgust. With a sigh, I bring my hands up to cover my flat face and drag the tips of my long fingers down so that I pull at my eyelids, my cheekbones, and then my chin.

I'm distracting myself, trying to delay the inevitable moment when I start thinking about every little thing that has happened in my life because that is where the aderall has it's bad point. I become so focused if I have nothing to distract me that I can spend hours just thinking about all my shortcomings. There is no Soren to distract me today because he's off training with the gang. I didn't go today because I was going to research something. I was going to research something because my superpower of inhuman clumsiness makes me useless as a career. Yet another of my shortcomings.

I flop over to the side and stretch out my too long and undermuscled body. I'm definitely a teenager, with limbs too big and too long. I don't even know what to do with them.

I don't have anything to do, nor to think about.

So my thoughts go back to where they always do.

I have spent entire days thinking about what I might have done differently on that one stupid day three years ago when I got my mother killed. The fact is, there are too many things because I was a stupid fourteen year old who didn't understand anything but thought that I did because when you're a teenager, you think you're an adult. Maybe it was all those teachers always telling me how smart I was, or my own parents blowing my head up. I guess too, that it wasn't my fault. It was a damned random series of events that led to my mother's death but I had such a key part in it that sometimes I dream that I did it on purpose. I wake up in a pool of my own sweat, confusion clawing at my brain, tears half formed in my eyes.

What happened was, my mother asked me to pass through the market on my way home and buy some fruit for the evening's dessert, which happened to be a cobbler. When I'd asked her which fruit she'd wanted, she'd told me I could choose. My favourite had always been her berry one, so when I arrived at the market, I thought I would be smart and buy from the cheapest stall, which happened to be a new one. I remember how much the small punnet of berries cost, how I resisted eating even one because I wanted to make sure that there would be enough for the cobbler, how excited I was for the dessert. Because that's what I cared about back then. Dessert. Go figure.

Anyway, I arrived home, Soren jostling me, trying to reach over and grab a berry out of the punnet. I knew he was only teasing me, but I got frustrated with him and told him to go home because he was annoying me. I remember presenting my mother with the berries and then legging it upstairs to be alone with a brand new comic book.

The part I always remember most clearly is the moment I heard a thud from downstairs and didn't bother going to check what was wrong. Sometimes I lay awake at night and I can hear the thud over and over, on the floor below me and I can't move out of fear and it only gets louder and louder, insisting on being heard, on being noticed. My fingers clench the carpet and I try to pull it up out of the floor in an effort to distract myself because the next part is the part that I hate thinking about most. Like the thud, it demands to be remembered.

It's because the next part was the part when I went downstairs ten minutes later and entered the kitchen to find my mother on the floor, the punnet of berries scattered all over like little dark marbles and the fact that she wasn't even breathing. In that moment, I'd thought back to the walk home and how I wanted to eat a berry and Soren had been whinging at me for just one and I didn't let him and something had been nagging at me because I thought that they looked a little dark. The last thing I fucking said to my mother was that I'd talk to her later because I wanted to read a comic book and then I think about how I literally gave her a loaded gun and she mistook it for a berry so she ate it.

Then I remember thinking about how royally I had fucked up and I wasn't having a dream and there was no eraser that would fix this because I couldn't go back in time and what I had done to my mother was irreversible and that is the hardest part. My father always had a quick fix for everything but this time nothing could be done because my mother's fate was sealed the moment I bought those berries.

I press one fingernail into the skin on my arm, hard enough that blood begins to pool under the bed but I don't want to think about this anymore, about my father's face when he heard the whole story, about my mother's funeral, about everything since then. I cringe and grab a pillow off the bed and toss it across the room to hit the mirror. My stomach hurts and I feel like I'm going to burst into tears and I don't want to be here anymore and I don't want to be anywhere anymore.

For all the good qualities that I have, when push comes to shove, I killed my mother.

I killed my mother, and it doesn't matter how many good grades I get, how many laughs I get at my latest snide remark, how many times my father says it wasn't my fault. It was my fault. If it wasn't my fault then who's was it? Who's was it?

I hate this face that I see in the mirror and I hate the way I can't ever think and I hate the way I can think. I hate the way I still obsessively collect comic books and the way my limbs refuse to cooperate and let me be a badass. I hate the way everyone always relies on me because I'm smart, or how they look to me because my life seems so good. I feel like I am literally drowning on air. As a last attempt, I reach up to the bed and let my hands find the capsules of sleeping pills that I barely ever touch but today I've gone too far with the whole thinking thing, and today I just want to go away from myself and I don't care about the consequences because I deserve them.

I can't deal with what I feel.

I can't.

[presto]

[/presto]

Last Edit: Mar 7, 2014 15:22:00 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

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clown car / pietro
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✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Graphics 5,831 POSTS Pronouns: they/them last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5 “And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck	MIŁOSŁAW RUPERT 'STILES' STILINSKI, DISTRICT TWO Mar 7, 2014 5:19:45 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Mar 7, 2014 5:19:45 GMT -5 complete! Sorry it took so long, holy hell! I hope it wasn't too confusing a read, I used stream of consciousness for the first half.
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✨ Advertiser 8,136 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Apr 19, 2024 17:24:18 GMT -5 bloomtodeath	MIŁOSŁAW RUPERT 'STILES' STILINSKI, DISTRICT TWO Mar 7, 2014 13:15:14 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ✨ on Mar 7, 2014 13:15:14 GMT -5 screeches YAAAAAS
	“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”