The Shining ¥ Teen Wolf

thirty-nine

When Winnie Jones was six, she woke up screaming in the middle of the night. She could barely breathe, every inch of her body shaking.

Her twin brother Pete, only a room away, slept right through it. To this day, he doesn't know about the occurrence. There were a lot of things he didn't know about when it came to his sister.

At 1:35, Jasper Jones woke up out of nowhere.

At 1:36, his little sister started screaming.

Despite being only eight, Jasper rushed from his room and into Winnie's. He grabbed her shoulders, damp hair hanging in his eyes as he shook her. "Win, snap out of it. Win, Win."

The young form of Winnie fell forward against Jasper, her screams cutting out.

Wearing a batman tshirt and a look of concern, Jasper held onto his sister. "Tell me what happened. What do you need?"

"Easel," Winnie mumbled against him, her face warm with tears.

Jasper picked Winnie up, carrying her out of the room. He walked by nightlight, nudging open the sun room. "Lights," he warned as he hit the switch with his shoulder.

Winnie curled against Jasper, shielding her eyes from the quick change of light.

"Ready?" he asked as he set down Winnie before grabbing a canvas and placed it on an empty easel. "What tones do you need? Brushes?"

Even at six she fluently spoke art.

"Cools, earthy," Winnie said through shakes. "Pointed, fanned."

"Do your thing," Jasper said as he handed her a fresh palette of paints and a cup of brushes. "You're safe, Win."

Winnie picked up a brush, her gaze seeming to fog the moment the bristles touched the paint.

Jasper leaned back against the bureau housing all the art supplies under the sun. He waited, watching Winnie's every stroke.

There had been no stroke of genius in himself, unlike nights when both would wake with a shine so strong it would blind.

Whatever event made her shine - Jasper wouldn't be in it.

Even at eight, he knew something would happen to him. Something that would take him out of the picture. Out of the canvas; out of the pigmented hues and strokes.

Half an hour passed, Jasper doing off against the dresser. Winnie fell silent just as Jasper's eyes opened, her brush lingering in her hand.

Jasper perked up, reaching forward to catch the paint palette as it fell from her hands. He quickly set it on the dresser, pressing his palms on her shoulders to draw her out of the shine.

Winnie's eyelids fluttered, gasping for air as she came to. Her focus retrained on the canvas, her 1st grader mind unable to comprehend what she was looking at.

Jasper's eyebrows were knit together, the hues of the paint swarming his thoughts. "Who is that?"

A girl, a gorgeous blue eyed girl holding a loaded gun with half a grin playing on her lips. An angry cut lined her temple, dried blood clutching her smooth skin.

Winnie, half the height she would grow to be, stared oddly at the canvas. "I...I don't know."

But in ten years, standing in that very same stance with the very same smirk, she wouldn't think about that painting. She wouldn't recall that she painted herself ten years into the future.

She wouldn't remember how her six year old self was scared of the mystery woman on the canvas.

The warehouse remained idle, low growls emanating from the beasts in the abandoned building.