A/N: Hi, so this is my first Fanfic story, i really hope that i dont mess this up, i had this idea in my head for a while, and i finally decided to write it out (which is very unusual for me seeing as i generally let the story go in my head). sorry if there are mistakes, i dont live in america so i dont quite know some of the sayings. but i have read enough to get some of it. so if i stuff up anything like that let me know so i dont look dumb. Please use constructive criticism, no flames (i dont think i could handle that). and so onto the story. this chapter is really just a summary, once i upload the next chapter i guess you can skip it, but you might get a better understanding of my characters.
Disclaimer: i dont own anything from supernatural except my OC's, hope you enjoy :)
Prologue: Life of Bree Taylor
Just like almost everybody else in this world, I thought monsters were myths. Made up by Kids with wild imaginations, or even parents to make sure their Kids will behave. Hell, even I remember running into my mother's to get away from the non-existent monster under my bed. Because that's what's normal, what everybody believed in. Even me. Because up until I was 19 I was living the average, apple-pie life. Well as good as I could get to that.
You see, my mother had me when she was young, not long after she turned 16. And of course my father had skipped town before she even knew she was pregnant. She didn't know where he lived or what his phone number was. He was just a fling. But my mother was strong. Despite being shunned by her friends and constantly ridiculed by people who didn't even know her she persevered. And in the end she made it. She even got into college.
Although her love life was hard, with most of her boyfriend's ditching her as soon as they found out she had a kid. The older I got and the more I understood about the reason why these men left, the more I questioned why she even bothered. In the end, she finally found someone who didn't run away.
Mike Bradford was studying to be a teacher just like her, and was in most of her classes. He always told me that he had been nursing a crush for just over a year before he plucked up the courage to finally start talking to her. Soon they became good friends, and it wasn't long before mother joined him in nursing a crush. When she asked him if he wanted to go on a date with her, he almost feinted with joy before saying yes. And so when I was 10, just over 2 years after that first date, My mother, Rachel Taylor, married Mike Bradford.
Mike, in the end, did not become a teacher, but instead found his calling as a head mechanic in his own work shop, which I later found work in. This, in turn, satisfied my love of cars which had begun to develop when I was 8. My fascination of old and new cars made me seem weird to many of the kids at school, and for a while I didn't have friends. but that soon changed when one boy saw me reading a car magazine. Instead of asking why I wasn't playing with dolls like girls were supposed to, he asked me what my favourite car was. It wasn't long before we became best friends, telling each other our favourite bands (mine being ACDC), shows, and cars.
Life was amazing, and it looked like it was going to get even better. My mother was going to have a baby. To say that my family was exited was an understatement, no, we were ecstatic. It was mom and Mikes first child together and I was going to have a baby brother or sister. But something went wrong, and grief was the only thing left in its wake.
Mom was over seven and a half months into her pregnancy when she woke up screaming. When I came into her and Mikes room, she was clutching her stomach yelling that something was wrong. Mike was on the phone trying to tell the phone operator what was happening over Mom's screams. when he saw me there, he told me to pack a bag for mom, which I did so in a panic.
When we arrived at the hospital they did everything they could, but in the end, it wasn't enough. that night, not only did I lose a sibling, but I also lost my mother. For days Mike and I didn't know what to do, we were like zombies. I barely remember going to the funeral, and all I could think about while I was there was whether or not I will be able to remember her at all. Whether I will remember her smile, her laugh, hell even her anger. Sure there are photos and video tapes to help, but it's not the same as having her right there in front of you.
I thought about how much I looked like her, I guess there are some things that I inherited from her, I know we have the same smile, the same shade of dirty blond hair that is wavy enough to tangle. The rest, I guess, comes from my father. I am fairly tall for my age, reaching about 5'8", with eyes so green they would hypnotise almost anyone who looked into them (or so I've been told), and an appetite that could rival a dragons. And yet my body was still slim (thanks to my high metabolism).
So while my hardships placed on me were difficult to manage, they were nothing compared to what I was about to face in the future, something that was bound to happen sooner or later. And the monsters that I didn't believe in or thought were myths, soon showed me that are very real, and should be feared.