I slump down on the floor. I hold my head in my hands, my knees to my chests. "No…" I whisper. Then I scream it, "No!"

My entire body quivers at what I am seeing. Not two feet away from me, is my family. My mother, my father, my two younger brothers, all of them. But this is not a normal happy family get together. My mother is ripped in half, her insides spilling onto the floor, my father much the same. My younger brother, Johnny, only twelve, is grotesquely sprawled on the floor, every bone in his body seemingly broken, his joints broken, going all wrong ways. Then there is my youngest brother, Little Tommy, his head two or three feet away from his neck. He was only four.

I inch myself up the wall, gripping at it to steady myself. I move around the room, my back pressed against the wall, trying to get as far away from the corpses, but unable to look away. "Whatever those things where, I will find them. I will kill them." I whispered.

I don't know where I'm going, but there is no way I can stay here. Not in this place, the place where I will never again hear Tommy laugh as father blows on his stomach, or never again smell mother's burnt everything as she attempts at making us breakfast. Long after the blood is cleaned up, it will always be there, the stain in my heart never fully gone.

Entering the kitchen in a fit of hysteria, I look around. I open up the cupboards and get five bottled waters, a loaf of bread, and three cans of soup. I look at the knives for display in their wooden holder, and grab the largest one. I take the sheath from the drawer and place the knife in it. I then put the sheathed knife in my belt loop.

The front door creaks open. I don't see this, but I hear it. Then a voice. "We're too late Sam." The voice is gruff and firm, and then there is a reply. Well, it was a loud outtake of breath. Somewhat of a reply. "Dean wait," I hear a man say, not the one who spoke first. I assume he is Sam. "Didn't they have another girl?" I freeze. My hand hovers over the knife. Everything is silent. "Hey!" The first man yells, Dean. "Anybody else here? Don't worry, you can come out. We won't hurt you."

I don't believe them. I peek around the corner of the kitchen though, into the living room. They see me. "Hey!" Sam yells to me. I push my way through the back kitchen door, running, running, running. It's dark, almost ten at night, so I am running blindly. "Stop!" I hear Dean yell. Arms wrap around me, the force pulling me back. I let out a scream, and grab the knife from my belt. I raise it up, about to hit Sam, the one who caught me, but Dean catches my wrist. "Hey!" He shouts. "We're not the bad guys here!"

An animal like sob escapes my throat. I scream and try to break away, but the man who has a hold of me is strong.

I go limp, tears streaming down my face. "Please…" I whisper. "Please." I say again, barely audible. The man lets go of me. I immediately fall to my knees. "Come on." Dean says. "You need to come with us. We have to get you out of here before the things that killed your family realizes their mistake and comes for you… And most likely kill you." But why would I want to live? I just watched my family be killed. I saw those… those things, that looked like humans, cut and claw at my family, not caring for their shrieks of pain and agony. I can't trust these men.

I swing the knife again, barely hitting the skin on Sam's cheek. He lets out a hiss, more of surprise than pain, and I jump to my feet, running again. I only got a few yards though before I am tackled to the ground. "Sorry 'bout this." Dean says, and punches me in the jaw. Then there is just darkness.