I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I do however own my original character of which there are a few. This is the story of a young girl who after attempting suicide is brought to a different universe. The world of Supernatural. Why she's there or how she isn't dead she doesn't know. But her life is about to get a whole lot more supernatural then she ever imagined! (Warning: Supernatural characters only appear in chapter 2. Chapter one is mostly just background about the main character. Enjoy!)
The cold of the hardwood floor stung at my feet as I ran down the stairs with tears filling my eyes. Me and my mother had never had a very good relationship but since my little brother started his "teenage rebellion phase", she seemed to scream at me even more than usual. It was as if every little thing I did wrong was the end of the world and even if my little brother did something wrong she would somehow find a way to pin it on me and use it as just another excuse to yell at me. I threw myself on my bed and looked up at the photo on the wall. A young man with reddish brown hair and a cute yet dorky smile looked down at me and just the thought of him made the tears seem to slowly fade away.
"Annie why'd you have to leave me here all alone? I don't know how much longer I can handle this stupid world without you." The tears began to well in my eyes as I looked at the photo and as they fell I smiled remembering him and all the times he had talked me off the ledge. Anthony hadn't been perfect, seeing as how no person can be, but to me he was the very definition of perfection. I stared at the photo and I could almost hear his voice in my ear whispering "its ok sweetie, I love you, and I know you can make it through this." Tears fell and began to soak into the pillow I was grasping with both arms. I laid there for what seemed like hours simply weeping until I hazily drifted off to sleep. The next day I was woken by the sound of my mother screaming upstairs. I lifted my upper body and looked at the clock on my desk which sat at the foot of my bed.
"Dude, its 6am what the hell is she yelling about this early in the morning?" I yawned as I lazily lifted my hands and rubbed at my eyes. I swung my legs off the bed and propelled myself up almost falling over the big white dog who was sleeping on the floor.
"That's strange, why are you on the floor Rox?" The boxer lifted her head and looked at me completely uninterested and half asleep, I leaned over and patted the bed with one hand, Roxy slowly stood up, jumped on the bed, and within seconds was curled up and soundly sleeping as I had found her on the floor.
"Silly mutt." I said petting her on the head before making my way upstairs to see what all the commotion was about. I reached the top of the stairs and walked into the kitchen to the sound of breaking glass.
"What's going on?" I asked turning the corner and walking through the doorway.
"You damn ungrateful..!" She screamed cutting herself off to throw another dish into the sink causing it to shatter violently. I looked at her slightly, frightened, but more confused.
"What?" She looked at me and the look on her face made me realize I should have never opened my mouth.
"I work my ass off every day for you damn kids! I do everything for you and this is what I get hunh?! You can't even do the fucking dishes when I ask you to!?" She threw open the dishwasher so hard I was sure the door would break off.
"The fucking dishwasher wasn't even put through! It's one fucking button! Why can't you do anything right!? Jesus Christ! Now I'm gonna be late for work because you kids are so damn lazy and ungrateful!" She slammed the dishwasher closed and stomped out of the kitchen grabbing her bags and slamming the front door as she left for work. I stood there in silence staring at the sink full of broken glass. I walked over slowly, quietly, and began to pick the glass out of the sink and carry it over to the garbage can. As I was forming a pile of glass in my hand I noticed tears falling silently from my eyes and my vision began to blur.
"I know I'm a useless and unwanted daughter but do you really need to remind me every single day?" I closed my hand around the shards of dirty broken glass and blood began to drip slowly into the sink. I looked down at the fuzzy image of my bloody hand and dropped the glass instantly. I was trying so hard to get better. So damn hard but she just made it so much more difficult for me to get better. I dropped to my knees and looked up at the ceiling.
"Annie...please...I can't do this anymore. I know that I told you I'd live on for the both of us but it's just so hard." I looked at the deep gash in my hand and as I stared at it I heard a door open at the end of the hall. I quickly wiped away my tears, rose to my feet, and shoved my cut hand into the pocket of my pajama pants as my little brother walked into the kitchen poking his head around the corner cautiously.
"Patrick its ok, she's gone." He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge grabbing out the milk for his morning cereal.
"Did you hear?" He shook his head
"Not really, I heard her yelling but I didn't hear what about." I looked at him and rolled my eyes.
"Patrick, last night was your night to do the dishes and you left them there again. You need to stop this because when you don't do your work I'm the one who gets yelled at." He looked at me and frowned.
"Sorry." He walked across the kitchen to get his cereal but stopped at the sink looking in at the broken glass and splatters of blood.
"Did she attack you or something?" He asked with worry seeping into his voice.
"No bud it's ok. She was just in a bad mood from being late for work and she threw some plates in the sink. I just cut my hand a little picking up the glass but I'm totally fine." He nodded his head and after preparing it took his cereal into his room to eat. It was a Sunday morning and we were the only ones home so I left him be as I cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. After throwing out all the broken glass and doing up all the dishes I walked into the bathroom and started running a hot shower. I quickly undressed and stood in the shower letting the water run over my whole body. I looked down at myself and it made me sad. I looked at the little purple scars on my arms and legs and the new cut on my hand.
"It had to be my right hand didn't it? Man this is gunna be a bitch to heal." I sighed heavily and lowered myself to sit letting the water run over my head. The pain of getting cuts never bothered me but the healing was never something I really enjoyed. Now let me tell you not once have I ever lifted a razor to my skin- but with that said there are an infinite amount of other ways to hurt yourself that are way easier to make excuses for and they all work the same. After 10 minutes of sitting in the hot water I lifted myself to my feet, turned the shower off and walked downstairs gripping my towel and shivering in the cold. Winter is always bad but Canadian winter is the worst. The cold sticks to you like chewing gum in a toddler's hair and it's never comfortable to shiver until it hurts. I pulled on an old pair of ripped skinny jeans and a baggy sweat shirt that had my university logo on it. I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. The left side of my hair was cut super short and it was a light brown color and the right side was longer about shoulder length and died green, blue, purple, pink, and red, in that order circling my head until it hit the short brown hair and cut off. All of it was thick with water and waved in every direction. I blow-dried and straightened it and after that I put on my makeup and looked back into the mirror staring at myself. I had decided that today would be the day. Today was the day that I joined Anthony. I looked at the photo on the wall and I whispered a soft "I'm sorry." Before kissing Roxy on the head and walking back up the stairs. I walked over to my little brother's room and knocked on the door.
"What?"
"Can I come in?" I heard a sigh and a minute later Patrick opened the door and poked his head out of the door.
"What do you want?" The words caught in my throat as I fought back tears. Since Anthony had passed a big reason why I stayed was to look after my little brother and although he was bratty and super ungrateful about everything I still felt like it was my job to look after him.
"I'm leaving..." I chocked the words out and he cocked an eyebrow at me.
"Ok?...bye." He went to close the door but I caught it with my hand and kept it from closing. He looked down at my hand then back at me.
"You want something else?" He said his voice laced with curiosity but more than that dripping with pure annoyance.
"Umm no just...wanted to tell you that I love you." He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow once again.
"Umm...ok...weirdo. Love you too. See you later." He said closing his door and going back to whatever game I had obviously interrupted. I fought back the tears as I walked out the front door and ran down the road to the path that led to the bridge. I couldn't count how many times I had walked this path with friends and family alike. When I was a kid my whole family use to walk our dogs down on this path and laugh and play around. Those were good times but it hadn't been like that in over 10 years. My father pretty much only worked and slept these days and my mom, well as I got older I think she almost started to hate me more and more. Eventually I had started smoking pot with my friends and every memory I had of this path from the last 5 years was us just walking down here to smoke up. Anthony always hated the thought of me doing drugs so to please him most of the time I would just pretend that I didn't, but I think he still knew. I reached into the pocked of my jeans and pulled out a thin joint putting one end to my lips and lighting the other end with a small blue lighter that had the name "Blaze" written on it with black sharpie. I looked at the writing and laughed thinking about the day I got really stoned and took pity on my poor nameless lighter deciding it was only right to give him a proper name of his own, and what name is more fitting for a lighter than Blaze right?
I walked the path slowly puffing away at the joint as I got closer and closer to the bridge. It was decently warm for a winter day but the cold still nipped at the glass earrings I was wearing as well as every piece of metal I had sticking out of my face. Although I'm terrified of needles I never really felt comfortable in my own skin so at an early age I discovered that getting piercings and tattoos gave me that tiniest bit of love for at least little parts of myself. My eye brow, septum, and left nostril were each stinging slightly from the cold metal but it didn't bother me too much since I was pretty use to it by now. I reached the bridge and walked about half way across before stopping and leaning over the side looking at the frozen mud water beneath me. I had heard stories of people dying in this river, most of them were accidents, you know how it is. Stupid kids decide to play just a little too close to the thick sticky mud and they can't get back out. If you get stuck in this river you're as good as gone. I pull my phone out from my pocket and look at the picture of Anthony smiling up at me from my screen. I bring the phone up to my lips and kiss his picture.
"I'm coming old man." Instead of calling each other baby or some other pet names me and Anthony use to have this ongoing joke where I would call him old man and he would always call me his little kid. These were the good memories of our time together and it made me smile looking up at the sky. I placed the phone down on the ground after sending out a group message to a bunch of my friends that read simply "I love you all, and I always will. Thank you for making my life as good as it could be. 3". I grabbed ahold of the short brick barrier between the edge of the bridge and the deep drop into the river slowly hoisting myself up until I was sitting on it. I looked up at the sky and smiled before closing my eyes focusing solely on the image of Anthony before allowing myself to fall forward and soar through the air to meet him. As soon as I was falling through the open air I had to put a lot of effort into keeping my eyes closed as the wind knocked the air out of my lungs. I put my arms out and when I expected to hit the water and be done with this life I instead found myself stumbling into a strange room that I'd never been in before. My eyes shot open and in front of me stood three men who looked just as shocked as I did.