Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

I cling to my books carefully as I walk unnoticed in the hallways. Dark hair, blue eyes, and glasses aren't exactly a formula for instant popularity.

I've been attending Lawrence high school for a total of 3 days and my experience has been less than satisfactory. I guess I should start from the beginning.

I was born on December 17th, 1996 in Shannon, Mississippi. My father was a unemployed abusive alcoholic, and my mother was the secretary at the church.

No surprise, my father left when I was 5.

I encountered bullying for the first time when I was 8, and it never really stopped. I have the classic high school sob story.

I was removed from my past school because I was, in terms of my doctor, "Too unstable to handle the effect my environment has on my depression and suicidal tendencies."

So here I am, 600 miles from my hometown and still nothing has changed.

Doctors have this issue where they look at people with depression like they're fragile and broken.

I'm not fragile or broken, I just don't want to feel.

There was a specific person at my old school that was the root of everything. His name was Raphael and he was king of the mountain.

When I was a freshman I realized I was gay and from there everything just felt wrong.

Growing up in a southern town with a religious family made coming out almost impossible.

My mother was the other problem I faced. She named me after an angel, and I was far from what she had hoped.

My brother Gabriel was my only hope but even he couldn't understand. They all looked at me like I was some lost little boy.

My grades started slipping around then and that's when I first discovered the beauty in a blade. The way blood glossed on the edge after I cut was almost magical.

I would cut and everything would seem to loose its gravity. I could dream and then the world would be alright.

Lawrence was a tactical move. My mother loved me enough to try to 'do what's best for me' yet not enough to actually ask me how I felt.
The only one who asked was Meg. Meg had been my only friend all my life.

She was there for me when my dad left, she was there for me when I came out, and she was there for me when she first noticed my scars.

I hid them well. I became infamous for my 'gay boy bracelets'. Oh how cruel and inventive they could be.

It all came to a height when this boy Balthazar asked me on a date my junior year. I thought he was sweet and I decided to take a chance on him.

I got dressed after hours of Meg telling me I needed a new wardrobe and felt like maybe everything was starting to get better.

He was kind and cute and practically everything I loved in a man. He told me to wait for him outside this club for teens, and I did.

For 2 hours. I waited alone and then finally, he came.

He and 7 of his friends, specifically Raphael. They beat me, within an inch of my life and in those hours before someone found me, I screamed for them to finish the job.

Needless to say, I never went back. When I got admitted into the hospital, they noticed the deep scars on my thighs and lighter ones on my wrists.

They did a full body search and found all my little places, the balls of my feet, my ankles, all over my arms, my stomach.

There was a never ending parade of people after that, all asking the same mind numbing question, "Am I okay?"

The daze wore off after a few weeks and my life was less populated. Meg came everyday.

She informed me that Balthazar, Raphael and their friends had gotten an alibi for the time of the attack and weren't being held. That was just code for I was gay and they were on the football team, so who gives a fuck if they beat me almost to death.

That's why we had to get out of that backwards town. My eldest brother Michael called a buddy of his named John and we arranged to move to Lawrence where we would live next to John and his two sons Sam and Dean.

Dean was my age and Sam was 3 years younger. So we packed up and here we are, or rather here I am.

This place is driving me crazy. The house is pretty much safety wrapped with anything remotely sharp locked away.

My medications make me sleepy so school is hard. Then again it's only my 3rd day, I could always wish for a miracle. I guess you're caught up now. This is my life. These are my stories.

November 23, 2013 Day 1:

Human life is a combination of tragedy and comedy. The shapes and designs that surround us are the music accompanying this tragedy and this comedy.
-Alvar Aalto

To stray far from those woe is me bullshit stories, I'm not going to lie. This diary was proposed by my therapist. She said to write my life like someone else was reading it. So let's start off by not lying to each other.

I'm smart, but not school savvy. I know things and I absorb nearly everything unless I have to work for it. I always had a strong love of history, especially World War II. My favorite class I have is the only good thing about this stupid town.

Holocaust and Genocide with Ms. Schwartz was a class in which I had the unfortunate displeasure of being joined by Dean Winchester. That boy was a failure is a pretty package.

He was smart but acted like he wasn't. His varsity jacket showed that he was a wrestler, and a good one. He was crude, obnoxious, and greatly facetious. All in all, I was madly in love.

I heard rumors that his last relationship had ended because he came out, but the playboy exterior made that hard to believe. His one charming quality was his love for Sammy.

Sammy was a short kid who wasn't quite thin, but wasn't quite chubby either. He loved reading, a quality he and I did in fact share.

As a sophomore, Sam had his life really together. He was the top in his class, had a beautiful girlfriend, and had his future set. Studying to be a lawyer was his main purpose.

The bell rang and class began and regretfully I took my seat next to Dean. He turned, smiled, and winked and I swear I began hyperventilating. He reminded me of Balthazar a bit, well the parts of Balthazar I loved.

His green eyes were so goddamn green, like greener than trees in the summertime. You know the pre-sex eye analysis in some fanfictions? Yeah that kind of green.

He was almost inhumanly beautiful, that inconceivable bastard. It seemed to me like he was a punishment sent from the higher power my mother loved so dearly. He was a slap in the face.

'I wish you were here :('

I texted Meg, frowning as I got ready for class. Doodling was perhaps one of my worst habits and a strong contributor to my low grades.

We were learning about the Wannsee Conference by watching a movie. We had started it last class, and we had a worksheet to fill out. My paper was covered with doodles.

Naturally the boy wonder (as I shall now refer to him for national security purposes), had none of the answers from last class. That's because he was sleeping soundly last class.

"Hey Cassie, so how're you liking Lawrence?"

I was going to respond with my rather well developed sarcasm, but sadly his cocky grin melted my brain functions.

Without responding, I just handed him my paper to copy. He smiled and thanked me, and I definitely blushed.

When he was done, he handed it back and we continued the movie. I looked at the paper and saw a note from him. It read 'Nice drawings!'

I looked at it with a bittersweet smile. The best part about my depression is the completely unpredictable and random times it chooses to attack, say for example, the middle of a class when the sharpest thing I can get my hands on is my wit.

During these attacks, I need to feel relief and so I've been improvising. It's never easy when you part with an addiction, but this is something so deep rooted I don't think they can fix it.

It's like having an itch inside of your brain that you need to scratch. I can't function when it happens, I just close my eyes tight and breathe.

I promised Meg I would get better, so I've been trying. It felt like hours but it was really only a few minutes. When the thought could at least be overshadowed by intense focus on the movie, I smiled. I still felt the need to cut, but then again, I always do.

Class passed quickly after my little attack, and before I knew it the bell rung releasing me from my prison.

"Hey Cas, I owe you one for those answers, how about I drive you home today?"

Normally I would've turned him down, but I looked out the window and saw it was still raining. I stuffed my books clumsily into my bag and smiled.

"Yeah that'd be great Dean."

He smiled in his mischievous way and led me to his car. Another plus about him, he's a pretty boy with even prettier wheels.

His dad being a mechanic and all, he drove a 1967 Chevrolet Impala which still purred like a newborn kitten.

"Cas this is baby, baby this is Cas." He said, introducing me to his car. Sam was waiting on the sidewalk next to the car.

"Uhh... Hey Sammy."

"Hey Cas. Joining us on the ride home today?"

"Yeah, not a big fan of rain."

"Understandable."

After that, the awkward silence set in. Dean did his best to remedy the silence, but there's only so much classic rock can do. Besides if you're talking Rock, I'm more of an Elvis person.

The ride from school to home was a little over 5 minutes, and after that awkward car ride I was almost glad to be home. Then again, I did say almost.

I waved goodbye and said thank you, then I made my way inside. The house was pristine as always with my mother flitting around and singing.

On the outside, she was the perfect mother, beautiful, organized, loving, and responsible. On the inside, she was a perfectionist dealing with an imperfect life; mine.

She frowned when she saw I was home.

"Go do your homework."

"Yes ma'am."

"And tell your brother to turn his music down."

"Yes ma'am."

"Stop calling me ma'am Castiel. I am your mother not your warden."

Under my breath I whispered, "Are you sure?"

She glared at me as if even though she didn't hear me she knew what I said.

"All of this is your fault. I picked up my life for you. I quit my job and moved our family here to try and give you a chance to get better. So be grateful you brat."

I shrugged her off and ran upstairs, knocking on my brother Luke's door. Luke was the problem child in the family, well before me.

"Hey Luke, Mom says to turn the music down." A mound of sheets began to move and out came Luke.

He was tall, blonde, rugged, and scowling at me. His hair was cut short, a little longer than a buzz.

"Hey there gay boy, how about you tell Naomi to shut the fuck up and go fuck herself. I'm relaxing up here."

He looked at me and I could tell he wasn't kidding about that. He hated Mom and how she had reacted when dad left.

Michael practically raised him and since he got shipped of to some army base in the Middle East, Luke has been cracking down on being as rebellious as possible.

Luke was 3 years older than me and had dropped out of college when he was 19. Ever since he's been living with us and guilting mom into letting him stay.

By the heavy scent of smoke I could guess he was high right about now, but then again since Michael left I haven't seen him down.

I closed the door and walked into my room. I blankly wondered over to my dresser and picked up a brass photo frame.

Inside of that frame were 2 photos; Michael and my father. They say my father used to be a great man, but after he lost his job his world just shattered.

His name was Chuck and he had left to follow his dream of being a writer.

Michael was deployed about 2 weeks after my incident. Him leaving just made everything worse.

Gabe tried to fill the hole Michael left, but it was a lot for him. At 23, Gabe is the next oldest after Michael. He always tries to lighten my mood with his dumb humor and candy.

Sitting on my bed, I felt my phone vibrate and looked to see who it was.

'Watcha want for dinner short stack?'

I smiled and replied,

'Nice one Gabe, you make that one up all on your own? How about Chinese?'

I saw a little letter symbol meaning I had gotten another text. I couldn't see my face, but my smile must've been really stupid looking.

'I miss you too Clarence. Skype?'

Nearly running, I got my laptop from Gabriel's room. He never puts it back when he's done.

I logged onto Skype and anxiously bounced up and down waiting for Skype to open up. The screen flickered to life and suddenly Meg was with me.

"Hey Clarence, how's Larry?"

"It's good here." I lied, her voice soothing me.

"I miss you curly, when are we getting the 2 stooges back together?"

"I don't know Mo, there's always college. Moving is helping, I think it's helped at least the slightest bit."

"Well as long as you're getting better. How can I be a stooge without my other half?"

"You do know there were 3 stooges right?"

"Shut up Clarence." We laughed and for a moment the world was normal.

"Lawrence is no fun without you."

"Persuade me to come visit. Any cute guys?"

I rolled my eyes at her and she faked insult.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, how's the booty over there? I ain't coming if there is not at least one perfect 10."

"Well there is this one guy..." I trailed off, her squeal drowning me out.

"Whats his name, how did you meet him, do I need to buy you some protection?"

"His names Dean, he lives next door, and GOD NO YOU FOUL MINDED CRETIN!"

She laughed and asked for more detail.

"He's about 6'3", blonde, muscular, and handsome. Really handsome. Like better than Josh Hutcherson handsome."

She gasped, "You bite your tongue you heretic." She was a huge hunger games fan and needless to say she worshipped Josh.

"I swear to our lord Hiddleston that he is that cute."

"What's his last name? I'm looking him up on Facebook."

"Winchester. Dean Winchester."

Furious typing followed, as Meg searched for him.

"Oh my god. He is gorgeous. And his page says he's looking for a man."

"What?!"

"Yup Dean Winchester is interested in men."

I almost screeched when she told me. I had heard rumors but I had never thought they were true. "Oh my god!"

"Cassie, you have got to ask him out."

I looked at her and frowned. "You know very well that guys like him don't go for guys like me. And when they do..." I trailed off not needing to finish.

I was flashing back to Balthazar and she could see the hurt on my face.

"Cas, I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you. I know Balthazar was a bad experience, but not all guys are like him. In fact I'm pretty sure no one can be that huge of a douche. Just at least give yourself a chance to like him."

I considered, but I knew the truth. I was ugly and no golden boy was gonna ask me out. "I'll think about it."

"Okay Cas, but just remember what I told you before you left. Don't let what happened with Balthazar ruin your future chances. Open up a bit."

"Yes yes I know, I'm a beautiful butterfly." She looked concerned but found an uneasy smile. "Cas you know if anything is going on, you tell me. I'll set my wrath on your foes like a demon from the depths of Hell."

He smiled. Her wrath was something no one should ever encounter, nor even his worst enemies.

"Listen boo, I have to go do my homework, but I'll text you later." I nodded, yawning.

I waved goodbye and closed it down. I had homework to do too, but screw consciousness that's what I say. About 4 hours later, I was woken by a gentle hand on my arm.

"Hey short stack, I got you your favorites." I smiled up at Gabe as he handed me a plate and my favorite pair of chopsticks.

"How was work?" I asked, a guilty feeling in my stomach. He had quit his job too and moved here with us. He had worked at a salvage yard with his friend Bobby in Sioux Falls, but when he heard what happened with me he dropped everything to come.

"Same old same old. Work is boring, how was school?" He seemed genuinely curious so I told him.

"Same old same old. School is boring." He frowned and took a bite from his steamed dumpling. Sauce poured down the sides of his mouth and we both laughed.

"You got a little something there." I teased, handing him a tissue from the box on my dresser.

"Yeah yeah you brat." He said, jokingly. Of all my siblings, I loved Gabe the most. He took care of me, and not just in the way Michael did.

"Thanks Gabe." I stated, after finishing my chicken and broccoli.

"Don't mention it bro."

"I mean for everything."

"I'm your brother, it's my job to look out for you." That statement was accompanied by a noogie and a hug.

"I'll always be here to take care of you."

"I know."

I broke the hug when he yawned, and sent him off to bed. After throwing away the trash, I tucked myself back into bed. Sleep was easy, and sleep helped.

A new story that is very emotional to me. Read and review.