Author's Note: This may seem a little rushed, try to follow along, I swear, it will get better. Sam and Dean make their first appearance in Chapter 3. Keep reading. c:

"Darian! Get down here, you need to eat your dinner!"

I heaved a deep sigh, reaching up and shutting my computer, which was perched precariously on my thighs, knees bent upward beneath the blanket to hold it in place. That was my mom. She's been there for me and my little brother ever since my father overdosed on drugs, and ditched us to pursue his life as a dead beat asshole. I haven't talked to him since I was 13. I'm 16 now, female, in case you were confused by my name. I get teased a lot for it.

My slender fingers eased through the dark tresses of my brown hair, shaking them out as I got to my feet. My life has never been exactly easy. No sir. Especially when you have to keep a big secret from your family. Sucks. Really, it does. I eased out of my bedroom, my Peter Pan t-shirt hanging loosely off of my chest, and ended just above my waist line. It was too small to wear out in public, so I only wore it to bed, and around the house. The floorboards were cold against my bare feet as I padded down the hall from my room, greeted by my brother. Gabriel was only 11. Going to be 12, in June, but he looks younger than he is. His big mouth was stretched into a beaming grin, bleach blond hair hanging too low across his forehead. He needed to get it cut soon.. His small arms leaned down, plucking up one of our cats, Chiana, from the carpet in his bedroom, ignoring her yowl of protest. We had two cats. Chriton, and the little lady, Chiana. Both named after our favorite characters in a show called Farscape. Ever heard of it? Nope. Thought not.

"What do you think we're gonna eat?"

He asked brightly as he linked his arm with mine, pressing his rosy cheek against my curved side. Uh, something else you need to know about me, for future reference. I don't have the best self confidence in the world. In fact, I really don't think I'm very pretty at all. Though people have tried to prove me wrong on countless occasions. My blue eyes, similar to the color of the sea, flickered down to look at him, smiling faintly.

"No idea. I'm probably not going to eat too much. I need to watch my weight-"

"Darian."

Gabriel groaned, and heaved a heavy sigh, pressing his face further into my waist. I could feel his childish scowl crease the fabric of my shirt.

"You're beautiful. You should see yourself."

I glanced away, shrugging my shoulders, but not allowing myself to retort his sweet comment with a bitter response of my own. Together, we padded down the stairs, and into the kitchen. My mother stroked my hair, like she was proud I managed to get up out of bed. It wasn't too much of a struggle, but I could see worry lines on the furrow of her forehead. She worried about me. About my health, my sanity.

We ate, a light supper of pizza and salad, then I returned to bed. I was feeling very.. drawn. For the last few weeks. I could tell you why.. but I don't think I should. Nearly as soon as my head hit the pillow.. I was out. Like a light.

"Shut up!"

My eyes opened a heavy crack, slender fingers curling around the deep groves in my cool pillow case, before glancing up at my alarm clock. 2:34 AM. Shit. Who'd be awake at this time? Even my mom and her husband John would be asleep by now.. I slowly sat up, my dark hair lolling over my shoulder, and slipping down over my chest. There was.. an eerie silence now. What had woken me up? I swung my long legs out over the edge of the bed, feeling the chilly air hot my sleep-warm skin. Cringing, I eased on a pair of socks, followed my sweat pants, fixing my shirt. I might as well get a glass of water.. it would help me get back to sleep. Quietly, feet daintily touching the ground in hopes to make little noise, I slipped out into the hall. My brother's door was ajar, but the light was off. He must've fallen asleep. I softly crept over, grasping the door handle and easing it closed with a quiet chuckle.

Once I got past there, I walked normally, feeling the floor creak under my weight, no doubt rustling my parent's dreams. Their door was closed too, light off. Hm. And, what else was odd, was the fact that.. I couldn't even see my cats. They weren't meowing or rubbing against my calves as I walked by. Even they didn't sleep so soundly? The stairs down toward the living room and kitchen were just as cold as the floor upstairs, but.. as soon as I rounded the corner, my hand grasped onto the banister on the wall, steadying myself as my knees threatened to buckle.