Fallen Fates
An old fanfiction of mine that has undergone major changes. It's better than the original. Trust me.
I watch them talk like teenagers, staring with frustration. Can't they shut up? How can we watch our favourite TV show if they're talking and laughing the whole time? They probably don't have a clue what's going on! I barely have an idea of what's going on. I'm probably going to have to watch the episode again.
I manage to block them out while Sam and Dean Winchester worry about their mother. She's totally hunting with Arthur Ketch and hasn't yet told them. Those Men of Letters can't be trusted. To them, if it's a monster, it has to die. The Winchester way is much better. That Mick guy isn't so bad, at least he tries to be nice.
Between the Men of Letters, my cousin and her friend, I'm bound to blow a gasket with all my frustration and kill someone. Supernatural is supposed to be my happy time!
The screens cuts to a commercial and I glare at the two of them. I hate watching my favourite show with them, but the rent of our apartment is too expensive for just one person with our minimum wage jobs.
Talk about bullshit.
I'd watch Supernatural on my laptop, but I'd have to wait a day and my computer would buffer. Not really the best option. So I suck it up and put up with them. I'm starting to wonder if it's worth it.
But this time I'm ready to punch them in the face.
When my cousin and I decided to rent an apartment together, it was just to be close to work, easier on our bank accounts. Then her friend moves in and they become pains in my ass. I'm like the only grownup in the damn apartment. I continuously have to clean up after them! They're like teenagers!
I get up to get myself a can of 7Up. Right now would be a good time for a glass of wine, but with those two, they'd drink it all. And then I'd need another glass just to deal with that problem. The point is, I might become an alcoholic with these two if I were to have a glass of wine.
I grab a can from the fridge and pop it open, taking a chug.
As I make my way back, I hear them talking softly, like I'm not supposed to hear. So I stop and listen. Curiosity, I guess.
"I got the candles." Lindsey says.
"Good. We could start tonight. There's a New Moon." Says my cousin, Amelia.
Fuck. What the Hell are they planning? You know, I regret letting those two find out that I was studying Wicca. While I take it seriously, those two think Wicca is fun and magic, like Charmed can be done in real life. What a joke.
This is exactly what I mean by referring to them as teenagers. They dabble with things. Next it'll be ouija boards and summonings. Oh joy, our apartment will soon be the next place for Zak Bagans to investigate.
I walk in just as Supernatural returns and they fall silent as to watch, but they start talking again, making me wish I could turn 7Up into fucking wine. I could use that shit.
I crawl into bed and lay my head on my pillow, letting my eyes close. I wish my life was a little more like Supernatural, but then again, maybe I just wish for a better job and a better apartment. That way, I won't die. Every woman on Supernatural dies eventually. Meg was the only one that made it so long. And Mary, well, despite coming back from the dead, might very well go back at the end of season twelve or maybe in season thirteen.
There has to be a season thirteen. It would be the best. Supernatural. Thirteen. Perfect.
I fall asleep, drifting into the dark abyss of slumber that takes me to dreamland, where I hope to have great vivid dreams. Much like the one I had of Tom Ellis as Lucifer where we had sex and later I visited him with our daughter. He was a great Dad. Damn that was sexy, although having a dream of having sex with Lucifer should alarm me.
But it's Tom Ellis, so I'm not worried. That has to be the sexiest Lucifer I have ever seen.
Until I start thinking of Kelly Kline, pregnant with Lucifer's kid.
Son of a bitch, get a grip, Celeste! It's a fucking TV show and you have nothing to worry about. It was a fucking dream! Man, I'm losing my mind. If that's true, going insane better be more fun less paranoia.
I wake up from my sleep, groggy, feeling as if something tugged me out of my abyss. I open my eyes and see the dark of my room, but I sense something isn't right. It's causing me to feel anxious and I want to move, but then everything spins and blurs, like I'm under a bad dizzy spell. I can only imagine this is what it's like to be stuck in a car that's twisted out of control and is rolling.
Suddenly, I drop on something hard, hitting my head, rocking my head with pain. I feel such anxiety wash over me that I'm so overwhelmed. I snap my eyes open and feel a heavy pressure on me, feel it slipping into me, knocking me back against the hard floor. At that moment, I return to my dark abyss, but it's not so much sleep as it is a lack of consciousness.