Helloooooo. I hope you are having a great holiday so far! I got seasons one and four of supernatural for christmas. Yay!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :)

Rhiannon sat in her dorm room, trying to study for her very last theory test whilst listening to one of her favorite records: Fleetwood Mac's, Rumors. The relation of her name to one of the bands most well known songs was not a coincidence. Her parents had met at a Fleetwood Mac concert back in '76. She always found it funny how the origin of her name became one of her favorite musical acts of all time.

She hummed along to the music as she went over her theory papers. This was her final semester at Berklee College of Music. She was in the five year duel program, majoring in two areas of study: performance and music education. It had been the best five years of her life, being around people that finally understood her and what she was all about. Her passion was music. She lived and breathed it. If she could learn every instrument from every side of the globe, she would. The one thing she hated, though, was theory. She shook with disgust just thinking the word. The fact that it was all coming to an end excited her but depressed her all the same.

Her black ballpoint pen tapped to a beat of its own on her notebook. She always used black pens. They were just much more applicable than blue ones, plus, she thought they were prettier. She started singing. "Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow. Don't stop, it'll soon be here." She stood up on her bed and placed her pen to her pink lips. "It'll be better than before. Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone!" Her long, curly, brown hair bounced around her head as she jumped up and down on the worn mattress.

Rhiannon grinned and spun in circles. Things were going great. She was so excited to get her life started with school years behind her. She was 23. She was ready to apply her knowledge to the real world. She was ready for the change.

The last time she felt this elated was the day she got her acceptance letter to Berklee. She had grown up in a one horse town; same stuff, different day. Every morning she would wake up, go to school, come home, get her homework done, and then go to her job at the local mechanic.

The mechanic just so happened to be her Father, Thomas. He was a very tall, very menacing looking man. But if you knew him, he was the sweetest guy in the world, and very protective of his children. He had thick brown hair that all of the other Father's were jealous of. It had specks of grey in it now, a few laugh lines were on his face. Her Mother though, Claire, was as beautiful as Aphrodite herself. She had the same hair as Rhiannon, brown and curly. But her eyes were bright blue. Rhiannon's were hazel, like her Father's. Each of them shared the same porcelain skin, though, with freckles spread across their noses. Her Mom worked at the local pre-school in town. Her Mom had a way with kids. She was always cheerful and looked on the bright side of just about everything. She was somebody Rhiannon strived to model herself after, someone of whom she looked up to.

Rhiannon also had a brother, Jason. He was a few years older than her. He left town the day he had turned eighteen. Rhiannon had seen him a few times on Christmas, and had gotten a few postcards from him on her birthday, but he never showed his face in their home. She had always admired her brother, but it's hard to admire someone when they aren't there to admire. The biggest thing she admired was his ability to escape the place she dreaded. All of the teenagers dreaded it. Jason and Rhiannon had a common goal: freedom. They had each obtained it.

Rhiannon's phone started ringing. She jumped off of her bed, out of breath, and lowered the volume of the music. She read the caller ID with a smile.

"Hey, Dad!" She said cheerfully. "I was just thinking about you!" The other end was quiet. She put her finger in her ear to hear him more clearly. "Dad?" She repeated.

Her Dad sniffed. "Rhiannon, I have some bad news." His tone scared her. She stopped the music and sat down on her bed.

"What's wrong, Dad?" She pulled a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. He cleared his throat and then let out a long sigh.

"I...I don't know how to say this, sweetheart," he got chocked up.

"Dad," Rhiannon said, leery of what he was trying to get across to her. "Just tell me… please. You're draggin' this out too long here." She tried to lighten the mood, but no dice.

He let out a loud sob. "You're Mother died, Rhiannon."

Her jaw dropped in shock. "What?" She asked in disbelief. Her eyes burned with ready tears. "W-What do you mean?" Her lip quivered.

"I mean, she died, Rhiannon." She heard him crying. "I.. I found her a few hours ago."

"…Found her?" Her body began to shake.

"She killed herself." He didn't try to hide his sobbing. She could tell that he was shaking uncontrollably just like her. Rhiannon didn't know what to say. She couldn't speak. Her throat closed up. Bile crept up from her stomach, making her nauseous. She started to get dizzy.

"I'm gonna need you to come back home," he told her. "Just until things get sorted out, and for…. For the funeral."

She nodded even though he couldn't see.

"Alright, Rhiannon?" He asked.

"Y-yeah."

"I love you." He cried.

"Yeah." She closed her phone and pulled her knees to her chest, letting out the sobs that had welled up inside of her.

Don't you look back.Don't you look back.