Full Summary!: "It's like, no matter how hard I try to fit in at a new school or for a new case, I just can't. Note to self: Stop trying." ~Echo

Echo Winchester is on a hunt at a high school in Albuquerque. She is going in as a senior to try and get some information about the disappearances at the school. When luck turns and she meets a fellow senior named Sam, who shares her last name, things start to change. Echo is no longer trying to fit in and it seems Sam doesn't care to either. Is something going to develop? And whats going to happen when the hunt is over and she has to leave? Story filled with heart-breaking twists, action, romance and tragedy, including some P.O.V. changes.

Author's Note: This story is being co-written...which is a first for me. I'm sorry if there are like changes in the tenses, past tense, future, present...After every

couple of chapters the author will change and back and forth like that. Criticisms are welcome, as long as they are constructive. xbeautifullyflawedx and myself

would like to thank you for reading, and comments/reviews are like candy :D PS About Can't Be Replaced...I promise I will get a new chapter out soon,

everythings been hectic!

~CalicoKahlia

It's like, no matter how hard I try to fit in at a new school or for a new case, I just can't. Note to self: Stop trying. I know I'm different than most others, well, like everyone, but that doesn't mean that I want to be. 'Stop trying' became my mantra as I drove to Albuquerque.

Another lame hunt at another damn high school. I hate being eighteen, even though teenagers dream of that day when they get their 'release'. What a release this is...going from town to town, doing the only thing I know how to do.

The only thing my dad taught me and would do with me. I only knew my dad, and Pastor Jim. When I was younger my father would drop me off there because, and quote, 'You can't go where I'm goin', girl'.

After I spent part of a normal childhood at Jim's, considering my father was around only a
little and I didn't know my mother, my dad gave me the The Truth's Out There speech. The speech I give to those who get a glimpse behind 'weird murders' or 'freak storm'.

When I told my dad I was afraid of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45. That might not be too odd for a hunter's family, but...at the time I was nine.

My dad would never talk about my mom and the last time I had seen him was eleven days ago, over in Flagstaff, Arizona.

Now, I'm feeling the warm breeze on my face and my left arm that's hanging out of my '69 Camaro SS. This car is my life. It's seen my hate, love, smiles, beatings, and everything in between. It's beautiful.

A perfect shade of medium-blue with white racing stripes, hard-top, custom leather interior. I got it from one of Dad's friend whom I never met. Apparently, Dad has some good good friends, and if they had stuff like this and just gave it away, they need to be my best friend.

There have been at least 3 strange disappearances at this school. Strange because they happened at the same time, and at the same place. I'm about thirty miles outside of Albuquerque when I spot a diner and my stomach seems to sense it because it grumbles loud enough to hear over the sound of my My Chemical Romance: The Black Parade cd.

"Mama, we all go to hell." I mumble along with the track as I pull off the road and into the gravel parking lot of the diner. I pull up into a space right outside the back booth's window. I wanna be able to keep an eye on my baby, don't I?

I turned off my car and stepped into the open. The warm breeze that I felt earlier was now gone; replaced by silence and cool air. Night had started to settle and I was taking in the last bit of the sunset when my stomach growled again.

I swear I thought there was a full-grown rottweiler in my being. I pocketed my keys in my leather jacket, tossed my long blonde hair over my shoulder and made my way to the door marked 'Welcome: Open!' I hoped this place had decent food...and a bathroom!

I sat down in the back booth and a woman with greying blonde hair in a bouffant with a pink bow made her way over. "What can I get ya, sugar?" The lady asked me. "Could I have the...just a cheeseburger and fries, and a Mountain Dew. And is there, maybe, a restroom I could use?" I asked politely.

"Sure thing, darling. Sal!" the lady turned and eyed a man behind the bar. "Cheeseburger 'n fries 'n a Dew!" She turned back to me. "Right behind that door. Second door on your right." She smiled at my 'thank you, ma'am', patted my shoulder and retreated back behind the bar.

I got up and walked through the door labeled 'pull' and smiled inwardly. I wonder how many people came in here and pushed it anyway. I walked down the hall and into the second door to be met by a strange smell. Lavender or vanilla.

The room was unnaturally clean. Diner bathroom's were usually all dirty and smelly but this one was well-kept. I used the facilities (peed) and looked into the mirror. I had my long blonde hair straight and parted at the side.

My Avenged Sevenfold band tee perfectly completed my leather jacket, black skinny jeans and red high-top converse. I washed my hands, dried them on a paper towel and walked back into the main part of the diner to find my food ready on my table.

I smiled and sat down. This food was...well, delicious. Not too greasy, not too damn dry and had just the right amount of salt. And the drink, well it seemed like it came straight from the industry and hasn't been in a can or bottle at all.

I relished the meal and then payed the woman at the counter then left to my car.

The moon had set itself high in the sky and the glow it gave my car made me shiver. It looked like a boy version of Christine-that movie and book by Stephen King. Stop trying, baby loves you just the way you are.

I got in and sank into my leather seat. I pulled back out onto the road and started up my tunes. Blue Oyster Cult thrummed its beat to 'Don't Fear The Reaper' and I couldn't help but sing along. This song was so wrong, but I loved it. There are a lot of reasons to fear reapers. The most prominent being: they can fucking kill you.

Another being: they just look creepy as hell, all decked out funeral style, skin looking like it has no pigment and basically dead-looking, and they just follow you around when they're about to take your life.

About a half hour later a 'Welcome to Albuquerque' sign greeted me and I sighed, content that I was about to find a motel and crash. Big day tomorrow, enrolling in the high school that had 'bad news' written all over it. I wished I could stay the the Hard Rock. I've never even seen it but it's hype and fame are etched into Arizona; almost as big as the Grand Canyon. But, I knew I couldn't, too expensive for my fake credit cards.

I see a sign for Super 8 Motel and my mood brightens. I was downtown already and all I saw uptown was Comfort Inn, Days Inn, Marriott, Hilton and all the other high-class hotels. If I had to, I would settle for a hooker-infested motel. And that's just what I did. I pulled in and walked into the main office to book a room.

The desk clerk, a middle-aged man looked up at me and smiled, big, creepy, and chip-toothed. It was disgusting and unsettling. What a pedo-bear.

I smiled out of courtesy and asked, "Can I get a room?"

"King or two queens?" He asked, still having that creepy ass smile plastered on his face. "King." I said, hoping he didn't give me a room with peepholes.

"Room thirty-five, second-landing, sweetheart." He handed me the key and I high-tailed it out of there after quickly paying with one of my many fraudulent credit cards. That perv.

I walked out to my car and grabbed my duffel. I filled it with clothes for the night and some precautionary tools. Salt, the .45 my dad gave me, and my laptop. I started loading in some clothes for tomorrow yet stopped.

Something pulling into the lot had caught my eye.

What a beauty.

'67 Chevy Impala, hard-top, black, sleek and...for a car...sexy.

I stopped admiring it when the driver pulled up beside me, and not into a space. Oh, god, not another pedophile. Can't you just go find someone else to drool over. I was pulled out of my thoughts when the window rolled down.

"Hey, can you tell me where the office is?" a man asked from inside. I took a long look.

He wasn't that much older than me, early twenties maybe and he had laid-back kinda vibe. He was pretty cute, kinda rugged and unkempt but in the hot sorta way. I hid a small smile.

There was someone else in the car, but their face was hidden behind the drivers shoulder. The hidden one was typing furiously on a laptop. I then pointed towards where I made my escape.

"Up front, around that little curve." I couldn't blame him for asking; I spent nearly five minutes looking for it myself.

"Oh, thanks, darling. And by the way, it's not nice to point," He smiled and winked at me.

I 'ughed', rolled my eyes a little, and turned back towards my car. He turned into the spot next to mine, backed out and made his way to the meandering driveway leading towards the front office. I finished packing my stuff and headed up the stairs to the left of my car.

I found room thirty-five relatively easy. I keyed open the door and threw my duffel onto the bed. I shut the door and made my way to a small bathroom inside the room. I looked myself up and down in the mirror before turning on the shower and undressing.

I jumped in, surprised a little at how cold it was; it took a while to heat up. After I scrubbed the days filth away, I toweled dry and threw on a black tank top and Hello-Kitty pajama shorts.

Ugh, researching could wait for tomorrow.

I jumped into the bed which creaked loudly and kicked my bag into the floor.

Damn, I had to make a salt line. I got up, begrudgingly and opened my duffel. I pulled out an old salt tin that my father gave me and salted the door and long window. Then, satisfied with my work, I jumped into bed again, earning another loud creaking.

I got under the scratchy comforter (if you could call it a comforter) and slid down in bed.

I rolled over a couple of times, then sleep decided to claim me.