Prologue to "Saving"
Prologue
"Mum? Daddy? I'm home! Are y'all here?" I yelled into the house, my soft southern accent touching the words, as much as I tried to hide it.
"Yeah, honey, we're in the kitchen. Give us a minute, though, we need to clean up."
"Clean up? Clean what up?" I said, entering the kitchen. And then I saw it. Rather, then I saw him. His face was bloody, and arms cut up.
I screamed, and my parents looked at me, smiling sickly.
"Mum, what happened? Dad?" I frantically searched their faces, trying to find something other than amusement in their eyes. Well, what was supposed to be their eyes. Now, there was nothing other than black globes.
"The boy was prying. We couldn't have him find out our secret….. just as you weren't supposed to." Dad- was he my dad- replied. Suddenly, he held a knife. Time to go, Ariella. Time to die." He said, grinning.
I screamed, grabbing an iron pan and banging it over his head. Instantly he was knocked out. The woman- I refuse to call her my mother- looked at me, dangerously.
"Let go of the pan, Ariella. You'll only hurt yourself." She said, raising her hands. I rushed at her, swinging the pan, and knocked her out also.
My sister, Emilia, walked through the front door, having just driven back from Orlando.
My sister looked at me, wide-eyed, trying to comprehend what happened. After a few moments, she gave up, asking, "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?"
I pondered over it for a bit, wondering if I should tell her what really happened. I decided against it. "A thief broke in, and knocked mum and dad out. He was looking for a place to find that boy." I said, nodding to the boy, who had died. "I tried to keep him away from me, so I started swinging the pan. He ran away a couple minutes before you walked in."
She looked scared, and then went over to our parents. After checking their pulses, she got up, white-faced. "Ariella….. they… they've died. That thief killed them."
"Looks like we're on our own now."
And then I woke up to the real world, depressed as you could ever be. Walking to the bathroom, I undressed with shaking hands. Gripping the razor tight, you added four more scars to your body.
Four, one for each of your parents, one for lying, and one for being weak.
Weakness is not tolerated. Weakness won't protect you, Ariella. Not after you killed your parents. It's all your fault.
And it was true. If I hadn't freaked, they might still be alive. If I hadn't walked into the kitchen, they might not have died.
They've been dead for two years, Ariella. Stop beating yourself up about it. Stop it.
HEY Y'ALL! RnRMe here. It's amazing being able to write again. I don't know if it's any good, but I plan on continuing the fanfic. Sam and Dean might pop up in the next chapter or two, I have to intro the sister and get her out of the picture first. Tell me what you thought, constructive criticism is welcome!
(Only doing the disclaimer once: Supernatural NO MINE. J2 NO MINE. MISHA NO MINE. FREE WILL NO MINE.)
~RnRme