Trapped
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic
Summary: What goes through the real Meg's mind while she's possessed by the demon?
Warning(s): References to violence; possible ooc:ness; spoilers; some mild swearing
I hate her.
I've never really hated anyone before. I simply wasn't that sort of person. Always easygoing, got on well with most people… All right, I was a bit of a troublemaker at school, but never anything serious.
Everything changed when she stole my body, though.
It's been a year now. I'm hardly going to forget the day that my body was no longer my own. I had no way of defending against her. I didn't even know that demons existed until then.
I can't stand to listen to that bitch usurping my voice. Saying all of the things that I always said, and the things I always wanted to say, but never dared to. In some ways, being forced to sleep is a blessing.
I wish I could sleep all the time, though…
I screamed the first time she used my body to kill someone. Despite the tough act I always put on, physical violence actually makes me feel sick.
And murder is even worse…
She laughed at me then. Told me that I'd get used to what she did, and guess what? I did. But it doesn't mean that I like it.
I've never lost hope of being freed somehow. That amused her, but I refused to give it up. Refused to stop believing that someone would realise that something was wrong, and free me.
Like that guy – Sam. There was something about him that made her a bit nervous. I managed to push into her mind briefly, and discovered that it was to do with what he could do. She squashed me violently again almost immediately, but I also felt something about Sam's Mom.
I can barely remember my Mom's face… Only how safe and warm she made me feel. I never doubted that my parents loved me, even though they could be rather controlling sometimes.
Yeah, she actually told the truth there… I was surprised. But maybe it's easier to lie if you mix in some truth at the same time.
I tried everything I could to regain control of my body during that day, at least for a moment or two. I had the feeling that, if I could somehow alert Sam to the demon inside, he would be able to help.
But I failed… and he left to go back to his brother.
I thought that she'd be mad, but I guess my 'weak' struggles just amused her even more. Although, she did threaten to murder my family if I continued to cause problems. I know full well that she'd carry out the threat, and enjoy it, so I quietened.
Trouble is, now I'm not fighting for my life anymore – just my soul. I can feel it. I have felt it, since we got knocked out of the window. There's no way an ordinary human would ever survive a fall like that. I can feel my soul trying to flee what was once my body. The only thing preventing it are her claws buried deep inside.
The bullet in my chest just killed me again…
At least I can't feel any physical pain while she's in my body. But it'll hurt to die properly, I guess. I don't know. It's not like I've ever died before. Maybe it'll be just like going to sleep. I hope so. I don't want it to hurt.
I don't want to die alone, either… But I guess I can't have everything. Dying in my boyfriend's arms would have been nice, but hey, guess what? She killed him as well. She seems to kill men more than women, for some reason. Maybe she just really hates them? Or maybe it's just that she lusts after them?
Demons are so strange, even if a person's got one living inside their mind.
If I wasn't already dead, I'd probably be the biggest expert on demons – or one particular demon, anyway.
I've had a lot of time to think, and I've already decided that I don't want to continue living like this. If the only way to live is to let the demon stay inside of me, I'd rather die. I don't want to be a slave. If I get nothing else, at least give me this one wish.
That I'll be able to die free…
And now we're inside the house, and I can feel something almost tugging at my body – she hasn't felt it yet, and I'm hiding it from her. As much as I can. She's just thrown Sam's brother – Dean, I think is his name – into the wall. Now, she turns on Sam and the other.
"Did you really think that I wouldn't find you?" she asks, the tone of her voice deceptively sweet, and grating on my mental ears.
"Actually… We were counting on it."
We turn and look up at the symbol on the ceiling, and I suddenly feel a new rush of hope flood through me.