Chapter 38

This chapter is dedicated to Nerdette92 because she has been with me through the entire story since I started, deleted it and reposted it. Loyalty that deserves recognition, so thank you so much!

This chapter is a mess that shifts from first person to third, from present tense to past, I apologise for the confusion.

WARNING: mentions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, bullying, self-harm, depression, suicide, EDs and other delicate subjects.

I simply run, simply run I don't wanna stay

Count all my dreams like I am in the summary

Rain down on your town, on your town where it can begin

Follow my dream like a dream ought to be followed, yeah

You're not my day dream,

You're not my saviour,

You're not my guardian,

You're my get up and go,

I've got you figured out,

Nobody else does

~ Day Dreams by Midi Matilda

Imagine standing on a bridge extending from edge to edge of one continent to the other, impossible, isn't it? Now imagine you are below the water, your head spins as you sink deeper and deeper into the ocean, it pulls you into its womb and you do not have time to think how you ended where you are; you only want to save your life, to survive. There is a pulsing sound in your head, you hear it clearly until it becomes intolerable; your lungs sting from the water entering through your mouth and nostrils, the pressure begins to crush you, you can see your hands reaching for nothing in front of your face, the water is cold penetrating thousands of needles into your skin until you feel yourself numb. The light becomes less and less until there is only darkness and you are certain of one thing; you are dead.

Imagine waking up in the morning, the warm water running down your body to the cool tiles, it makes you shiver and even with your eyes closed you know those little bumps on your skin are formed throughout. The steam clings onto the glass while the rest radiates off your body. You savour the sweet taste of the strawberry preserve or perhaps the salt from the eggs you have for breakfast, or the bitter taste of the coffee, or the sour aftertaste of the orange juice. The world seems bright for a moment and you forget until you walk out that door into reality, a world that awaits for you no matter how not prepared you are; you face it hoping to survive.

You know things, a lot of things, what you do not know is whatever awaits behind those doors in front of you, eight hours trapped yet you expect it; sometimes it comes too much and your eyes close as a heavy sigh escapes your lips, then hold on to the edges of the sink in the washroom. You can hear them, the voices around you, some are of laughter, excitement, others are insults, cries and complaints; you can see them in the halls. The first year boy who suffers from anxiety disorders hides himself against his locker to avoid being seen by anyone as panic surges through him, his body trembles with unease as he attempts to control his breathing and prays his tormentor decides to leave him alone for one day.

A girl stands by the entrance of the classroom with the "friends" who secretly think the worst of her, calling her names none would dare say to her personally; what they do not know is her struggle, when she stands in front of the mirror staring at her image and allows tears roll down her face from the imperfections she sees, the desperation she feels and the hatred that grows each day, even as her eating disorders worsen her thoughts are 'I am doing okay, this is a good thing for me.' only she knows it isn't, but the feeling is stronger than the taste of bile in her throat, stronger than the growls of her stomach and the sting in her eyes.

There is the boy with the fringe falling on his forehead to cover his eyes, he wears oversized hoodies, tight jeans, and sits at the corner of the room to avoid interaction or any unwanted attention. He sighs to relieve the ache and pressure in his chest yet it does not make it go away; his eyes scan around the room trying to comprehend why most of the students call him names if he has never given them a reason to. Perhaps they know about the scars extending from his arms to his wrists, his legs, his stomach and on the side of his neck; perhaps they see as he holds the thin, cold blade between his fingers as he makes it dance on his flesh, smooth and painful yet he finds pleasure while his brain screams to stop, he can not stop because it has become a beautiful thing to see the warm liquid travel down his skin to stain the tiles of the bathroom floor. Perhaps one more scar will make the sin go away, rip it out of him for at least a moment and not feel his father's lips on his skin, not feel his hands trailing down his body, abusing, stealing his innocence. He has plans for tonight, one last breath and one last pill in his mouth.

Sarah scribbles on her notebook as the teacher speaks but she isn't listening, rather wonders what she may have done to be called 'slut'. Her hands unconsciously pull at the edge of her dress to hide her legs, not that she is ashamed of her body but it repulses her how all predatory eyes turn to her, objectifying her like a public display. She knows it is not her doing wrong but the feeling of self-hatred does not disappear, it makes her feel dirty and ashamed; it lowers her self-esteem.

Gus, the 'bully', clenches his fist resting on his desk as he attempts to forget last night, he can still feel the lashes against his flesh and the fist on his jaw, he can hear the screams and his mother's sobs begging her husband to stop; Gus stands in front of her just as his father's fist is about to meet her face but it falls on him. Everything is so vivid, so fresh and it angers him how he is not able to cry, as much as he tries it is impossible and it makes his chest hurt from holding it inside. He sees Drake, the ' popular jock', smirking with satisfaction as a crumpled piece of paper hits the back of his head and the students around him laugh calling him names.

He swallowed bitterly feeling suffocated by the tie around his neck, the pressure built inside his chest along with the flutter at the pit of his stomach; his books were tightly pressed against his blazer as he walked through the crowd avoiding eye contact, attempting to be invisible yet he felt as they glanced, stared and whispered about him as if he were different from any other. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves but it did not help. Suddenly it hit him, he missed home, the friends he had come to know, the halls he was used to passing, the faces he had become familiar with and the warmth of his mother's 'goodbyes' before school; he did not belong in this place, this was not home.

He froze in panic staring at his supplies scattered across the floor, the pencil rolled for a moment before stopping by a young boy's feet and the papers he'd collected the previous day were being stepped on by other students passing close to him. There was laughter, whispers, gasps and confusion; he could feel the heat rise from the back of his neck to his face, his anxiety increasing and his body shaking, it was humiliating, and though he commanded his legs to run they did not respond. There was silence, in his head everything was dark, cold and silent, then an arm pushed him to the ground making him land on his back yet he could not bring himself to look at the stranger; the silence fell.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, freshmeat!" a boy stood before him, his voice was intimidating, sharp and graceless as if it were still going through a puberty phase. "Watch where you're going, freak!" a smirk formed at the corners of his lips. "What's your name, newbie?"

"Samandriel Alfred Johnston." the boy responded carefully pushing his body off the ground with his arms.

"That's a weird name." he frowned, "Suits a freak like you." he chuckled. "You're in luck, Samandriel, you are my new pet instead of Barry over there." he pointed towards a scrawny boy hiding himself further into his locker. Samandriel stood up fixing his uniform and his tie.

"I apologise for running into you, it was accidental." he responded lifting his head to look the boy in the eyes.

"I don't believe you, you pushed me and that's gonna cost you." he took a step towards Samandriel, his eyebrows furrowed with sudden anger.

"I did- I'm" Samandriel knit his brows in confusion and worry.

"Shut it!" he took a step forward, "I'm gonna teach you not to mess with me." he clenched his fist close to his chest ready to hurt the younger boy.

"I already apologised to you, it was unintentional." his body did not move, neither did his eyes from Dirk's.

"Dirk, Dirk." the voice of a familiar teen sounded from behind the crowd and several heads turned to its source. "Don't you touch a hair on that boy's head." Meg appeared behind Samandriel with arms folded across her chest.

"What's it to you, Meg?" Jo Harvelle and Adam Milligan appeared behind her, Dirk glanced at them, then at Samandriel and back to Meg.

"You touch my cousin and it will be the last thing you do." her eyebrow raised in defiance as a smirk formed on the corner of her lips.

"You only bark but don't bite, bitch." he mocked.

"The best torturers never get their hands dirty." she grinned, her eyes moved to the sides of the boy glancing at the girls standing behind him.

"What? Your bitches do the dirty work for you?"

"You shouldn't call us that." Eve murmured against his cheek, he could feel her hot breath on his flesh making the hairs on his body stand on end. Ruby smirked at the sound of the boy's breath caught in his throat yet he glared in their direction.

"Alright, break it up! What's going on here?" the school headmaster headed towards them, the crowd dispersed along with Eve and Ruby, Dirk glared at Meg and Samandriel before walking away in silence. The headmaster urged the students into their assigned classes and disappeared into the elevator.

"Little Sami," she grinned exposing her pearly-white teeth, her eyes scanned the boy from head to toe, "No one told me you and aunt Hester were visiting."

"We didn't tell anyone except Michael, I am staying at their house." he responded with a small apologetic smile. "I must thank you for-" he motioned with his head towards the direction Dirk had disappeared from. "I would not have liked spending my first day in the headmaster's office."

"Don't mention it. That wasn't a good start for you, try not getting into trouble too much, angel."

"It was purely accidental and I was lost, it won't happen again, I hope." he glanced at his shoes as the panic disappeared. "Um, I guess it is time for class."

"Where are you supposed to be?"

"Algebra." he held the schedule out for her to see. Jo and Adam knelt to retrieve the damaged papers from the floor for Samandriel, he whispered a 'thank you' and smiled.

"Jo and Adam have that class with Castiel." Meg glanced at the two teens, "They are nice people who can help. And one more thing, I assume Michael hasn't told the boys about uncle Charles, has he?"

"No, I- I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"I know, my father said the exact same thing but sooner or later they will find out, just don't let it be from us." She smiled.

"I am careful with my words." He gave a small nod, then glanced at Jo and Adam.

The air outside was thick, sharp and cold, the sun hid behind the grey clouds on a Monday morning. He sat quietly in his desk with his elbows resting on the table, his fingers intertwined and a stoic expression on his face. The room was silent with only a few whispers from some of the students in the room about the new student rumoured to be one of the Novaks. Samandriel entered the classroom and glanced around in search for familiar faces; he noticed Castiel sitting behind a boy he recognised as Dean, having been introduced the previous day. Jo tapped him gently on the shoulder instructing him to follow her and Adam where they sat close to Dean and Castiel.

"Is he really your cousin, Castiel?" He was interrupted from his thoughts by a girl assaulting his personal space, Castiel blinked twice before looking up at her, then noticed Dean glaring at the girl with reprimand in his eyes as if asking to move away from the boy, she gave a step back with an apologetic expression.

"Samandriel? Yes." He gave a small nod attempting to hide the small smirk wanting to appear at the corner of his lips.

"How old is he?" she smiled, Castiel spotted the boy from the entrance walking in his direction.

"Fifteen."

"He is adorable!" she clapped her hands together twice in excitement, "Is he going to stay here for a long time? Is he in your grade or mine?"

"I do not know, you should ask him." he frowned slightly.

"You can sit here next to Adam." Jo smiled pointing at the empty seat, Samandriel returned the gesture with gratitude towards her before placing his papers on the desk, then turned to Castiel who seemed displeased by the interrogation of the girl.

"Excuse me, Miss?" he tapped her shoulder gently making her turn in a sudden movement with surprise. "May I have a word with Castiel, please?" Samandriel questioned, the girl's expression twisted from excited to embarrassed with a rose tint displaying upon her cheeks; she muttered an apology before returning to her seat.

"Thank you." Castiel let out a blow of air that made the hairs falling on his forehead stand, Samandriel laughed quietly, then crouched to his cousin's level. "That was rather unpleasant, inquisitive people are my least favourite." he looked at the boy expecting him to speak but the other kept silent. "Were you needing my assistance with something or was that simply to save me?" he smiled, Samandriel chuckled with amusement, then his expression warped into a serious one.

"Yes, I- um, I wanted to ask if you have your anxiety medicine with you." he muttered quietly enough for only them to hear.

"Are you alright?" Castiel frowned.

"For the moment." he pressed his eyelids tightly, "I had a relapse before coming here, not strong enough to worry yet it is the first time it happens in two weeks. I- I do not wish to be trouble for you or your brothers." he sighed.

"You are not trouble, and I do have some." He reached for a small bottle hidden in his school bag assuring no one but they could see it. "You will be alright, Samandriel, do not stress too much for your first day. I believe it is only logical it happens on your first day to school but if it persists you should take them."

"Thank you." he closed his fist to hide the pills, "Everything here is different from home and I do not wish to be a burden to you and your friends if it were to happen."

"You are not." Castiel smiled at the boy reassuringly, "They can not hurt you here, not with all your family around." he placed his open palm on top of the boy's shoulder. "They could try but they will not be granted that satisfaction."

"Thank you." Samandriel sighed relieving the pressure in his chest. It was somewhat comforting to hear these words from someone who understood and knew his history, yet the thought crept upon the dark corners of his mind implanting fear and insecurity.

There are two black wooden doors that lead to the lunch room of the school; there are tables in rows, circular, rectangular and one that extends from the middle of the room to the very end. Castiel sits at one of the ends with Dean Winchester, followed by Sam Winchester and Gabriel, Balthazar sits next to Gabriel, Anna and Jo sit together in front of Adam Milligan and Ash, then Pamela, Chuck Shurley and Becky Rosen. I have been invited to sit next to Castiel.

There is a pulsating sound inside my head from all the voices in the room, much crowded than the one I had been accustomed to, there are voices from every direction yet one person intrigues me; a boy stands outside the lunch room who can only be seen from the position of my seat. His hands reach into his pockets as he lowers his head avoiding eye contact with the students around him who seem to laugh of his appearance. It is a familiar face, the dark hair falling on his forehead, the blue eyes that feign pride yet the apparent ache is hidden in them, the dishevelled tie around his neck and torn trousers; Dirk is his name.

"Sami?" Gabriel's voice interrupts his thoughts.

"Huh?" Samandriel and Sam turn to the source of the voice at once, they look at each other before everyone sitting at the table starts to laugh.

"Okay, there can't be two Sammys." Dean shakes his head.

"It's Sam, Dean!" the boy protests. "Can't you just call me Sam?"

"Not a chance, Sammy." he makes a clicking sound with his mouth and the younger boy rolls his eyes.

"My name is Samandriel."

"That's way too long of a name." Dean squints his eyes and purses his lips as if in thought. "How about your middle name?"

"Alfred?"

"Alfred, Alf? No. Fred? No. Alfie?" everyone turns to Samandriel expecting a reply, the boy smiles and nods in approval. "Okay, I dub thee sir Alfie." he stands to touch Samandriel's shoulders with the tip of his unused knife, the students in the lunch room clap with laughter as he claims his seat once again and the boy smiles.

"Dean, you are a nerd." Sam chuckles.

"Am not, bitch!" he defends throwing a chip in his direction, it lands in Gabriel's plate, who then proceeds to eat it.

"Jerk." Gabriel notices Sam's distraction and takes the opportunity to steal the boy's dessert.

"Oh shit!" Dean reaches for Castiel's serviette close to his glass, "Mum's going to be angry." he rubs the stain of ketchup from his blazer.

"That's because you're a pig when you eat." Sam laughs.

"Shut it, Sam!" he continues to rub the stain. "Man, I don't want to go the rest of the day with this stain." he lets the serviette rest on the table, Castiel laughs along with Sam.

"Put water on it." Gabriel suggests, "Sometimes it happens to me and it goes away with water."

"Hey! That's mine!" Sam notices the boy digging his fork into Sam's dessert and retrieves the platter from Gabriel to the opposite side.

"You don't even like sweets!" Gabriel attempts to take the dessert.

"So? It's still mine."

"Give it, Sam!"

"No! You already ate two."

"You don't know that."

"I saw you."

"You think you saw me but you really didn't."

"Oh my god, you guys stop fighting for a piece of lemon bar." Jo rolls her eyes dramatically.

"Can I have yours then?" Gabriel smiles charmingly.

"No." she frowns bringing the platter closer to her.

"I'm not going to eat mine." Adam hold the platter towards the greedy teen. "You can have it."

"You are awesome, dude!" he chuckles bringing the dessert closer to him taking delight in the scent of lemon.

"Yeah, yeah." Adam waves his hand to dismiss it.

Castiel intertwines his hand with Dean's under the table where they think no one is able to see, a small smile forms on the boy's lips feeling the warmth of his hand transfer to his own. Sam steals the last bite of Gabriel's dessert, in return, Gabriel steals a kiss from the boy's lips making a rose tint appear on his face and their friends howl as their open palms hit the surface of the table repeatedly. Samandriel smiles sincerely for the first time today, this is not home, nor his friends, but they are the people he will come to know, and the past ones will be only a memory. And he understands, what it all means, it can be made into something good.

It is wonderful to observe the world from a perspective not many understand, yet it allows me to see through the masks that one chooses to hide the real being we have yet to discover from those around us. It is thrilling and frightening to see the weight, or the guilt, or the pain, or the emptiness they carry, yet for a moment nothing matters. School work does not matter, appearance does not matter, what you do waking up does not matter, neither do the things that eat you inside; what does matter is family, how much you care for these people because they will always be here.

Until tomorrow, dear diary. Yours, Samandriel.