My Winchester

Livin' on a Prayer

My sister jumped when I slammed the door to my car shut. "What's wrong with you?" she asked me as I started the engine and began pulling out of the school parking lot. 

"Education sucks," I bitterly replied. She must have sensed my tone, because she didn't question me any further. 

I tore down the streets of the sleepy little town of Henderson, Illinois. We were home in no time, considering I drive faster when I'm pissed. Plus, my '69 Dodge Charger needed to be ran every once in a while. I unlocked our front door and went straight to the refrigerator. Pulling out a Mello Yello, I leaned against the counter.

My school was simply filled with too many whores and wanna-be beach boys. Today, some girl tried to give me shopping tips. At first I thought she was generally being nice, but then she slowly started telling my how horrible my normal attire was. It turned into her and her friends simply criticizing me in front of everybody.

One chick even offered to "give the poor some charity" so that I could invest in something prettier to wear. 

I look down at my plain black crew cut t-shirt, my favorite red flannel, dark denim skinny jeans, and black combat boots. This was me. And I didn't need anybody to try to make me into somebody else. 

 A sigh escapes my lips as I take my phone from my back pocket. Deciding that I need to let loose for a while, I turn on my favorite rock playlist and plug my phone into the stereo in the living room. After the second song, I start feeling better. By this time, I was dancing around my kitchen, screaming lyrics to "Sweet Child O' Mine". I fell against the counter as the song ended, laughing at myself. My cat waltzed in then, staring at me as if I was insane. I smiled down at him and pinched his wiskers, making him look like the Cheshire cat. 

Then my song came on.

I listened to everything pretty much, but rock was my favorite genre. This playlist was full of everything from Saving Abel to Def Leopard. 

"Once upon a time, not so long ago," I sing, making my cat run into the other room. I stand up, beginning to dance again. I was wishing I was at a rock concert, blaring my heart out. Jumping up and down, both hands clasped into the rock on sign. Nobody would care either, because everybody else would be doing the same thing.

With the music turned up loud, I prance around my kitchen, singing my heart out. Bon Jovi roared from the speakers. I probably sound like a dying cow against the songs comparison, but I didn't care.

I guess I didn't realize how loud I really was.

Because that's when the Winchesters literally broke my door down.

I stared, dumbfounded, as my door fell off of it's hinges with a bang. Two men stood there, on top of the thing, looking at me confusedly. I felt like time stopped as we looked at each other. The music continued playing but I didn't notice until a minute or so after. I slowly moved towards my phone, hitting the stop button. I kept my eyes on the boys the whole time.

"You..." The shorter one tried. He actually wasn't that short; it just looked that way because of the extremely tall individual beside him. I raised my eyebrows, not knowing what to say.

"You're not a demon?" The taller one eventually said, kind of quietly.

My eyes widened. There were psychos in my house.

I looked over the guys for a minute, feeling like I had seen them somewhere before. And then it hit me. And my jaw dropped.

"Oh my god. Ohh my god," I mutter backing away from the door.

They raised their eyebrows and looked at each other.

"You.." I mumble, pointing a finger at the shorter male. "You were on the news. You... You murdered that girl.." I back up even more, feeling scared out of my wits. Believe it or not, I actually had a tough exterior. I wasn't about to pretend everything was peachy when there was murderers in my kitchen though. This was insane. These guys were on the news for weeks. My knees threatened to cave in, but I stood my ground.