My Last Breath (On Hold)

Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Everything, except Claire Leighton, belong to the creators of Supernatural.

September 15, 2004

"Let me go!" the small blonde girl screeched, struggling against the grips of two mental hospital workers as they dragged her back to her room.

She had just had a fit with another patient on her way to see a psychiatrist. Now, she wasn't insane. She was almost completely sane. Almost. Anyway, her parents dropped her off at this place when she turned 19 for 'schizophrenia'. And also attempting suicide by cop. Which is when she threatens the cops with a weapon so they'd be forced to shoot her. She's now 21.

The small blonde girl mustered up as much upper body strength as possible and threw her legs to the side, as high as she can to wrap them around the guy to the right's neck, causing him to fall backwards, and her and up landing on his legs. The force of the girl falling down caused the other guy to fall foward.

She quickly stood up and knocked the two down again before running down the opposite way she was being dragged. She was fine until she got to the lobby. When a security gaurd noticed her, he tried to grab her, but she ducked down and ran out the door of the hospital.

She ran out towards the road and ran across it. It was stupid of the hospital to not have gates, but then again it was in the middle of no where.

She was running across a field to the next road, the cold rain causing her clothes to stick to her skin. Her white shoes and the bottom of her white pants were now stained with grass and dirt.

She didn't dare look behind her, in fear that it would slow her down and someone might catch her. She ran as fast as her short legs would carry her. She was panting harder and harder.

She didn't know where she was going, but she was hoping she'd be near town in the morning. She was  almost to the road and didn't notice the bright headlights shining in the dark. She darted into the road, and the car screeched to a stop, causing her to freeze. 

She wanted to keep running, in case the people took her back to the hospital. Which they probably would.

The man in the passengers seat got out and was holding a bottle of something that the girl couldn't see in the dark. The man took the lid off and splashed some of it on her face. She then knew it was just water.

She gave the man a 'what the hell?' look. "What was that for?" She squeaked out in a soft, hoarse voice.

"Sorry." The man spoke with a deep voice. He took his leather jacket off and wrapped it around her small wet body. He put a hand on her back and led her to the car, ushering her to the back seat.

The girl took notice of the car model. 1967 Chevy Impala. She used to love old cars. She sat in the back seat. "Nice car." She mumbled.

"Thanks." The driver man spoke. His voice was deep as well. "I'm John and this is my son, Dean." He stated.

Dean, who just shut the passenger door, turned to look at her and smirked, before turning around and putting his seatbelt on.

"Anyway, what's your name?"

"Claire. Claire Leighton."