Broken Soul (Supernatural/Dean Winchester)

The Box Under The Candle

With a budge, the front door finally opens. I throw my keys carelessly on the counter. My bag melts off my shoulder and I plop myself on the couch with a grunt.

I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, numb and empty. Alone. I mean, I shouldn't feel alone. I got a Mom and Dad who are healthy and happily married, a brother who is still alive even though his clumsiness should have got him killed multiple times, and a best friend who I know cares about me. But why? Why do I feel alone and sad and empty? Am I psychotic? What then?

But then I remember a few things. The best friends and the one boy who I though was going to be my boyfriend left me because I wasn't pretty enough or intresting enough or popular enough. How many times my family has called me a "fucking bitch". I then look back at my life like I was flipping through a photo album.

No one loves me, I think to my self. I think back to high school. Even to this day, now in my twenties, I've never had a boyfriend. Nothing confirmed really.

I sit up and push myself off the couch. I make my way to my small bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, my hard droopy face staring back at me.

I understand why none of you love me. It's because who in their right mind could love a girl who doesn't even love herself. A girl who destroys herself to keep those from worrying. I look into my cold, lifeless eyes.

I look over to the small box under my candle on top of the toilet. I carefully lift the candle and grab the box. I open it to find 6 silver blades calling out to me, mocking me.

I grab one and roll up my left sleeve. I press the blade down on my wrist at half strength. I look at it as the blood comes through the opening like a crack in a tea cup. I do two more. Than another one. My whole body shakes but my eyes are still dry. I watch as my scarlet red blood streams down my wrist, down my hand, and off my fingers.

My stomach twists as I hear a knock at the door. Quickly, I pull the drain to the sink out. I take a towel and wrap it around my arm and pull down my sleeve.

I run to the door to see who it was. I open it to see two men. One of them has short brown hair, whiskers and charming green eyes that you could get lost in. The second man was much taller than the first. He had shoulder length hair that I swear to God looks better than mine.

"May I help you?" I ask as sweetly as I can.

"Uh, yes," the shorter man speaks up. At that time, the two men were grabbing something out of their pockets. "I'm Agent Young, this is my partner Agent Johnson." The men held up their FBI badges.

"How could I be of help, Agents?"

"We were wondering if you knew anything about you neighbor David Lufiss. He was killed last night," says the tall agent.

"I...um...." and I begin to feel lightheaded. I stumble backwards but then catch by balance.

"Miss are you...uh..." I see the short man look at my wrist and then back in my eyes,"....are you OK?"

I look at my wrist to see that my blood bled through the towel and the shirt on was flashing the agents.

I lift my head to try to nod but instead, become instantly dizzy and crumble to the floor.

The last thing I hear before I black out is the sound of footsteps rushing to my side.