Alone (A Supernatural Fanfiction) [[ON HOLD]]

Chapter 1: A Whiter Shade of Pale

A/N: Hello! This is my new story! It's also a Supernatural fanfiction, but my main character is somebody that is of my own imagination. Supernatural or its characters do not belong to me, but the contents of this is purely of my creation. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading!

They all thought she was crazy. She claimed to have seen demons and angels on multiple occasions, even whilst drugged. She wasn't lying or looking for sympathy.

Her parents had left her on her own. They just took off in the middle of the night without saying goodbye or leaving a note.

She was five. Five and a half, technically, but too young nonetheless. Too young to be left alone and abandoned, with nobody to calm her screams in the middle of the night, when she heard ear-splitting shrieks in her head. In her head only.

She was in foster care first. Her grandparents on her mother's side had died when her mother was a child, and her father's parents had died in a mysterious plague that had overtaken their retirement home back when she was just a baby learning to walk.

Whilst she grew up in the foster system, she was moved from home to home, being sent out because of her behavior. Because of her lies, they said.

She dreamed about monsters. When she looked at people, their eyes were black. They had no white to them whatsoever. It was like she was staring down a well that never ended.

But sometimes--in her dreams, mostly--she saw bright lights. It took her some time, but eventually she saw wings. She enjoyed the presence of the Angels in her dreams at first, but then the brightness and intensity of their presence in her mind became too much and her eyes started to burn when she saw them in her dreams. It was difficult to sleep, and she'd often go nights--weeks, even--without sleeping.

Eventually they put her into an asylum once she turned 18, so that they didn't have to deal with her anymore.

When the doctors started giving her meds to keep her sane, it only made it worse. She started hearing ear-splitting shrieks whenever she closed her eyes, or randomly during the day.

Sometimes a window or glass would shatter. They placed her in a padded room after that. She had plastic silverware with rounded edges and styrofoam plates, bowls, and cups.

If she went a few days without screaming in her sleep or ramming herself into the walls of her cell, they allowed her to go outside. Only for a few minutes, but she tried her hardest to block out everything, to constrain herself, just long enough so that she could see the sky, feel the warmth of the sunlight on her skin, feel the breeze and smell the scent of nature.

And then they locked her back up again.

The dreams kept coming, the noise got louder the longer she was alone, and it got to the point where she stopped trying to pretend like nothing was happening. She couldn't act like she was sane. No. She had been this way ever since her parents left her. She had grown up with these voices and images in her head.

It had gotten to the point where she couldn't remember a time where she wasn't crazy. She was thoroughly insane and there was nothing she could do about it.

Maggie woke up, puffy eyes and a sore throat. She looked around and found her breakfast waiting for her across the room.

Eggs and jello. Yippie.

She swallowed down the eggs and ignored the jello. She walked over to the punching bag she convinced the nurses to install.

She gave it her all, letting everything loose, not missing a single beat.

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