Supernatural One-shots

My Mystery Drawing

I always love to draw, anything. From animals to landscapes full of flowers and sometimes drawings of people. I like to draw realistic pieces usually, but sometimes, the odd doodle of a cartoon character would flow through my hand, pencil, onto the paper. It's my happy place to be honest, it's where I can go if I want peace and quiet.

There is something I haven't mentioned yet. It's something that I do not know anything about, only that it's not normal, that I'm not normal. The thing is, sometimes, when I'm drawing, I don't see what I draw. Now that may sound weird, but let me explain.

Basically, I might be fiddling with my sketchbook, not in the best of mood to draw, but I would feel the need to, a strong feeling would overwhelm me and my pencil would hit the sketchbook in soft strokes. It would almost feel like I black out, go to another world. But when I'd look down at my finished piece of art work, I would be confused. I'd look down and see something I'd never seen before, sometimes it would be something I dreamt about. That's not the weirdest part. Sometimes my art depicts a certain event, an event that later came true.

I never told anyone of these premonition-type drawings, I always thought it was a coincidence that these would happen, plus if I did tell someone, they would probably call me a liar, make fun of me and then beat the shit out of me. So I kept to myself, not telling a single soul about my... power. I liked to think of it like that now, not some messed up imagination.

My first drawing was about six months ago, the drawings had been a month apart, then fortnights and now weeks apart. My last one was exactly one week ago, the drawing being of something I actually new for once, me. It was a sketch of me leaning over, pencil in hand, sketching away, though I wasn't aware of the hand hovering over my shoulder, a hand that had a long sleeve sliding down it's arm. Of course, I found this strange, as near enough all of my past drawings had appeared to be true, or came true. I tried not to worry, it could just be a a friend who had a new coat, or a family member... someone you knew, but the worry you kept in the pit of your stomach isn't the most pleasant thing to experience.

I arrive home after a tiring day at work, my jobs not the best, but it'll do. I walked sleepily into the kitchen and made myself a drink of orange juice. I sipped that as I walked up stairs into my bedroom. I placed my drink on the desk next to my bed and laid down, not changing or getting under the covers. My eyes closed on their own and I fell into a peaceful sleep, though before I did succumb, to the sleep, a feeling passed through me.

I woke up with a start, knowing to look down straight from the previous times this had happened. When I looked down I saw a picture of a face. A man with bright blue eyes looked back at me, a confused expression resting upon his face. I stared at it in awe.

I suddenly feel chills down the back of my neck. I rise quicker than a flash of lightning, sending my fist out into nothingness. There's nothing in my room as I look around, the only sound was my chair rushing back, scraping across the floor and a sound... like a flap of wings. I turn back around and lift up my sketchbook and study the drawing once again. I'd never seen this man before. A common question fell into my mind; what does this mean?

I left my sketchbook open on the page which had the drawing of the man on it. I didn't touch the sketchbook for the rest of the morning. (I'd happened to wake up at around three in the morning.) Instead, I tried to sleep, changing into my pyjamas beforehand. I couldn't though, all I did was toss and turn in the bed, my cover falling of the bed several times.

I just could not shake the feeling that I was being watched.

I rolled onto my back, opened my eyes and just stared at the ceiling, anger holding me awake, as well as the feeling, the strange irritating sensation. I get out of bed, pushing my cover off of me and walk out my bedroom, into the hallway. I head to my bathroom, turn on the tap and splash my face with water, I then look into the mirror, hanging sturdy on the wall.

I take a step back.

I swear, I just saw him in the mirror. My... drawing?

I blink a few times before turning around and speeding out of bathroom.

I don't get far, as I hit a solid wall.

"What the fu-fudge?" I shouted as I took a step back. Where'd the wall come from? I look up and nearly scream.

There stood, the man I drew, blue eyes, dark hair, squinting eyes and the coat (trenchcoat.) He stood there with his head cocked to the side, confusion in his eyes. Who is this man? We stood, staring at each other.

"Leila?" Is the only word that falls from his full lips. His eyes filling now with surprise.

"Do I know you?" I reply quickly with, taking a big step back. This time all his eyes held was sadness and what looked like, guilt.

"It-it's Cas, Castiel. You don't remember." He didn't ask me, he seemed to have already knew the answer to his own question.

"I'm, ugh, sorry, Castiel, but I don't know you." I took more steps back and spun, running into another immovable body, it turned out to be the same man. He brought two fingers up and pressed them to my forehead.