The beginning...
I pulled behind someone's Impala and turned down the low hum of music coming from my speakers. Everyone must have already been inside because the front lawn appeared to be abandoned. I pulled my flannel over my tank top and took one final glance at myself in the car mirror before stepping out. I closed the door quietly while adjusting my pocket knife in my pocket.
Hey, you can never be too careful!
My heels clicked loudly over her asphalt driveway as I slowly walked closer to her front door. The cold air sent chills down my arms, which eventually made goosebumps appear under my flannel. It was oldly quiet and it made me even more nervous to show up on her doorstep all dressed up for a simple party. What if I was the only one in heels?
After contemplating ringing her doorbell or not, I finally gave in and waited for an answer. I picked at the dirt under my nails and noticed an eerie silence that cut through the night air.
I pushed the small glowing button on her door for the third time while it chimed away. I waited what felt like forever before walking through the mushy ground to the back door. Each step I took sunk my heel deeper and deeper into the soft Earth. I turned to look through the glass sliding door and gasped loudly. Someone must have got into a fight because there were smears of blood on the ground and the walls, but somehow I knew that wasn't the case at hand. My gut screamed for me to turn around, but I disobeyed and took a step or two closer to the scene.
I slid open the door about half way and crept in. There was a low hum of male voices upstairs so I pulled my pocket knife out into my hand. I tried to tell myself it was just another wild party and I was going to embarrass myself when I walked to an epic party with a knife in hand, but somehow I couldn't put down my only form of protection. I took my noisy heels off by the door, I didn't bother to shut it behind me as I crept down the orderly hallway filled with family photos and hand-drawn images. My heart stopped in my throat as I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I had to think quick so I scanned the room for the fastest hiding spot and hid behind the door, there wasn't any other place to go.
I heard the pair of feet slowly searching each room with hushed voices. I could make out the words as they drew nearer.
"....check the hall....then the..room..."
The mumbled voices began to drift away but I knew I couldn't leave my hiding place until they were long gone with their stolen goods or kidnapped victims. The blood smear came to mind and I couldn't possibly think of what they would do with a group of drunk teens, the thought made my stomach turn.
"..none..."
"...have you check...kitchen"
"I....ink...so"
"hmmm..." I heard his voice travel closer to the kitchen, "Check again."
His voice was at least 3 feet away now. I felt the door creak slightly as he wedged through. A lump formed in my throat as I saw a gun in the first guy's hand. I seen his other hand crossed over his gun with a flashlight in hand. I placed a shaking hand over my mouth to silence my breathing as the taller one walked through holding the same contents. I brought the knife closer to my chest, ready to take them down if I was caught.
"The door just moved.." The shorter one said in a calm voice.
I was out of time, I shouldn't have moved that knife. I threw myself at the taller one so I would have a better chance. I clung to his back and forced the knife at his neck, but before it could slice through his throat I was flung back by the other one. My knife scattered to the floor with a sharp sound and so was I. The short one held my arms down as the tall one sat on my stomach with his gun in his left hand. He raised up my mouth, smearing my lipgloss all over my face and on my teeth. He lightly pressed down on my gums, twice.
"She's clear." He was obviously anything but relieved.
The short one pressed his knee into my right forearm and dug through his jacket until he pulled out a flask with a weird symbol on the front.
"Please, I didn't do anything." I felt tears sting in my eyes but I refused to let them streak down my cheeks.
He answered with an eye roll before splashing the cold liquid in my face and I looked at him surprised.
"Not a demon either." I felt my eyebrow furrow as he said this, but I didn't have time to think as his knee crammed further in my arm.
He placed the flask back in his pocket and fished out a knife with odd carvings. I felt my stomach churn and I fought against their combined strength. The tall one pulled down one off my sleeves as the short one sliced a thin line across my upper arm. I didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing the pain in my eyes.
They got off me in unison and helped me to my feet.
"What was that for." I spat at the one who cut me, then I remembered the term he used, demon. I wasn't a demon.
"I'm Sam and this is my brother, Dean."
