The Lost Winchester
A/N: I am trying to make this a series. Let me know if you want me to continue this. Hope you like it, enjoy.
Summery: After her mother dies at a young age she is left to the foster system. Her foster parents end up being abusive and she is left to suffer. What will happen when it turns out she is a Winchester?
Word Count: 1185
Warnings: Language
I thought I was all alone after my parents died, and I did not think I would have a family. If there is one thing I told myself more than others I would say It was that I would never had a family. I learned that in the foster system. I got abusive foster parents that did not care for me. They were just in it for the money they collected each month. I would have to lie and hide the marks that littered my body. It was all I knew how to do, I had no one that I felt cared. I took to the things I found interesting. I always loved cars and how when they broke down they could be fixed. Slowly I worked on improving my skills with cars learning to become a mechanic. By the time I was of legal age to work I was a mechanic after school. I would come home late and wake early. I would arrive at school sore and tired making it hard to focus. One year. One year is all I had till I could run and never return. Till I could stop being beaten for my foster parents joy.
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First Day Of Senior School Year
I woke up to the shouting of my foster parents. I had grow use to the violence in the house, and knew they would be up soon to most likely beat me. Quickly getting ready, I waited for them to come get me before school. I heard the loud slam of the front door and the growl of the car engine slowly disappear. The steps creaked on the stairs signaling the entering of my foster dad. Entering my room his eyes shone with anger. I knew nothing good would come out of this. Slowly I moved to the floor resting my knees on the hardwood waiting for the beating. I was soon met with the stinging of slap on my cheek. “You weak piece of shit! You’re nothing but a bank to us!” He screamed.The beating continued. He switched between throwing me at the wall and punching my abdomen. My body was caked in new bruises and open wounds. After taking his anger out on me he was quick to leave. Scrabbling to get cleaned up for school, I ate a small snack before running out the door to my bus. I made it just in time to see the bus pull up. My shoulder was still dislocated from my earlier beating and It was starting to throb. Loading on to the bus I would accidentally brush up against the seat causing me to wince. Finally finding an empty seat I placed my bag next to me. Checking to make sure no one was was looking, I took a peek at my shoulder. It was completely swollen and turning a deathly purple. I covered it up before someone would see. I was lucky the seats had high backs providing slight privacy. The bus pulled along all the other buses filled with teens. Everyone excited to show off how they have changed over the summer. I could practically feel the hormones in the air. Getting off the bus was not as easy as getting on. People pushing to get off. More than once my bad shoulder was pushed leaving me to have to keep from making a noise to lead people on to my injury. Once off the bus I quickly made my way inside to find my locker. If I was lucky I could get to my first class fast enough to pick a seat in the back. Looking down at my schedule I saw my first class was World History. Picking up my pace I rushed to the room making it their before the popular group of kids. Relaxing a bit I sat at a seat in the back closest to the window. I thought over what happened this morning, my shoulder was starting to hurt worse and worse. I was cautious as to not a hint of my injury, but is was growing harder as it continued to hurt worse. Hearing the loud sound of chattered I turned to face the door. I watched as the popular girls of the school strolled in acting like they owned the place. I returned to looking out the window to past the time. The clicking of heels signaled the presence of someone beside me. Turning my head I was met with the queen bitch of the girls. I gave her a fake smile. “Can I help you?” I asked with peppy tone.“You can help by getting out of my seat.” she spoke with sass. I was getting fed up already with her and she had barely done anything. “Oh this is your seat?” I mocked. “I could have sworn I got here first, so if you want it you are going to have to take it from me.” I gave her a grin knowing I won. She stomped off furious I had won. I knew that meant I had to watch my back knowing she would not let it go. The bell rang starting the class. Our teacher walked in and silenced the class. She quickly got into teaching us about how North Korea and South Korea and how the relate and differ. I could not help but notice how pale and shaken she was. She was constantly fidgeting and looking at her phone. I may not be an expert a psychology but even I could tell something was wrong. I brushed it off as she was probably waiting for a text from someone, and tried to focus on what we were doing. The bell rung sparking the chaos of everyone rushing to leave. Not even stopping by my locker I made my way to my next block. Passing the office I saw my teacher crying she was being talked to by the police. I had to rush to my next class which happen to be P.E. UGH! How the hell was I supposed to do P.E. with my shoulder? I was able to ignore the pain earlier because I had something to take my mind off it. Rushing into the locker room I grabbed my close and went to an empty shower to change to hide my injures. The pain was excruciating, I honestly thought I might pass out from the pain. I had to rest for a second and wait for my dizziness to go away before heading to the gym. The teachers had us run for a bit which was not that bad. Every time my food would land on the floor a jolt of pain would run to my shoulder, but it was bearable. Switching gears we got into the more intense exercises. like push ups and weights. After getting water it was time to start the weights. Lifting the weighted ball unbearable pain shot through my shoulder. The pain was blinding, I could feel myself drifting off and hitting the floor.
