Freaks

Carry On, Wayward Daughter

Charlie

Life for me was a series of jackets, cutting slits in the back of my t-shirts, lots of rock music, outlandish stories that were 100% true and 100% frightening, old tv references and spending time at home alone while my parents were out saving the world from whatever horrible thing escaped from the hell it was trapped in.

Human interaction was little but I was okay with it. I never fit in when I did. That is incredibly cliché, I know. It's true though so that makes it okay. I think. I went to public school but my dad decided it was best to homeschool after I brought my angel blade for show and tell in the second grade.

I learned a lot more at home then I could at school. Most of it was about things the teachers didn't even know existed. Angels like me. Monsters like the ones my parents and uncle hunt. Werewolves like the one I met the first time I was allowed to go on a hunting trip with my family, three years ago.

We lived in a house semi in the middle of nowhere. It had a huge back yard that I could practice flying around in. The perfect home for our far from perfect family.

It was New Years Eve, friends of the family were about to start showing up so I made the executive decision to head downstairs and wait.

"We have to tell her."

Now, I don't snoop. I promise. Snooping is not my thing. I am literally an angel child. I was just walking past my parent's room when I heard my mother's calm voice.

"No," Dad responded with a snap.

I was curious by now. I was the only girl in the house that wasn't in the conversation so the odds they were talking about me were high. I crouched next to the door, careful not to disturb it. They thought I was still in my room blaring Twenty One Pilots through my headphones (I found out I really like that style of music, since I fell to earth).

"When you were younger, not telling others important information got people hurt. It got people killed."

"It's nothing to worry about. Can we even trust what that witch said? Witches lie a lot."

I crinkled my nose up at the thought. Anything that involved witches was probably not good. They were, excuse my word choice, buttheads.

"That's true... But... we should still watch out. Year she turns 15... That's next year. It's New Years Eve. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"I know, Cassie. I know. However, for now it stays our secret. We can tell her tomorrow. Let's just try and have some fun tonight."

"It's hard to have fun when the fate of your daughter is in danger."

"It's also hard to have fun when you are no fun."

After that, the room filled with laughter and the tension and urgency from earlier was gone. Sensing the end of the conversation, I decided to head downstairs before I got caught. I flipped on classic rock radio.

~•~

I've always found it interesting how humans celebrate New Years. I don't remember much from heaven but I do remember it was never something to celebrate because everyone has lived through so many of them. It was like that with a lot of holidays.

The night was filled with board games, a few divorces because of said board game (we were playing monopoly), and an angel that always came up on top.

As it got closer to midnight, my dad poured two glasses of champagne and a glass of sparkling grape juice. Being a not-fully-human gets you away with somethings but not quite everything. Alcohol sounds disgusting anyways.

Only a few minutes until midnight now. We had a countdown up and there was a comforting static of excitement in the air. The clock flipped to 11:55.

A knock on the door.

My mom frowned, "Were we expecting anyone?"

My dad shook his head, instinctively expecting the worst. He grabbed his gun that was kept in the cereal cabinet and went to answer the door. He pressed the gun to our side of the door and pulled it open slowly.

"Please. I need your help. I didn't know who else to go to. I just-" the voice was cut off by my dad pulling her in and slamming the door.

I recognized her instantly. Her hair was longer and rattier, she was taller and carried herself more confidently. She also looked like she literally crawled through the depths of hell. The werewolf I met on my first hunting trip.

"Jack!" I run over, throwing my arms around her shoulders.

"Hey, Charlie," she gave me a squeeze before dropping her arms to her sides.

"You said something was wrong?" My dad asks, tucking the gun into his waistband.

"Yeah. My pa- Well, they showed up. I ran. I didn't know what to do. My parents are out for the weekend. There was another person there too... I didn't recognize them or get a good look... I just don't know," she responded, speeding up towards the end.

"Don't worry, Jack. It'll be okay. We've handled worse," my mom said in her calm voice, striding over.

Jack nods slowly, taking a deep breath, "Okay."

The grandfather clock in the corner began chiming. Midnight. On the fourth dong, the wall imploded in an cloud of dust and rubble.

~•~•~•~•~

A/N

Hey, an update! I knew what I wanted to write for awhile but it finally connected into actual words.

I'm fairly proud. I'll try and update everything else soon-ish so keep an eye out!

~ Neil Tack