Chapter 1
Sarah's POV
This doesn't feel real.
15 years. I've spent 15 years believing I had no family and no home. And here I fucking am.
In Kansas City, with my brothers, walking into what seems to be a post-apocalyptic bunker.
Sam: Welcome home.
Sarah: Not too shabby.
As I'm walking down the stairs, I'm thinking about how I can't believe this is part mine. I'm part owner of this bunker. I've never owned anything. Not even the clothes I wear. And now I'm part owner of this place and I have two brothers.
Sarah: This is all yours?
Dean: Awesome right? Curtesy of the Men of letters.
Sarah: Cool.
Dean: So, a few no-no rules. Don't tell anyone where we live, don't drink my beer and don't ever ever touch my car. Other than that, go nuts.
After a few days of living here, I'm getting to like the place. So much room. The boys haven't been here a ton, they're out hunting a lot (how anyone could enjoy hunting nowadays is beyond me) but they're cool. Yesterday, they came back from a hunting trip with burgers, we watched tv and played a boarding game. Dean hates loosing, it's pretty entertaining to watch. Sam reads a lot and had incredibly soft hair, I can't believe we've got the same genes.
Dean: Alright kiddo, time to go to sleep. First day of school tomorrow.
Sarah: Don't worry I'm not tired.
First day of school. I haven't been the new kid for a long time.
Dean: I didn't ask you if you were tired or not, I said it was time for you to go to bed.
Huh.
Sarah: Well you're bossy all of a sudden. I thought you said there were no rules here.
Dean: Then let me rephrase that: There's not a lot of rules when it comes to the bunker but when I tell you something I still expect you to listen to me.
Breathe dude.
Sarah: Okay... well, it's nice of you to care about my sleeping routine...? But I'm okay. I'm not a big sleeper.
Dean: Sarah I don't mean to get all paternal on you but it's almost midnight, you have school tomorrow: you're going to bed. Don't argue.
Yep I don't like this.
Sarah: I like that you care, and I was trying to play along but I think this might be my limit. I figured we'd have this conversation at some point: I don't need a father figure, I've been brought up by good people, I'm done, I'm made, I'm practically an adult. I appreciate you taking me in but that's all I need, a place to live. I don't need the rest. Nope. Thank you. But no.
Dean: A 15-year-old is no adult in my book.
Sam: Look I hear that you've had to go through a lot on your own and that you probably don't need us all that much but there's a moral contract that comes with taking you in. We're not just roommates. We're your legal guardians. I don't question the fact that you're mature for your age, you've had to be. But you're still only 15.
Sarah: I said no, Sam.
Dean: Yeah, that's not gonna fly here. We tell you to do something, you do it, end of story. Now if you wanna start giving us an attitude, we can start talking consequences.
What. The. HELL
Or, you can go to bed and we can forget this conversation.
Seriously, what the hell? I can tell by the look in his eyes that he means it. Who does he think he is? I'll play ball this time and I'll go to bed (because I'm tired and only because I'm tired) but if he thinks for a second that he's got power over me, he's barking up the wrong tree. There is simply no way.Where the hell did I step foot?
YOU ARE READING
Don't push me
Fantasy**WARNING: contains spanking, contains self-harm and the main character suffers from an eating disorder Sarah has never met her parents. She's taken care of herself her whole life and doesn't need anyone to come to her rescue now. But all of a sudde...
