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"Melanie, Get up!"

Layla Watern tugged at her sister, who simply batted her hands away, rolling deeper into the covers.

"Melanie! We're going to be late for the bus and Mom is not driving us to school today. She did the night shift." Layla shoved her little sister.

Melanie lifted her pillow up over he ears trying to drown out her sisters prodding and yelling. Layla threw her hands up frustrated. She strode purposefully over to Melanie's stereo and flicked it on. With a hurried switch loud music filled the room.

Melanie groaned as the base pounded through her head. Layla, satisfied that her sister was going to get up, walked into the bathroom.

She placed her hands on the bathroom sink and eyed herself in the mirror. Layla was on the plumpish side but one could never fairly call her fat. Her face was averagely pretty, with standard brown hair and brown eyes.

She ran a brush through her hair and squeezed into an elastic, thankful for the school uniform which meant she didn't have to try and think about what to wear. There was a heavy knock on the door.

"Layla, are you almost finished in there?" Melanie demanded loudly.

Layla thought about the question. She thought she was done but once she relinquished her position in the bathroom she wasn't going to get it back before they left for the bus. She eyed her sisters grooming products with cynicism, trying to comprehend what the thousands of bottles and lotions were for. But as she opened the door and Melanie hurtled in she grudgingly acknowledged the benefits.

If Layla was standard and pudgy then Melanie was a goddess. Her tall svelte figure would qualify for a bikini model, with shining golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. Melanie was remarkable and sometimes Layla had pangs of envy but she had more or less accepted that Melanie was the little darling of the family.

Layla remembered that she had forgotten to brush her teeth. She turned back to the bathroom just in time to have the door snap curtly shut and hear the water start running. Her shoulders slumped. Why did this always happen?

She walked into her room and packed her bag for the day at school. She couldn't fit all the books in so she ended up clutching her copies of Herodotus and Oedipus in her arms. She just needed black rimmed spectacles to complete the outfit, thankfully her eyes were fine.

"What do you need all that crap for?" Melanie demanded as they hurried out the door. The bus stop was two streets away but they were running late.

"It's my books for lessons at school. You know school, Melanie!" Layla clutched her books tighter thankful she didn't need her two volumes of Greek mythology today.

"I'm well aware of what school is, thanks," Melanie flipped her hair over her shoulder and adjusted the straps of her tiny, cute backpack, which wouldn't have held what Layla needed for one lesson.

"Yeah, well some times I wonder," Layla snorted and kept walking.

"Whatever," Melanie dismissed applying more lip-gloss to her already pouting shiny lips. Layla sometimes despaired, not simply at her sister's vanity, but at how much they fit into the stereotypes of gorgeous sister vs. frump sister. It disturbed Layla so much sometimes she often expected a cute boy to walk around the corner and kiss her, followed closely by the film crew but her life wasn't a teen movie. There was no popular boy about to date her because of a bet and then fall for her, and her and her sister weren't going to come to an understanding anytime soon.

At least Melanie wasn't a cheerleader.

"Mom's working again tonight," Layla said idly as they came to the bus stop.

"That's good because I have a date with the TV and Sam Winchester tonight," Melanie smiled and smacked her lips.

"What is that you new boyfriend?" Layla asked confused.

Melanie had time to give her big sister a withering, 'are you kidding,' stare before the bus pulled off. Melanie jumped on and wound her way to the back already greeting her friends and flirting with the boys.

"Hi Rick," Layla greeted the bus driver.

"Morning, Layla. Big day to day?" He asked gesturing at the books.

Layla laughed, "Nope. Pretty average actually."

"God you're a brain aren't you," Rick joked as Layla settled into her usual seat behind him. Layla laughed.

A apple core came flying from no where and hit her in the back of the head. She winced but didn't cry out. This happened often and Layla soon realised they only did it more when they got a reaction. Instead she threw it lightly into the bin.

"Did that hit you?" Rick asked, his voice low.

"It doesn't matter," Layla mumbled, "Probably just an accident."

Rick snorted, "Yeah sure. Those kids are hideous."

Layla grinned weakly, "Don't make a scene Rick. It honestly didn't hit me hard."

Rick narrowed his eyes, Layla could see it in the rear view mirror, but he didn't say anything. Layla was thankful. She could hear her sister up the back giving her fake high superficial laugh, "stooop it! She's totally my sister."

Layla rolled her eyes. Melanie could be so pathetic. She would betray her own sister just so she could be in on the joke. She clutched her books tighter realising, a little nostalgic that, if she was truthful with herself, there were times when she longed to be in on the joke.

It was near the end of the day while Layla was trawling through her copy of Oedipus that her life got a little bit worse. Seated up in the senior section of the library she had managed to seize the chair with an outside view. She could see the storm rolling in!

"Hey honey," A smooth voice said next to her ear. She repressed a grin as her boyfriend slid into a seat next to her. Brandon had brown hair and was in the year below her. Layla turned to talk to him but when she caught the look on his face her smile died.

"Hi," Layla managed, not liking the smile in the least.

"We need to talk," He began.

"No we don't. Not really," Layla muttered.

"I can't do this anymore," Brandon said softly.

"Why?" Layla asked weakly.

"It doesn't feel right," Brandon stated, still trying to be nice.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Sure. Of course you can!"

"Did anybody else have anything to do with this decision? Or was it solely your decision?"

"What do you mean?" Brandon narrowed his eyes.

"I mean did anybody in your year tease you because you were going out with me," Layla tried not to choke on the words.

"It was just me," Brandon snapped. He said it a little too fast and he sounded a little too defensive.

"Well you said what you came to say. I guess that's it!" Layla could feel warm tears rising. Brandon looked like he thought he should say something else but he surrendered. Layla watched him walk away and began to cry. Not great sobs but tiny squeaks as she tried to hold it in. Her heart ached. She didn't think it was because she loved Brandon beyond belief but because she felt abandoned, alone in the library like some pathetic creature without a life.

Layla had a headache from crying, her nose still felt snotty and her mother was out working again. The thunder was getting louder with every crash.

"Just turn of the TV, Melanie!"

"Bite me," Melanie responded, flipping her sister off.

"What the hell is the crap anyway?" Layla stared at the TV. Too very attractive boys were running around talking about a poltergeist. Layla hated them for being good-looking at that very moment.

"It's supernatural! Damn you would know that if you even had a life?"

"Me not knowing a TV show means I have no life?" Layla demanded confused.

"Yep!" Melanie answered without even looking up. The room filled with another flash of lightening.

"Melanie, the thunderstorm could stuff up the TV," Layla pointed out, at that point also remembering to unplug the computer.

"So Brandon dumped you today," Melanie said idly, "I told you that you were eating too much Chocolate."

Layla felt another rush of tears and resisted the urge to slap her sister. Instead she walked into the computer room and unplugged it. She paused there and took a few steadying breaths. She placed a hand on her stomach and grasped some of the flesh. Layla didn't think of herself as fat. Sure she would never be one of those stick thin women on TV but she wasn't obese.

A loud crash of thunder actually rattled the house.

"Right, Melanie! Get off!" Layla strode out, turned of the TV and glared at her sister.

"You're a bitch. I'll be in my room if you wanna find me, porky." Melanie flounced off.

"And you think I'm the bitch?" Layla screamed after her.

"It's not my fault no body likes you," Melanie retorted coldly. That moment Layla hated her.

Her hands were shaking from fury as she bent to unplug the TV but at that very moment a stroke of lightening hit the house. Layla heard the sizzling crack of lightening and barely had a moment to be afraid before the roaring heat flew up her arm, shocking her heart and sending sparks dancing through her body.

Layla managed to weakly open her eyes. Her body was spasming as the electricity ran through her. She felt nauseous and her head pounded as if it intended to explode. Her eyes were blurry but she realised she wasn't at home. She wondered if Melanie had called an ambulance but it looked more like a hotel room. There were two wide eyes staring down at her.

"Sammy who the hell is that?' A loud voice cried.

"I have no idea. I just opened the door and she was on our floor," The other voice replied. It was a softer voice and belonged to the gentle brown eyes.

Layla could feel bile rising in her throat and her skin felt like it was burning. She barely turned her head before she vomited over the floor.

"Christ, what's wrong with her?"

"I don't know," The male voice was urgent. There were hands on her body as they moved her away from her vomit and eased her on to her side.

"Recovery position," The deeper voice instructed, "and mind her neck!"

Layla finally caught sight of two men's face. Two very familiar faces! Something registered in Layla's mind. These two were from Melanie's TV show. She opened her mouth to scream but the dark enclosed over her as she fainted.

AN: I wrote this chapter before i actually saw the eppisode with Layla in it so I had to sort of edit it in. Please review, constructive criticism is always welcome.