AN: God, I don't really know what I'm doing, starting a work this depressing. The idea popped into my head three days ago and I somehow thought 'okay, I'm trying to write this', so here is the random prologue. I would be really glad if I get any comments on how the idea sounds or do you like the start. I'm just hoping it will be clear to read and that it won't be confusing. Oh, and only this chapter is in first person. The rest of the fic will be in third person and the chapters will be longer.

If you are curious, the title is in Finnish and translates as something like 'Thursday's Child Shall Get Wings'. The idea somehow sparked from some poem my grandmother showed to me (Sorry, I don't know the author or name as it was in some album and there was no name attached) that had the line and it immediately brought Castiel to my mind. However, I didn't figure any good sounding translation, so I just left it in Finnish... And yes, I'm Finnish, so don't be surprised by any grammatical mistakes I'll make.

I always wanted to believe I would become something. That I would mean something.

All those faces mocking me would be the ones left to die with nobody remembering them. All those dreams of fame and money would be in vain. I knew that, as well as I knew that when they followed the pack like mindless dolls they were, they left behind their uniqueness. They were like clones, programmed to fit in and laugh at those who didn't.

But it was always the freaks. We would always be the ones who get the attention, let it be in school or in the world out there. The only difference was the attitude towards us.

In school, we were the laughing stock. The other kids amusement was throwing our stuff into the puddle after a whole day of raining, beating us up when we wouldn't do their homework for them, making fun of us because our clothes didn't look right. The usual stuff.

The real world on the other hand, it would embrace us. These so called 'popular kids' would become depressed alcoholics with their stupid little families and us, the ones they called weirdoes in high school, we were the ones that attracted attention of the world. Just because we weren't copies of each other, because we were unique individuals.

I hated it when I realised I was right. Well, except for one part: We all will without a doubt fall into a circle of depression before death comes for us.

I was bright eyed when I was a kid. I thought the world was a wonderful place. Then the reality hit me and I realised people just died around me. First my mother, then my father and last year my brother. I was left alone.

Life is full of disappointments and it's only matter of time before each of us will kick the bucket. It doesn't matter if it's by your own hand or someone else's. One way or another, someone will pull that trigger or tie that rope. In the end we all end in the same place, under the ground as our bodies rot away.

I had promised my brother I wouldn't do it, not after our dad killed himself so I didn't. I continued on living, if my situation could be called 'living'. I became alcoholic after my brother died in that accident. I dropped out of college and got stuck in a boring job as a janitor at the hospital. Of course, I didn't have anyone to share my life with and one night stands were a more regular thing for me. Friends in my life I had the amazing amount of four.

Sometimes, when I was alone in my small apartment while watching TV, I wondered why I had to be the one with such a fucked up life and cursed to myself the people on TV that had such perfect lives.