Dark, dusty, crummy. A few words to describe the motel room Abby and her mom Jenna were staying in. Abby had fallen asleep on one of the queen sized beds in the room. Abby had claimed the left one and Jenna claimed the right one. There was a night stand in between the beds. A iPhone 6 with a sleek black case sat on the night stand next to Abby s head as she slept.
But Abby didn't feel right. She slowly opened her eyes and felt under her pillow for her Glock 22. She felt the rough grip of the pistol and slowly wrapped her hand around it. Quickly she popped up and pointed her gun around the room. But was greeted by an old small fridge, a square TV, a dusty counter top, a bathroom door open with the light on, and an empty bed. Her mom was nowhere to be set the Glock down and grabbed her phone, unlocked it and texted Jenna.
Abby: Mom, where d you go?
Jenna: I had to get some food and salt. I ll be home later.
Abby: I m not stupid, you went to go check out the haunted house. We already have enough food for a full house and enough salt to fill the ocean. I m heading over to help you.
Jenna: Abby dear, I don t want you to get hurt. So you are sitting this one out.
Abby: How many hunts have I been on? How many vamp nests have I taken out single handed? How many werewolves have I put one between their eyes? I m a hunter not a foolish child.
Jenna: This one is just a simple salt and burn. Nothing too big, you re fine. Abby hatted when her mom babied her. She was a hunter just like her mom and can handle a salt and burn, no big deal.
Abby tossed the phone onto the bed beside her in frustration. She plopped down back on the bed and took a deep breath. 16 years old and her mom still treated her like she was 12.
Abby got up, padded over to the duffle bags and started getting dressed. She slipped out of her shorts and put on her skinny light blue denim jeans. She took her grey tank top off, clipped her bra on, and put her navy blue tank top on with a dark red and navy blue plaid shirt over it. Her typical outfit. She grabbed her phone and saw a text message from Jenna.
Jenna: Who is this?
Abby looked at the message with confusion. New message.
Jenna: Is this Jenna s daughter? Is your name Abby?
Abby was kind of getting freaked out by the messages. Was her mom playing a trick on her?
Abby: Mom, stop playing jokes on me. Now hurry up salt and burn the bones and get the hell out of there.
Jenna: Abby, this is Dean Winchester. What your mom was hunting wasn't a ghost, it was a demon. I need you to tell me where you are. You re in danger.
Why would mom have this Dean Winchester guy text me off of her phone? Abby thought to herself. Then it clicked. Her mom was dead.
Abby: I m at the Robert s Motel, room 23. Knock 3 times and say your name or I ll shoot.
Jenna: You a hunter?
Abby didn't reply. She didn't want to admit it. Her mom had finally died. But she was in a better place now. That s what they always say right, she's in Heaven? Jenna always told her that the Angels were watching over them. She never told Abby why.
Abby got her gun off the nightstand and sat next to the door with her phone in her hands. She curled herself up into a ball and cried. Her mom finally had it better than her. They were more like sisters than mother and daughter.
Abby remembered the first time Jenna had bought her a gun. It was the Glock 22 that she held in her hands. It was Abby s 13th birthday and Jenna thought that it was a good time for Abby to protect herself.
"Mom where are we going?" Abby said to her mom.
"It s for your birthday." Jenna looked down at Abby. "You've been saying that you want a gun for about 3 years now. So here we are." Jenna motioned to a gun store, Bob s Gun & Tackle Shop Inc.
"Mom, you didn't have to buy me a new gun. I would have been fine with one of your old ones." Abby looked at the store with shock.
"You re 13 now. You deserve a new one, not a hand-me-down." Jenna walked up and opened the door for Abby to walk through. "Well you coming?"
Abby's thoughts were interrupted by 5 bangs on the door. She told Dean 3 not 5. That wasn't Dean at the door.
