Rosalie Winchester always loved her twin and older brother. She was the light of their lives. Until she wasn't. This is-was her story.
It started when she was 11. She had asked her big brother to put her hair into ponytails and he did so happily. She'd gone to school, feeling amazing because dean did her hair. Then all the boys and girls mocked her. She didn't understand why they said the things they did but she was saddened by them. Things like, 'you look like a three year old' or 'got if I had hair that ugly I'd want to die'. She didn't understand one bit. Hadn't dean said it was pretty? Hadn't he said she looked great?
After school she had walked with Sam and Dean back to the motel, neither noticing her hair down and covering her face and her tears. She'd gone right in and locked herself in the bathroom. She had looked into the mirror as tears streamed down her face and brushed her ugly hair out of her face. Maybe that girl was right. Her hair was ugly. So was everything else about her. Her sparkling green eyes suddenly looked dull and ugly. She looked so ugly. How hadn't she noticed before?
She studied herself in the mirror, looking down. She was ugly everywhere. She lifted her shirt and pinched her skin. She cringed. So much fat. If you were fat you were ugly. So she thought that maybe if she stopped being fat maybe she would be pretty. She left the bathroom and curled up on her bed. A while later dean asked if she wanted some food. "I'm not hungry." She replied quietly and tried to sleep.
If only Sam or Dean had seen her tears that day. If only they had comforted her and told her they were wrong. If only they had told her what a beautiful little girl she was. If only they had done those things then maybe she would still be alive.
She never told her brothers her thoughts. She only tried to be prettier. She never put her hair up in ponytails again. She didn't eat much. She pretended everything was fine because she didn't want to burden her family. She had always been bullied in school, but she never let it get to her until then. She still acted like her happy normal self whenever her brothers were around, or whenever - rarely - her father was around. She remembered the day she first self harmed.
She had heard a few girls who were supposedly her friends, talk trash about her and tell secrets to people. She had trusted them and that was what broke her. She'd known what she was going to do since it happened. After school she once again walked to yet another motel with her brothers. "Hey little flower, what's up?" Dean had asked his then 13 year old sister. She shrugged and kept walking.
She walked into the room, discreetly grabbing her blade and slipping into the bathroom. She locked the door and stood in front of the mirror and yanked her sleeve up. She shakily held the blade up and stared at her wrist. Had she really wanted that? Should she really have done it? She decided that before she could stop herself she would just do it. She dug the thin metal into her wrist and pulled it across her skin. She watched as blood began dripping from the wound and sliced another line. Then another and another. Soon her arm was littered with lines dripping in red.
She didn't understand why people had done that to feel better until she did it herself. The pain she was inflicting on herself was her own. Nobody else was hurting her, it was all herself. She jolted back to reality as someone knocked on the door. "You okay Flower? You've been in there a while." Dean called. "Uh yeah, be there in a minute." She called back, flushing the toilet and running the water. She stuck her arm underneath the stream and pulled it away. She pulled her sleeve back down and tucked her knife away.
She turned off the faucet and opened the bathroom door, cracking a fake smile at her brothers and laying down again. She felt her stomach grumble as she began to drift off. "Not hungry." She whispers. If only they had noticed her lie. If only they had seen the little drop of blood on the bathroom floor. If only they had saved her.
Maybe if they tried, they could've saved her, but by then she was too far gone.
She remembered that every day she would lock herself in the bathroom and slice at her arm and legs. She was littered with scars that made her think she was even uglier. That made her cut even more, and angrily. She always wore jeans and her jacket and it broke her heart that Sam and dean never noticed. She hoped desperately they would see the lines covering her body and help her. But it was also her greatest fear.
If they found out what would they do? Would they lock her away? Would they yell at her and tell her she was insane? She didn't want to find out. So she didn't reach out. She kept her dark thoughts locked inside her head and acted. She acted like she was okay and they believed her show.
She knew she wanted help. Deep inside she did. She wanted her brothers to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. She wanted it to be true. She knew she wouldn't die on a hunt. She wouldn't die of old age. It wouldn't be an accident. She would kill herself someday and she knew it was true. Maybe not that day, and maybe not the next. Maybe not even for years but it would happen, that much she was sure of.
She remembered the day she realized that. It had been long before she was aware of it. It was those damn pigtails. If only they had noticed her tears and saved her precious soul. But they hadn't and her soul turned dark. She thought she had a while before she left the earth. She thought it would be years before she was driven so far into the dark she wouldn't want to come back up.
When she and Sam were 18 she saw him read the acceptance letter and glow with happiness. She knew then that he would leave her. She thought she could be happy for him, for finally getting away. But the night he told their father and Dean, his father told him never to come back. He had stormed out and she raced after him, tears streaming down her face. She had begged him to stay, telling him she couldn't take it if he left her. He apologized profusely. "I'm sorry flower, I have to go." He had said. It broke her already shattered heart when he turned and left.
She went back inside and lied down on her bed. Her father left shortly after and dean lied on the other bed angrily. She knew then and there she was done. Done with the pain and the secrets. She sat up and wiped her tears. "Dean?" She asked quietly, a small part of her hoping he would stop her. "What?" He had snapped. She flinched. "I...uh... nevermind. Goodbye Dean." She said sadly. He hadn't noticed that she said goodbye instead of goodnight, and if he had he didn't say anything.
"I love you Dean." She whispered. "Yeah whatever." He had sighed. She felt the tears sting her eyes once again and grabbed her blade. He was facing the other way so she didn't have to hide it. She stood and walked to the bathroom. She locked herself in and pulled her sleeves up. She sat in the tub and smiled sadly. Sam left her and so did her father. Then dean ignored her. They never noticed her cries for help and they cost her her life.
She felt the tears steadily cascade down her face as she gripped her knife. She dug it into her wrist and gasped in pain. She dragged it up her arm, crying in pain. She shakily did the same to her other arm, sobbing at the pain. "Hey Ro, you alright?" Dean called, having heard her cries. She didn't answer. "Rosalie?" He called again, growing concerned. She watched her blood gush from her arms and pool under her. It soaked her clothes and mixed with her tears.
"Rosalie?" Dean called from right outside the door. All he heard was her sobbing. He becomes worried. She could've been hurt! So he broke the door down and the sight in front of him horrified him. "Rosalie!" He screamed, rushing to her. She weakly looked up at him. "I'm sorry." She whispered weakly. He pulled her out, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, only succeeding in getting himself covered in it. He felt tears in his eyes and barely noticed them streaming down his face.
He hugged his sister to him, not being able to do anything. He sobbed as he held her. She weakly reached for his face and he held her hand there. "Don't leave me! Please please don't leave me!" He begged. "I've wanted to for so long Dean. I just don't want this pain anymore." She rasped and with one last smile, the tether between life and death snapped.
Her breathing stopped and her eyes unfocused. Her body fell limp but he still clutched her hand to his face as he sobbed. She couldn't be dead, she just couldn't! But she was. She was gone. "No no no! Come on little flower! Rosa! Rosalie wake up!" He shouted. But she didn't. He finally let go and her bloody arm fell over her chest. She was gone. And she would be forever.
He didn't know how long he sat there, just that he had to tell Sam and his father. He shakily pulled out his phone, smearing it with blood and raised it to his ear, calling their father. He didn't answer. He called sam. No answer. He left a voicemail. "H-hey Sammy. I g-get that you're m-mad but p-please come back. S-something happened and I don't know what to d-do. Oh god... I-Its Rosalie, sam." He stuttered out, still sobbing and tossed the phone away.
Sam saw his phone ring and sighed, annoyed. Didn't dean understand he wanted to be left alone? He was out. He let it go to voicemail and assumed dean would call again. But he didn't. He left a message but didn't call again. Sam rolled his eyes and lifted the phone to his ear, listening. His brows immediately creased. Dean was crying? "H-hey Sammy. I g-get that you're m-mad but p-please come back. S-something happened and I don't know what to d-do. Oh god... I-Its Rosalie, sam." Then it ended and he was horrified.
Something had happened to his twin? He raced back to the motel and could hear dean sobbing from outside the room. He burst inside and saw the bathroom door open. He ran in and his eyes widened. Dean was sitting there crying, holding Rosalie who was limp and bloody, staring at nothing. "Oh god!" Sam exclaimed. "W-we gotta get her to a hospital!" Dean shook his head and continued to hold her.
Sam was confused. Their sister was bleeding out and he didn't want to go to the hospital? But then he studied her closer and his breath hitched. She wasn't breathing. The blood had stopped flowing but was covering her body. It stemmed from the long gashes on her arms. Gashes she inflicted on herself. His body racked with sobs as he fell to his knees. He crawled to her and sobbed. This couldn't be happening. She was supposed to be alive!
They both stayed like that for as long as they could. When their father returned to them sitting there with silent tears trailing down their faces as they held there dead sister, he had broken down. And they all sat there, a broken family. They lost their little flower.
If only they had payed more attention. If only they had saved her before she wilted. Damn those stupid pigtails. For they cost her life.
Actions