Story of a Hunter
It's funny how life goes, one day you were just a little girl playing on the play ground, going down and up slides. Then just as suddenly it can all turn gray. You start loosing that happiness in your life and start relying on hope to guide the way to that happiness you once had. That's how it goes, that's how it is for every one and some don't suffer as much as others. Sometimes I think it is we the hunters that help this world not loose all its hope. Even with all the evil that surrounds us there is still a dim candle light threw all the black. We hunters sometimes loose are hope; we hunters are found by our own tragedies and never forget. That's how it was for the Winchester's. That's how its always been for me. Ever sense my parents died by the hands of demon, I have never ever forgotten, sense my 10 year old eyes set sites on those black eyes. Every day of my damned life is set on killing every demon one by one. Until one day I will come face to face with the one, that single one who took away my happiness.
Sents that terrible time of my parent's death I had been living with my foster parents. Latter on i made a friend called Jo, she brought meout of my shell because after the my parents death i had become almost mute. Jo though took that all away and my foster parents helped some too. When i was a little olderthpough i finally met Jo's mother, Ellen. At 16, i walked into the Harvelle's Roadhouse Bar, where Ellen worked, so me and Jo would pass by there from time to time. It was also there that I found out what the bar was mostly fool of..hunters and not just any hunter but demon hunters. Ellen and her husband were hunters and as time passed I became one too. I remember when Ellen used to tell me the life of a hunter was not the life that I would want to live but the revenge that I held so deep inside for my parent's death drove me on, forward, into the darkness again.
When I was around twenty years old, I had made a nice amount of hunter friends and with them I killed my fair share of demons. I remember one of my last hunts with a good friend of mine, Dean Winchester. He like his father was a hunter and becoming a great one too. Well we went after a demon that held major similarities to the demon that had killed my parents. We should have not been out by our selves but I was filled with revenge and Dean, well Dean was being a good friend trying to keep me safe and follow along making sure I didn't get myself killed.
I try to think of that cold and foggy night but I can't because all I see is fog and the fight is just a rush of blurrs infront of me. The only thing I know of that night is of what people have told me, I was knocked unconches and have been in accomma ever sense never to wake up until now, five years latter.
So that is my story, for now…