So here it begins

So, here it is. The story of my life written on nothing else but paper. I know that this is nothing special- the diary of a crazed ex hunter. The diary of a crazed man with nothing else to lose. Maybe one day, my diary, the only thing that is truly mine will be read. Maybe it will help others in my position, maybe it will cause pain, or maybe people will just laugh at the old hunter holding the pen.

Let me tell you a little bit about me: I'll sleep on a bed bed of nails, if it's exactly where I'm supposed to be. I have lived in motels all of my life, never staying in one place for very long. School to school, motel to motel, all I ever wanted was to be normal- but I guess in the end that was never going to happen. In the end, why should I question the path I was fated to follow?

Not all that long ago, everything that that I know and love was ripped away from me. I lost my brother in the final battle against the Leviathans. The only thing I lived for was gone, ripped away in an act of cruelty by the evil that had plagued the earth. My promise to Dean took control of me then, I would not look for him- I would move on and try to be normal. Easier said than done I suppose. Everything that was important to me was gone and my world now lays in ruin. What used to be prosperity, hope, dreams and much, much more in my life was vanquished in a blink of an eye. One look at the smouldering wreckage I once called my life could tell people that.

That's how everything began. So now, as I sit; with a pen in hand, writing this to you, I stare at this old piano before me, I'm wasted and wounded. I watch as the dusk slowly turns into a new dawn. The story of this piano is a tragedy really- the keys are broken, the notes are out of key, and the lyrics to its songs no longer make sense. It's like it already knows the world's story, and has prepared for the worst. It's like it's changing to suite a world that in the end, has always been fated to fall.

An empty bottle falls from my lap and smashes against the broken tiles of this ruin I call home. Well, it's truthfully nothing more than an abandoned flat I broke into really. I turn to quietly stare at the broken wreckage on the floor, the small drops of the previous night's drink spread slowly across the floor. I turned to the window, looking out at the roaring traffic four floors below. I stared down at people going about their daily business. I know this whole situation is my fault, but you can't help being bitter about how easy some people seem to have it. I mean, how is it they get the fair route in life, whilst I get nothing?

I know no-one is listening for my calls for help. I know no-one is listening to my shouts for an escape from this life I am living. Then again, this is what happens most days, I sit and watch as the world slowly passes by- second after second, minute after minute. I watch with a heavy heart as drop by drop, the liqueur bottle that is my constant companion, slowly empties.

I guess you have probably had enough of my rambling by now, so I'm going to leave this here. Until next time.

I'll see you when I get back from my next trip to hell.

My name is Sam Winchester and I want to welcome you to the horror show that is my life.