This was inspired by the song Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart
A year from now we'll all be gone
Dean takes another swig of whisky from the crusty bottle. Discarded broken glass lay around him as he sits propped against a water stained wall in some creaky, unknown motel room.
All our friends will move away
He was alone, he had no one.
His mother, dead.
Father, dead.
Bobby, dead.
And Sam…
And they're goin' to better places
But our friends will be gone away
Another swig, gulp, He hoped they were all in heaven together. He hoped the best for them. But he knew he would go to hell. He would take that any day over alone and alive.
Nothin' is as it has been
His gun lay on the floor arms-length away, he reaches for it.
And I miss your face like hell
He glares down at it as he grips it in his hand and brings it to his lap. His vision blurs over and then clears when the tear falls.
And I guess it's just as well
He sits down the bottle of whisky with a thud and clicks the safety off the gun. The gun, now lined straight with his neck, has the barrel just pushed under his chin. His head is tilted up and he stares at the ceiling expressionless as another tear rolls down his cheek.
His finger rests on the trigger.
But I miss your face like hell
The sound of the shot wakes the guests, but he has no reason to care because, Dean is now dead.