At sixteen there were three things I had figured out so far in life. Number one: once a marine always a marine, this fascinating little tidbit was picked up after sixteen years of observing my father an ex- marine gone hunter. Number two: a good solider never makes waves, he simply follows orders and buckles down and bites his tongue, doesn't ask questions just goes with it. And third and finally unless you're dying you suck it up, push through it, and then it's all mind over matter.
Though I love to learn, theses three life rules are a lessons I'm not interested in learning. All I want is some small piece of what everyone else has. That best friend that has known you since you were born or that hook up, that you had the first time you got drunk, that all these years later is still in love with you. Or that ex-high school football star still stuck in the small town because he got his high school sweetheart pregnant. But instead I'm stuck with a trigger happy brother who totally buys in to all of dad's bull shit about how it's our duty to avenge my mother's death. Kill the SOB that pinned her to the celling tore her insiders out and burned her to death. While it's sad and the thing that killed my mother it still walking amongst us on earth or in Hell killing it won't bring my mother back.
So here I am beginning the same old song and dance; new town, new home (if you can call some grimy appartment home), new school, same reason and excuses. Two weeks in to the school semester my dad packed us up, and moved us to some ass end of nowhere town in the backwoods of Virginia, starting another school midway through the year. It sucks always being the new kid but being the new kid in the middle of the year after cliques have been established, alliances made, and labels handed down takes on a whole new level of sucking.
We've been here for three weeks now, dad and Dean have been working on a hunt a few towns over and surprisingly things were good between all of us. Sure I was pissed that dad made us move again just as I was getting settled in our last place but for once; dad wasn't totally up my ass which resulted in less nights ruined by a shouting match with him and less stress for Dean in the long run. So there was an upside to this shit-hole town.
So here we are on a Sunday night after an evening of training, eating pizza watching Lethal Weapon, the first one, while dad and Dean drank their beers, all and all a relaxing night. And apparently a night I needed, I guess I began to drift off about twenty minutes into the movie, my hectic week catching up to me. Between school, training, homework, and research for the hunt, it wasn't surprising that I was exhausted. Next thing I know I'm being shaken awake by my father the credits rolling.
"Sam?" I don't want to open my eyes, I feel strange, but it's probably due to a lack of sleep. I shrug off his hand and pry open weary eyes. "Hit the sack. Kiddo, everything will still be here tomorrow." He sighed pushing me towards the room Dean and I share and collapse on my bed, Dean rolls in freshly showered towel drying his short sandy hair.
"What's happening Sammy?" he asks as he pulls an old faded black tee shirt over his head, when I don't respond he shoots me a concerned look, a look I know all too well. "You okay Sam?" I look at him with bleary eyes and shrug.
"Might have a cold coming on, nothing I can't sleep off." I mumble as I flop over so I'm laying down on my stomach and burry my head under my pillow. That "cold" has different plans however I awake with a start, my stomach twisting and turning sickeningly. I sat up in bed, letting my body decide whether or not I was going to throw up, the sour tasting spit filling my mouth, being the answer. I slid out of bed and quietly make my way past Dean's bed, thankful that I hadn't woke him up and slipped into the bathroom. And waited sure enough my jaw began to tingle, my throat got tight and I felt bile begin to creep up my throat. I swallow hard trying to hold off the inevitable, unfortunately to my dismay I could only hold off for so long, within minutes I was heaving into the toilet, surrendering my dinner from that night before, despite my best efforts. I heaved and gagged till I could only dry heave. Miserable and alone, I wish Dean were with me, he always makes it better. He knows just what to do, hell I feel so shitty I'd even settle for dad at this point. Which is proof in and of its self just how sick I am.
TBC Please review this is my first attempt so tell me what y'all think.