Speeding down the highway, with my brother by my side, killing another bad after bad, is that really how my life's going to go? There has to be more, something. Even if I don't, Sam deserves more than this, but it's not really about that anymore, we both know he and I are in too deep to crawl back out. But maybe…I don't know what's brought this on, really, I don't. Sam's supposed to be the bitch, not me. Why the hell am I thinking about normal. Hunter's don't get normal, it's not in the freaking job description. It's simple, we hunt and save, or die trying. Would things have been any different if Mom didn't make the deal? Perhaps we could've had that normal, the full apple-pie life, complete with the perfect little house and white picket fence. Or maybe the road would've always led to where we are now, 'cause God give a damn the detours and side roads we took. The closest I've been to that normal, was Lisa and Ben, but look at how that turned out. Didn't take long for all of it to go to crap, did it?... Whatever, we're in the game now, there's no point in pondering about the what's and why's, the sons of bitches to blame for the shitty hand we've been dealt with. We were never supposed to live that normal. With our luck? Ha. Forget it. But crap, after all we've been through, there's gotta be something more. Sure, I may be naïve to think that we'll survive long enough to find that something, but we're still alive now, aren't we? I know that this life often ends bloody, gutted by a werewolf, sucked dry by a vamp, you name it, hunters don't get the happy ending. I'm lucky to have been alive this long, but damn, why not try?