I don't own Supernatural or any of their characters.. Damn shame.
This is my own personal twist on an 'I Am' poem. I had to write one in class, and well, that sucks because anything that involves 'The Evil Place' sucks, but I liked the concept of the poem.
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I am an idiot. I never saw what I was turning my boys into. Something that Mary would have never wanted, soldiers of a battle that isn't there own.
I wonder what life would have been like if I had entered Sammy's room one minute earlier. Would Dean and Sam be happy? If Mary hadn't of died, would Dean still be just protective of Sam? Would he kill for the both of us? Would Sammy be married to the beautiful girl he lost the night he felt my pain? Would he have the normal life he had always wanted? With a white house, blue shutters, a picket fence with angelic kids playing in the front yard? Probably, but wondering what life would have been only distracts me from what it is. A disaster.
I hear a high pitch scream. I know I should probably be paying attention to that scream, but instead I am stuck on wondering. Like I said before, wondering distracts you.
I see the damned spirit coming at me. Doing what I always do I fight. Picking up my rifle full of rock salt I aim and pull the trigger. Of course I never miss.
I want.. What do I want? I have no idea. No, that's not true, I want Mary back. I want everything I had once had, but can never have again. I never understood why people want what they can't have. I do now.
I am an idiot who is going to get himself killed before he turns 45. Depressing thought, huh?
I pretend. Whoa, wait, pretend? I don't pretend what is pretending going to do? I can pretend that none of this happened all I want, but when I wake up from that fantasy world I would just break even more then I already have. A broken hunter, it's not really surprising. All hunters of the supernatural are broken, right? I mean why else would they dedicate their lives to something that they could never truly end? Evil will always be there. Everything we do is pointless in the end. All the people we save along the way, though.. Maybe that means something.
I feel empty. I have felt that way since the day my wife died. Only an empty sad, sad man could raise their children the way I did. I don't feel regret, though. Both of my sons have grown into fine young men. Truly, together I think they will be the only two broken hunters who can end all of this. That's a feeling I have always had. Ever since Dean was born I knew he had a purpose. When I had the same feeling when Sammy was born, I knew.. I just knew they would be apart of something big.
I touch the scar that is on the back of my neck. I know that my sons have double the scars I do. Which makes my stomach turn. They started hunting when they were children. They weren't as capable to protect themselves as well. I remember the first major wounds that left scars on both of my sons, and I remember who gave them to my boys. Those creepy crawlers are no longer living of course, I killed em' both right after they dared to touch my kids. It wasn't painless either. I don't usually try and torture the demons, spirits or whatever the hell we are fighting. I just go in and get it over with. Pain was never really my intention, just to put them to death.
I worry that one day Sam will be me. I never noticed it before. Dean would always point it out, saying that we were both stubborn jackasses.. He was kidding about the jackasses thing.. I think. Dean was right and it surprises me now how right he was. It shows clearly now, it was faint before but now the similarities are blinding. Sam lost Jessica just like I lost Mary and he has taken it the same way. Badly, he would die for the cause, which isn't a good thing. If that weren't bad enough he will probably end up almost getting himself killed, but of course his big strong protect will jump in before that happens.
I cry every year on one particular day. Not the day Mary died, though. It was the night that I turned my son into a killer. I took Dean out on his first hunt. He did good, too good if you ask me. Some would say he was a born hunter, but I know it isn't true. I molded him that way.
I am what I will always be. A broken hunter, a miserable father, and a husband who couldn't save his wife for anything.
I understand now, that this was probably always out of my hands. Sammy and Dean they were meant for something else, for a fight that none of us can imagine being in. Everyone around them, they were just pawns in a game that were set to shape my sons' destiny. Mary, Jessica, Meg, all the demons, me.. We were here for only one reason, because some god, or whatever you want to say, set us on this earth to lead them on their path.
I say that it is ridiculous that we had been used like that. That so much blood has been spilled for two young men. It wasn't fair to sacrifice a few hand picked souls for this fight. I say we just save everyone. But in my head I say I'm being ignorant.
I dream of a life where there is no evil. Doesn't everybody dream of their own personal utopia, though? As a hunter I should know better, know that this world could never be that perfect. I have seen too much to be that naive.
I try and tell them what they are capable of. They both stare at me like I'm a madman. Dean makes a crack about me needing to go in a looney bin. We can always depend on Dean for his humor. That's one thing that will never change.
I hope that one day my sons won't be stuck in this hell forever. I hope that one day they will be able to stop fighting and be happy. I know, though, that it will be awhile 'til that happens. The only rest my sons will get is in heaven.
I am a father of heroes. I am a father of warriors, supernatural soldiers, and protectors of the innocent. I am a proud father of two protectors, soldiers, warriors, heroes. I have raised them the best I could, and now I will have to lay back and let them do whatever it is they were born to do.
