20 years ago. Mom went in Sammy's nursury... And burned.
When Sam left for Stanford 2 years ago... Dad developed some problems. Drinking problems to be correct. I've noticed the moment he started and it killed me inside. Today was the anniversery of mom's death. Today was the day dad went out to get really out of it. We are in Washington to hunt some stupid poltergeist. Not the best day to be hunting though. Dad has already left for the bar. Took the impala (which again kills me secretly). He has been gone for hours. I'm sitting here alone in the dark just waiting in fear. I don't hate the man. Really I don't, but it's days like this when you want to be as far away from him as possible.
I don't know how long I have been dreading this moment but- "DEAN!" Crap. "Yeah dad...?" Fear in my voice. "Where the HELL is my Jack?" His voice is strong, scary. "I'm not sure... Dad." Dammit. I can hear his loud footsteps getting closer and closer. Fear settling in the pit of my stomach. "Dean. I'm not going to ask again. So where is my DAMN Jack!" He is demanding now, but I really don't know! "Uhh... Dad I rea-" I'm cut off by a stinging slap to the face. Oww! Did the basterd just friggen slap me? Damn I can feel the blood trickling out of my nose now! "Find my Jack!" He says finally as he storms out.
I don't blame him. Its the friggen beer... I think. It hurts though. I stand up and head for the mirror. My face is begining to purple. My face is smeared with blood. I need to get out of here. "Hey... Dad?" Hesitation in my voice. He doesn't seem to notice. "What?" I'm not sure how to put my words. "I'm just going to... Get you a new bottle of Jack... Ok?" He doesn't even look. "Whatever. Grab me a pack of cigarettes while your at it."
He doesn't smoke when he's sober because he has no idea he smokes when he's drunk. The smell of smoke gives me horrifying memories. Mom burning on the ceiling. When dad sobers up he see's the empty packs lying all around the floor, and gives me a lecture about how smoking can kill me. And I'm no good to people dead. I don't smoke. Never! But dad seem's to be oblivious. "Sure dad." I walk out.
I see the impala (in good shape. Thank god) and walk towards it. I climb in. I smell beer and smoke. Of course. I turn the key and it starts. Its the most beautiful sound i have heard in a while. I glance at myself in the mirror. Its either the new dark lighting from the night sky or my face is actually black and blue. I flinch. How could he do this? No time to think about that now. I don't really know where i'm going but I need to get as far away from here as possible. Next stop... Away.
