"Okay Dean, now I'm going to ask you to draw a picture. It could be of anything really… just try to make it… positive. I don't want to see any more monsters from you." said the harsh, smoky voice of the therapist sitting across the dimly lit room.
The eight year old boy grabbed a handful of markers and a piece of printer paper and sat them on the table, which he then knelt beside.
He uncapped an orange marker, beginning to draw a potato-shaped object in the center of the paper. His small hands moved in brisk flicks, swiping the pigment across the white sheet.
"Oh, that's such a cute dog!" said the woman, who was well aged despite being only 57 years old.
"I'm not finished." said the boy with a scowl. He went back to concentrating on his drawing, picking up the brown marker and forming rectangles overlapping either side of the orange blob. followed by two more smaller rectangles sticking straight out of the sides of the figure.
Next he went in with the blue, putting a small stripe in the center of the form, in a manner that almost resembled a tie.
Lastly, he grabbed the black marker. With that, he added appendages to the bottom of the shape, followed by two dots and a u-curved line on the top half of the drawing, and above that a few strokes directly at the top.
"Oh I see! It's Mr. Potato Head!" For how much she was getting paid, this lady was not helping.
"I'm still not finished." growled the boy, staring intently at his artwork, the marker lingering just above. The ink touched down, drenching the paper with heavy strokes on either side of the character as Dean forcibly completed his masterpiece. "He needed his wings."
"Oh, this one's beautiful! I'll pin it up on my board!"
"No, wait!" Dean panicked, reaching for his drawing and holding it close to his chest. "I wanna keep it to hang by my bed."
"Well of course dear, it sure is a beautiful piece of art."
"He is, isn't he." Dean blushed, a toothy grin filling his cubby cheeks.
"What's his name, sweetheart?"
"Castiel."