"I have to go, Katie. I have business to do," John Winchester sat on the edge of his daughter's twin size bed by the open window by which he had entered.
"But daddy, why do you have to go? Why can't you stay longer?"
John just sighed and shook his head.
"Daddy, why do you always have to leave? I only get to see you on my birthday. Why can't I ever tell mommy that you visit me?"
"It's better this way, Katie, safer," John replied. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart."
John stood and leaned over Katie, tucking her into bed. "Happy eighth birthday," he whispered, kissing her little brunette head.
Katie started to pout but before she could say anything more, John was gone.
She never saw him again.
She knew it wasn't going to happen. John was never going to magically show up after nine years of absence. Yet, Katie still sat on her bed by her gaping bedroom window on the night of her seventeenth birthday.
"Nope, nothing. Of course not," Katie mumbled to herself after glancing at the clock on her bedside table and seeing that it was already four o'clock in the morning. "I don't even know why I get my hopes up. He's such a loser. He never cared."
Katie looked down at her scarred wrist and let out a sigh of anguish. Once again John had let her down.
Katie was all alone. Her mom was working late again in order to earn some extra money that was well needed and Katie didn't have any siblings. She also didn't really have any friends since she was stubborn in nature and didn't play well with others.
Katie lay her head on her pillow and closed her eyes, hoping for better days. She was cradling the knife John had given her on her eighth birthday to her chest.