"Miss?"
Lana looked up at her hands and tried to act professional even though her brain was everywhere else but here.
"Yes, I'm sorry," She forced a smile, "How can I help you?" Another waitress-Julie- came up behind her and shook her head, "I got this one", she said as she motioned the couple to follow her.
Lana hated this. She knew that her coworkers were being helpful, trying to take her mind off of it all, but she found it made her feel small and useless, like she couldn't do anything. Maybe that was true to an extent- this was the one week a year she felt like she would fall apart.
Seven years on and she still had no answers or clues as to what happened. She was still stuck here in this stupid, small town asking questions with no responses.
"Her boyfriend went missing a few years back, him and his mom. This is the anniversary week of it." She heard Julie whisper to the couple who nodded sympathetically. Lana clenched her fists and tried to contain her anger. Which, to be honest, she wasn't very good at. The last week she saw Adam he was acting strange. When she went to pick him up for class that Monday he acted like he was trying to be Adam but couldn't quite get the part was robotic, odd.
He didn't go to any other classes that week.
The very last time she saw him he was walking into a hotel room with two older guys and pretended not to see her. After that, he was gone. She was the one that found the house and called the police in a panic. Furniture was thrown everywhere, blood on the walls and floor. The place reeked of panic. Even after the forensics guys tested the blood for DNA they came up with nothing. No matches. They just knew it wasn't Adams or his mom's.
God, she couldn't forget the sight of all that blood.
The house sat empty for years until the bank finally bought it and turned it into a rental. She changed her driving route just so she wouldn't have to look at it. She couldn't acknowledge that Adam was probably dead and she was the one that found the proof.
"Lana, go home. You don't need to be here," Julie said quietly behind her, "Everyone understands."
She stood up and grabbed the cleaning rag from the seat next to her, "No, I can't. If I go home I will just sit there and think about it. Let me clean."
She walked over an already clean table and used the rag with more force than was needed. The strange thing was that she wasn't in love with Adam, not really. She loved him as much as a 19-year-old girl in college could love her boyfriend. In fact, she was pretty sure if he was still here they would have broken up by now. She didn't love him like they do in the storybooks, and that was okay with her because he probably felt the same. Adam was kind and good, the sort of guy who respected his mom and brought you home on time. He liked baseball and hockey and would have made a damn fine doctor one day. Sure, he had a sarcastic streak a mile wide but it was more entertaining than anything. Adam needed someone that was just as dependable and sweet as him. Lana knew she did not fit that bill.
So why was she so stuck on his death?
The question hit Lana hard, but it was one that she had often wondered. Something about the house, the blood and the fact that both Adam and his mother just vanished never sat right with her. The police and the town just accepted the murder and never questioned it. They wanted to move on, get over it. But Lana couldn't. She felt in her bones that something was off and so every year she mourned the unanswered questions she had right along with the boyfriend she lost.
The day dragged on and Lana found herself delegated to doing work that revolved around not speaking to people. By the time 8 o'clock rolled around she was shoved out the door and told to go home.
The night was cool, as most early summer nights were in Wisconsin, and the sun was still in the process of setting. She made her way to her old Bronco and slid inside before starting the Beast up. She knew she was able to get a new car if she wanted to, but there was something about cars like this. Old, used, left to rot. They had a story to them- a life- and that was something you couldn't buy with the new plastic cars they kept rolling out. They lacked a soul. While the Beast may not look pretty and took a while to turn over in the winter, no one could deny the fact that he had soul.
Lana turned on the Beast and pulled out of the parking lot. She stopped at the four-way and, to her own surprise, she made the left hand turn and made her way to Adam's house. Her hands started sweating the closer she got and by the time she was idling outside of the house her heart was beating wildly. Lana didn't look up from her steering wheel for a few minutes. Instead, she noticed the stitching and rips in the fabric of the wheel, wondering how all those little gouges got there, what was their story? She wondered why the makers of the Beast decided on a butterscotch color for the leather over any other kind.
Does anyone actually like butterscotch?
Finally, she looked up. The house seemed harmless now. It had been newly painted white as if that would help purify the place. Someone had planted flowers around the front porch and put up a little sign that read "God Bless All Who Enter." That made her scoff. God surely hadn't blessed the last family who lived there. In fact, God seemed to have turned his back.
Suddenly words filled her head. Words said over an empty coffin in a funeral service I promise to find you. I promise to figure out what happened.
Seven years of words and nothing to show for it. Lana slammed the heels of her hands against the steering wheel with intensity. Guilt and shame surrounded her like a dense fog. Her teeth clenched as she railed on the old leather and metal. She wouldn't cry, hell, maybe she couldn't cry, but she could feel anger. That sort of anger that simmered and stewed quietly until it exploded out. She'd been angry for years and every once in awhile it just sort of slipped out and refused to go back in.
She placed her head on the steering wheel and glanced once more over at the house before turning the car on. She'd hold on to the anger if it meant she'd find him. There was no way she would stop looking now.
Lana's house was small, but that is exactly how she liked it. Because the rent was so cheap she was able to stash most of her money away. She unlocked the front door and threw her keys into a bowl that sat on a side table before walking towards the bathroom. After a shower that was a little too cold she plopped down on the couch and pulled out a book. Within ten minutes she had fallen asleep.
She saw Adam standing in the middle of an overgrown cemetery. The grass was a dull golden brown and the skies sat heavy with gray. At first, she wasn't sure if she was dreaming-it all seemed so real.
He didn't seem to notice she was there as she walked up to him. Lana whispered his name, almost scared that if she said it too loud he would vanish. Adam didn't move or seem to hear her. She reached out a trembling hand and touched his arm, "Adam?"
"I'm not sure if it's you or not." He answered.
His voice made her want to sob, "Why wouldn't it be me?"
Adam turned to face her but kept his eyes on the ground, " I've been here before, you know. A thousand times before. You always come, or my mom, or sometimes Sam and Dean. You never save me. You all let me fall."
Lana's stomach turned in guilt and sadness as she tried to find the words to say, "I'm...trying. Adam, I am trying to find you. I just...where do I look? It's been seven years and I still don't know where to go." She was dangerously close to crying.
"You can't find me, Lana."
"I'm stubborn."
" I'm gone."
Lana almost couldn't get the words out, "You're...are you...dead?"
Adam chuckled solemnly and he shook his head, " I wish."
Lana grabbed his arms and was shocked at how real and solid he felt. She could feel the fabric of his shirt, the muscles under it. It was as if she was actually standing next to him having this conversation. "Please, Adam. Tell me how I can find you. Where are you? Just let me bring you home."
He shook his head as his hand worried with the fabric of her shirt, "You can't Lan. I'm not lost and I'm not dead. I'm just not here. "
This was all too much for her: the way his head shook and his hair fell, how he felt under her hands, the way he was twisting the ends of her shirt. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, he still looked like Adam, but as he was all those years ago. He never aged, she couldn't even imagine him older than this. "I don't understand. Just tell me where you are."
Adam stopped playing with her hem, "You don't want to know."
"Please," she pleaded, something she would normally never do.
Adam placed his hands on her face and finally looked into her eyes. His eyes weren't his own, they were full of flames and anguish.
"I'm burning."
Lana fell to her knees, eyes still locked to Adam's. His hands were still on her face, her knees in the wet grass and then suddenly the place wasn't there. Suddenly she wasn't.
The next thing she heard was the screaming mixed with a crackling noise. Even before she opened her eyes she could feel the heat- a searing, wicked pain that engulfed her. She whipped her head up and blinked wildly trying to understand where she was. She found herself in a metallic, cruel looking cage that dangled in the midst of the screams and horror. Every so often a giant flash lit up around her so she could properly see how screwed she was. At first, she thought it was lightning but quickly she realized that instead of lightning bolts, these were made of flame and soot- great arcing bolts of them that struck from place to place.
Lana scrambled to her feet and grabbed the bars with her hands. Pain shot through them as soon as she touched them. She swore loudly as she realized that she had burned both of her palms. Is there where Adam was for the last seven years? How could he handle it?
"My, my, my. Who have we here?"
Lana swung around and faced the two men that were in the cage with her. One didn't look at all familiar but the other one looked exactly like Adam only...off. She knew somehow that it wasn't him. Neither of them took their eyes off of her and no one moved.
"Is this...Hell?" Lana knew she sounded weak, pathetic even, but a few hours ago she was sweeping up a diner in Wisconsin and now she was in some hovering death trap. At this point she didn't care how she sounded.
The Adam look alike cocked his head and took a step closer, " How are you here?"
"I don't even know where here is...I mean..." This place was too much, her head felt like it was going to explode.
She was slammed up against the side of the cage, the metal burning deep into her skin, "How are you here?!"
"Michael." The other warned.
Lana tried to pull away but it was like sitting under a slab of granite. She screamed out in pain but that didn't seem to phase the man who was holding her down. The fact that he wore Adam's face made this even more disturbing.
" How did she get in here, brother? Who is she?" The man holding her down asked with an acidic tone.
Lana's body couldn't handle this pain and insanity any longer and she felt herself fading. Her eyes fluttered as her brain started to become foggy and muffled. She could make out that the man holding her down was yelling something at her but she didn't care what it was. Nothing could be worse than this. Lana closed her eyes and welcomed whatever came after this place.
Lana tossed the book across the room as she flung to life. That dream was too real, it left a gaping hole in her heart where she could feel the sadness and pain seeping in. She stood in the middle of the room gasping for air. What was that place? Could that truly be where Adam had been this whole time?
She brought her hands to her face when a burning sensation flowed through her fists. Slowly she peeled away her fingers and was met with the sight of burn marks.
"No," Lana whispered, " no, no, this can't be happening."
She ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She looked the same: same chin-length brown hair, same hazel eyes, same too-pale skin. Nothing looked different. Her mind reminded her of that cage, she remembered being shoved up against the searing metal bars, she remembered how they burned. Lana turned her back to the mirror and slowly lifted her shirt to reveal her back.
"Oh my god," she whispered, her voice wavering.
They were there- the burns. All of them the shape and size of the bars she had been thrown against. She fell to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and sobbing uncontrollably.
In the back of her mind whispered a voice. Small, quiet, and almost lost. It sounded like him.
"Stull Cemetery…" The words bounced around in her head for a while before she comprehended what she was hearing.
Curled up on the tiles, she lifted her head and wiped her eyes.
She knew where she had to go next.
