The bodies of two men were recovered...police are asking for the public's assistance
I woke up feeling very uneasy this morning. I couldn't put a name to it, it was just my gut feeling that today things would change and not in a good way.
Dragging myself out of bed, I put on the coffee, hit the bathroom and got the morning paper.
As I sat at the kitchen table, impatiently waiting for the coffee to finish perking, I idly started flipping through the newspaper. A small item on page 3 of the city section caught my eye.
"The bodies of two young men were recovered from an abandoned building late Tuesday, no identification was found on either body. The police are asking for the public's assistance..."
My stomach churned, as I went on to read the descriptions of the men and committed the contact number to memory. I knew who these two guys were, with devastating sureness.
Unless you had ever required their services, you would not have known about these warriors, fighting to keep the balance of good over evil in our universe. Theirs had not been a chosen path, it had been selected for them, long ago, through a family tragedy. They once told me, it was what they did and so they did it, travelling around the country, in the beloved Impala, fighting the good fight.
I knew the abandoned building the paper was referring to and decided to check that out first. I'm no detective, but I had insider knowledge, so to speak, of what to look for and try and figure out what may have happened to the brothers.
I got dressed, grabbed some coffee to go and drove over. The first thing I noticed was that there was no police tape or activity around the building, the second thing I noticed was that the Impala had been stripped down, leaving it a blank shell of what I knew it had been. The love and care that had been shown it, was no where in evidence now. The tears were coming quicker, as I made my way to the building.
The place was stark, bare and gray, covered in animal feces and junked out pieces of furniture. As I made my way around the building and through its various doors, I was sure I heard crying from some distance location. I tried to shake off the feeling, as I proceeded down to the basement and there right before me, left no doubt, of who had been here and what they were up to. Rock salt residue and tracing were evident, as was a small pile of ashes against the far wall. There was no evidence of the guns the boys normally used, but there were two small pouches close by, which contained the rock salt. They'd clearly been doing what they did, to keep us safe, at the cost of their own lives.
As I turned away, I heard the crying again and followed it's path. A teenage boy of perhaps 17, was sitting against the far wall, knees bent, head down. As I approached, he looked up at me, tears streaming. Recognition lit in both of our eyes. The brothers had helped me once and had clearly helped this young boy as well. "They died trying to save me" was all he said. I came to sit beside him and took his hand. "Don't take that guilt upon yourself, they would not want that, I can assure you" I said firmly, as he leaned his head against my shoulder and we both cried for who and what had been lost.
He wanted to stay longer down in that place of death, I wanted to go and get the brothers. I left him there, to his own misery, as I wearily trudged back up the stairs to my car.
I called the number, lied, and said I believed it was my two brothers who were listed in the paper. I was given the location of the morgue where the bodies were being held and the detective said he would meet me there.
My heart was racing and my body's pulse points were in overdrive, as I sat in the plastic chair surrounded by plastic plants, in a place where people came to claim their dead.
Once the detective arrived and I showed my id, which he barely glanced at, we were led down a long dimly lite hall to the room at the end. I took a deep breath before following the other two in.
Two still bodies, lying on steel metal gurneys, greeted me. "It's them" I confirmed to the detective and morgue director and then asked for some time alone with the guys.
As I looked down and between the brothers, I could not phantom how this was anything but very, very wrong. No smiling dimples from one or a cocky expression from the other, were evident, and never would be again. Two lives stopped, when the world needed these type of individuals the most. Two fun loving and caring brothers, taken, their kind never to be seen again. The end of their lives, signified the end of the family name. A family with so much hope and promise for the future, a mere twenty plus years ago, were all gone now.
Beside each of the boys, on small metal trays, were their personal belongings. One held a necklace, a ring and two strings, signifying the older brother status bracelet, along with a used wallet. While the other tray contained the one string, signifying the younger brother status and a money clip, with the initials SW engraved into it.
As I opened the wallet, I knew the photo I would find in there, the one that was much loved, dog-eared and had been taped and re-taped together so often. It was of the four of them, taken many years ago, before life robbed them of their joy, a family unawares of what the passage of time would hold for them. I slammed the wallet closed.
As I left the room and walked back up that long hall, I met with the detective and morgue director once again, finalizing details that must be made in times of death. My mind was swimming and the morgue director's voice sounded like an annoying insect in my mind. "Sandra? Did you hear me? Sandra?" I looked over at him and said I had. "I'll take care of the announcement" I confirmed as I turned and walked away from them, not caring if I appeared rude, the realization of what was happening, hitting hard.
As I got back to my place, I pulled out a writing tablet, set down a box of kleenex and poured more coffee. I was to go through many variations of that theme on this day, as words were written and re-written, sheets crunched up and tossed, kleenexs got soggy and coffee turned cold.
The announcement would read:
"The world has lost two of its unsung heroes today.
By simply knowing them, you would have become a better person. You may not have known it, but you were in the company of angels, when you were with these two brothers.
Evil has gained a stronger foothold on this day, our radiant warriors are no longer here to protect us.
Godspeed dear boys, thank you for being you.
How lucky I am to have loved these two so much, that saying goodbye to them is so damn hard.
Theirs names were Sam and Dean Winchester."
Author's Note: This story has been haunting me for days now, so I felt I had better write it. Please let me know what you thought of it. Thank you.
