Supernatural is not in my possession!
The stars only shine if you watch them. It's an old conundrum. "If a tree falls when no one is around, does it make a sound?" Scientists prefer to call it the uncertainty principle. I like to think of it as the universe laughing at us tiny humans, playing tricks when we aren't looking, and then making us slowly descend into madness as we wonder what's happening behind our backs.
Most people don't know much is being kept secret from them, what happens behind closed doors and inside abandoned factories. I'm not talking about shady business deals or drugs, I'm talking about monster. The ugliest sons of bitches you'll ever meet and all of them wanting nothing more than to tear your innocent little face to shreds. Me and Sammy try to kill the monsters, save all the people we can. But sometimes we can't. Sometimes we can't save them all.
We had been hunting today, a normal job, something we hadn't had in a while. A little boy in a town in Middle-of-nowhere, Kansas, had been screaming about the ghosts in his closet. Saying not to let them out, saying they would kill him. That little boy had still been alive this morning, when Sam and I had driven into town, all guns and steel and confidence. When we met him, he gave me a strawberry. I had grinned at him, gently putting the berry in my pocket, assuring him I was saving it for later.
"Now, show us where the nasty ghostie is," I had said. The boy seemed surprised that someone believed him. He had shown us where the ghost was. Except it hadn't been a ghost.
All the signs had led me to believe it was a ghost. We were unprepared. I should be tearing up at this point. But I don't. I don't do that anymore.
The little boy had died. Died in Sammy's arms, whispering "they were just sad." I pull the strawberry out of my pocket. It's still whole, perfectly red. I wonder why that boy had given it to me. I never thought to ask and now it was too late. My hands clench into fists and the berry he gave me explodes in my palm, the sticky juice dripping down my fingers. I don't care. All I can see is his face. Why did we let him come with us? We were the experts; we didn't need to drag him into this. And now another was dead, and one more family has to mourn a death that they don't know the true cause of.
I feel two fingers gently touch my forehead, and the face fades away. I open my eyes, seeing nothing at first. The night is dark here, where there are no buildings or streetlights. Sam doesn't know where I am. He probably thinks I'm at a bar, drinking away my sorrows.
When my eyes adjust to the darkness, the first thing I see is blue. Blue eyes that don't sleep and dark hair that never gets brushed and a tan overcoat that's much too large.
"Stop dreaming of the dead as if death itself were undone. Death still has domain in this plane," he says, voice gravely and quiet. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. I take a step back. Personal space and all. Then I look around. I don't know where I am. There are many trees. The trees are probably maples, or oaks. Actually, I don't know, basically they're big and leafy and tree-like. I've never been one for memorizing stupid things like that.
"How did you find me?"
"I can always find you. We share a prof-"
"I don't want to be here anymore."
He understands the hint, and I feel two fingers press against my forehead and a rush of air around my body. We are no longer surrounded by trees. There is flat nothingness all around us. There is nothing left, so I suppose you could say it is unpleasant. But it isn't. It's freeing
"Thank you."
A nod is the response I get, and that's enough. The world is ending, and I'm staring out at nothingness with an angel by my side. That's about as perfect as this life gets.
A/N: Yay angst! I like angst! This was a creative writing assignment that turned into fanfiction. We had to use at least five sentences from a random list. I bet you can find them, they don't fit as well as I'd like