The box is full of newspaper articles that have been unevenly cut, photos, and a small contact book with barely two pages filled. All of the articles are of murders and mysterious deaths, what the hell. I start going through the photos now, there are lots of them of my mom and two men in bars smiling. God she looks so young in these maybe my age, which makes sense my mom had me when she was nineteen so one of these guys must be my father. I keep flipping through the pictures, they are all pretty much the same. Then I found one of my mom and one of the two guys kissing, whelp that must be my dad. I flip the photo over it says in my moms handwriting 'Dean and me at the road house.'
Okay I have a first name, Dean. I open the small contact book again and find a Dean Winchester listed at the bottom of the first page. There are four different numbers under his name, hopefully at least one of them still belongs to him. I turn on my phone for the first time since this morning, I have at least twenty texts all from different people. I guess news of my dead mom has spread. Some people are telling me to stay strong and others are asking where the hell I am. Shit, people probably think I was kidnapped or something, I mean I just disappeared after my mom was killed. I don't respond to anyone and just start typing the first number out of the four into my phone. It rang and rang, but nobody answered. Instead of leaving a message I tried the next number. Again no answer but I didn't hang up instead this time I listened to the greeting message.
"This is Dean's other cell, leave a message." Short and to the point, I like it.
I type in the third number and press call. The ringing begins again. I start thinking about what I would say if he actually answered, would I just say hey I'm your daughter my mother was just killed? My thoughts were cut short by the sound of a man saying "Hello." Shit he answered what do I do?
I figure I need to speak to him so I force myself to start talking, "Hello, um is this Dean Winchester?" I say in a weak voice.
"Yeah it is. Who is this? How do you have this number?" All I can think is wow I am talking to my dad right now and holy hell his voice is deep.
"My mom, you knew her about 18 years ago. I found your number in her bedroom."
"What's her name?" The man asked me.
"Catherine Lucas." I say, "She went by Cath,"
"You're Cath's kid?" he says with curiousity. "God I haven't spoken to her in forever. Is she nearby? Can you put her on the phone I would love to catch up with her somet-" I cut him off.
"I'm sorry, she was murdered." I say quickly. "Yesterday, late at night."
"Oh, god what killed her?" The man was quieter now, speaking softly.
"What do you mean what killed her, it was a human. What else could have murdered her." I'm confused now, maybe I shouldn't be talking to this man. He doesn't reply so I keep talking. "Listen, i'm really sorry to have told you like that. But she said you could help me. I should specify, she left me a voicemail right before she died... she said my father could help me."
"Your father?" Shit there was probably a better way to go about saying that.
"Yes, I have reason to believe your my dad." Is all I said.
"No that's not possible she would have told me she was pregnant with my kid." The man seemed confused which was understandable, I'm confused too.
"She had me when she was 19. She said my dad didn't even know that I existed and that she hasn't spoken to him in a really long time." I'm on the verge of crying right now, I'm barely holding on. "I found a photo of you two kissing at a place called the Road House. Does any of this ring any bells for you?" He is silent. "She use to tell me his job was dangerous and she didn't want me around it." I'm not sure of what else to say, this would be easier if he said something back but he doesn't so i fill in the silence. "In the voice mail she left me she said that something is after me and you would help me."
"Are you still at your house?" Finally a response!
"No I left town, I'm at a motel in the middle of nowhere."
"Could you be a little more specific?" he asked in a suddenly tired voice.
"Yeah sure, Marysville Surf Motel, in Marysville, Kansas." I tell him in a tired voice that mimics his.
"Okay," he paused. "well me and my brother can be there early tomorrow morning if we leave now. Can you wait until then?" He asks me. So that's who the other man in the pictures must be. Things are sort of starting to make sense.
"Yeah, I should be fine until then. Thanks." Is all I can manage to say. Tomorrow is the day I meet my dad.
"Okay what's your name by the way?" He posed an interesting question. Here I am, I know who he is, vaguely, and all he knows about me is that I'm some chick saying that I'm his daughter.
"Emma."
"Okay. Emma. I will see you tomorrow." And with that he hung up.
It wasn't even night yet and this has been the longest day of my life. I lost my mother, and talked to my father. I want to lay down but I force myself to get into the only pair of pajamas I brought with me and I brush my teeth with a new toothbrush I found on the counter of the bathroom. I wash all of the makeup off my face and look at my red puffy eyes and my brown, frizzy hair that hasn't been brushed all day. I'm a mess. I leave the bathroom, turn off the room's light and curl up underneath the blankets of the motel bed. I start crying and I can't stop. I just cry for what must have been hours. Soon enough there isn't anymore tears leaving my eyes and I am able to drift off to sleep.