A/N: So, if any of you read the really bad piece I wrote over the summer, it was mostly about personal narratives, and this was supposed to be about Dean playing catch with his Dad. It started out that way. But it did not end that way at all. Oh God. What I mean to say, is that this totally did not happen at all. It's almost believable that he wrote this, but it is not, in any way, shape or form, believable that Dean read this out loud to his fourth grade class.
Fourth Grade (School Year of 1988-1989)
My Mom, by Dean Winchester
My Dad looked up at our house in Lawrence Kansas. When my dad talks about it (but not to me or Sammy) he says it was the happiest time of his life. Mom was waking Sammy up from his nap. I was outside with my Dad. I was four years old. In a couple of months I would be five. Dad was playing soccer with me and the boy from next door who was already five and his dad. It was kids against grownups and I thought the other kid and I were just really great at soccer. I know now that they were letting us win. Mom came outside with my baby brother Sam. He was six months old that day. He sat on Mom's lap and they watched us play. Sam was a really good baby. He hardly ever cried, except when he needed something and Dad says now that it was only because he couldn't do it for himself. Mom and Sam cheered me and the other kid on and I felt invincible. I agree with Dad. This was the happiest time in my life.
When it started to get dark, Dad called the game off and said me and the other kid won. "Let's go in for dinner, Dean," he said. I ran up to Mom, who was playing with Sammy on the step. "I won Mom!" I exclaimed. "Did you see?" Mom smiled at me. "Good job Dean. Really kicked Daddy's butt huh?" She smiled up at Dad who agreed that I was the best soccer player he had ever met. We went inside and I tried to play with Sam but he was really little so I had a hard time. Then Mom came in to give Sam dinner, so I built blocks by myself. Mom and Dad were in the kitchen. I heard Mom tell Dad to feed Sam and I heard them keep talking. It sounded boring and grownup so I didn't listen. I wish I did. Mom called me in for dinner and we said our prayers and ate dinner. It was just like any week night when Dad got home early from work.
We finished dinner and Sam and I got baths and got put to bed. I got to tuck Sam in bed just like I had done every night for the past six months and Dad carried me to my room with my clothes and my toys and my bed and tucked me in. Then Mom came in and she said, "Good night love." "Good night Mom," I said. "Angels are watching over you," she told me, like she had every day since the day I was born. Mom turned off the light.
The next thing I knew I heard Mom scream, "Sammy!" I burst out of bed and down the hall to check on Sammy, but Dad was already there. The room that belonged to Sam was glowing orange and it felt hot. Dad had a look on his face that scares me when I see it now. I peeked into the room to see if I could see what was going on, and I saw something I spent the next few months trying to convince myself I didn't see. Then I stopped thinking about my mom stuck in Sam's nursery because Dad stuck Sam in my arms and yelled, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back!" I wanted to ask about Mom but my voice got stuck in my throat and Sam suddenly clung onto me with his little baby hands. I stood there looking at Dad. "Now Dean! Go!" I turned and I ran. I ran down the stairs to the front door. I had to stop to open it first and I almost dropped Sam but I made it out and I didn't stop to close it again because I knew Dad would be right behind me and I was very scared. The whole house was getting hot and I wanted to be out of the house with Mom and Dad and Sam so I would know they were all safe. I still thought Dad was going to come out of the house with Mom, even though I saw her being eaten up by flames. I was four. I didn't know. I stopped outside on the front lawn where I had played soccer with Dad and the other kid and the other kid's dad and watched the fire burn up my house. Sam was crying a little I think. "It's okay Sam," I promised.
Then Dad came charging out of the house and picked up me and picked up Sam and ran. He ran to the street where our car was parked and he waited for the fire department and the police to show up. Neighbors came out of their houses and the emergency vehicles showed up and put out the fire. They gave us a blanket and we sat on the car. Some men were talking to Dad and I remember all that Dad kept saying that night was, "My wife…my wife…" And eventually someone told him that she was dead and then they left us alone for a while so they could put out the fire. Sam sat in Dad's lap and Dad was crying a little I think. I didn't fall asleep again that night or the next night after that, but I didn't remember anything after we the emergency workers left us alone. I just remember that I didn't sleep.