Hey guys, so sorry for being a stranger on this, I know it's been a long time since my last update. I will explain at the bottom, after this chapter. Enjoy the new update.
I was getting into the swing of my hunter training. Sure, it had it's regular ups and downs, but doesn't every job? Nevertheless, I was enjoying all the new adventures I was experiencing, even though I was only currently allowed to attend gigs involving spirits. I had a feeling that my time to confront some ugly ass monsters would be soon, after a couple more training sessions. In all honesty, I was surprised that I was being trained this early, I mean, my family still mollycoddles me, as if I'm still a little kid. My guessing, was it was down to Sam's absence, and that resulted my protégé status. Due to Sam being in college, that meant that we were one hunter short, plus babysitter.
My brother and I were finishing up a salt and burn, due to our latest case involving some old lady ghost who had a vendetta on her neighbours. Dean was digging up the coffin, whilst I sat on the edge of now open grave, looking down into the exposed earth and bugs. If I fell down that grave, I knew I would struggle to get out again. I hate being such a short ass, I'm eleven years old, and I'm 4ft 10 inches. Hell, I better reach a very rapid growth spurt sometime soon.
"Sam says he's heading to Santa Monica with his new college friends this weekend," I said, my legs dangling over the edge of the grave. "We talked on the phone for about an hour this morning. You were out. He asked after you, wanting to know how you are. Why aren't you talking to him? Is it because of Dad?"
My brother halted digging, and sighed heavily. He gazed up at me, his face covered in sweat and dirt.
"Look, these past couple of months have been very complicated. Since Sam went to Stanford, all responsibility regarding you, has been placed on me," said Dean, gently leaning against his shovel. "Before, it was easier, because the responsibility was shared and manageable. Now, with Dad away half of the time, I have to do everything. Believe me, I want to speak to him, but I have no time. Besides, Sam probably thinks I'm a dick and doesn't want to speak to me anyway."
I cocked my head to the side in a thoughtful and innocent manner, which was followed by a slight twitch of my nose.
"Well, he does think you can be an asshole sometimes, but you're his brother," I replied. "You know as well as I do, that Sam would take a bullet to the head for you. Make time, and talk to him. This whole silence and void of separation, it's killing us all."
My brothers have been very frosty with each other for several weeks now, ever since Sam discovered that I was going along on hunts. He found it irresponsible of Dad and Dean, and an argument erupted via telephone lines. Harsh words were exchanged, almost reminiscent of the night Sam left for college.
No wonder I have all this rage repressed inside me, it's because I have been raised within a very strict, patriarchal and anger filled environment. More evidence of this has come into light recently, as I'm starting to swear more. I got a lot of disgusted looks from people yesterday, when I knocked over a large can display in a grocery store, which almost crushed me, causing me to unleash a flurry of four lettered words. It's not every day you hear an eleven year old cuss like a sailor.
Dean cleared his throat, yet didn't respond to my statement. Typical of the stubborn ass to bottle everything up. That's another trait I've picked up along the way. Ah, never mind, in my next life, I can always come back as the mild mannered daughter of a boring rich family in upstate New York, and living with three ponies and an tortoise called Alan. I might have gained some etiquette and manners at that point. Still, with the road I'm travelling down, I'm gonna come back as a toilet brush in a public restroom. That would be my luck.
After the salt and burn was completed, my brother and I hit the road once again. An hour or two after beginning the drive, my brother pulled into an empty field. The sky was pitch black, and decorated with millions of tiny sparkling stars. A calm silence settled, with only the odd sound of nearby crickets.
My brother parked himself on the hood of the car, and began to take the occasional sip from his beer bottle. Normally I would whine about the dangers of drinking behind the wheel, and what if situation if he got pulled over and arrested by the authorities. Yet, with the somewhat peacefulness I decided against my lecture.
I joined him on the hood, and removed my baseball cap from my head. My crazy brown waves sprung to life, as they were granted freedom from the baseball cap. Strange as it sounds, well near enough crazy by my standards, but I always seem to hear very faint whispers of distant and mysterious voices whenever I gaze at the sky. I mentioned it to Sam once, but he dismissed it as my over active imagination.
As my brother and I star gazed, a shooting star darted across the sky in a very clichéd manner.
"You once told me when I was little, that a shooting star is a soul going to Heaven, and that a falling star signals the birth of a new soul. Makes you wonder if it's true," I said, my eyes briefly drifting towards my silent brother. "I've always wanted to know, who told you that?"
A soft sigh escaped my brother's mouth, as he lowered his beer bottle from his lips.
"Mom told me that," replied Dean quietly. "She used to say to Sam and I when we were little kids, that every single star in the night sky is a human soul. Whenever someone dies, a new star is created once the soul reaches Heaven. Mom always had a way of explaining things, even if it didn't make any sense. Sam used to love her stories. Nobody told him anymore stories after Mom died."
I shuffled closer to my brother, sensing his sombre mood. My head rested against his shoulder, and I let out a sigh. It's getting ridiculous, all this silent treatment between everybody, and I know sooner or later it's just gonna reach the point of no return. I can't stand the idea of my family becoming that estranged, it would break my heart.
Not every family is perfect, because mine sure as hell isn't. Still, for things to work within a family unit, communication, respect, understanding and loyalty are all key elements. I just wished my family was able to apply all these factors, but like I said, things aren't so simple when it comes to my father and brothers.
As I gazed back up at the sky, I recalled a moment I shared with Sam about three years ago.
"You remember Dean and I telling you about the stars?" asked a sixteen year old Sam, to which I nodded in reply. "I saw several shooting stars just there. Do you remember what that means?"
Sam and I were both huddled at the small motel window, gazing at the night sky. At eight years old I was very inquisitive, and without the knowledge of the paranormal and supernatural. I adored the interesting and funny conversations I had with Sam, since he would openly volunteer to baby sit me. At the time I never understood why, as I thought he was missing out on stuff involving Dad and Dean. However, he was try to avoid the upcoming responsibilities as a hunter, which was a life he never wanted. Since I was still in the dark about things, I never knew this fact until several years later.
"The shooting stars means somebody has died, and their soul is going up to Heaven beside Mom," I responded. "Every pure soul becomes a star you told me, and if your evil and bad then you don't get a star, or get to go to Heaven."
Sam chuckled, and gently squeezed my shoulder in an act of comfort. A sad smile tugged on the corners of his lips.
"Let me tell you something that Mom told me," he began, before returning his gaze to the dark night sky, in which I did the same. "Look at the stars. Every soul who has become a star looks down on us, and offers us guidance. Mom is up there, and she is always watching out for us. If you ever feel sad, alone or lost, then just look to the stars. Mom and the Angels will always guide you in the right direction. Whatever happens in our lives, I want you to remember that."
My childish, and curiosity filled eyes met with the sorrow filled eyes of my big brother. At that moment, I didn't feel so alone in the universe anymore.
As I continued to gaze at the night sky, I could just imagine Sam doing the very same thing, far away in California. Once exhaustion began to sink into my bones, my eyes began to grow heavy with each effort filled blink. During the moments when Dean was guiding me back inside the car, I heard very faint whispers coming from thin air. I couldn't make out what the voices were saying, as it just sounded like gibberish to me. Nevertheless, I just came to the conclusion that I was creating imaginary thoughts and sounds due to sleep deprivation. It wouldn't be the first time either. Still, I could've have sworn I saw a man wearing some sort of long coat, whilst blinking. Again, I was exhausted after a very long and tiring day.
Just before I managed to fall asleep, I could hear the beeping of buttons. I cuddled under the blanket that Dean had wrapped me in, and gave a small stretch as I lay curled in the back seat of the car. Before my eyes finally closed, I heard the dialling tone on my brother's cell phone. There was a tiny crackle and then a soft click.
"Sammy, it's Dean," mumbled my eldest brother. "We need to talk."
I really do apologise for my absence, it's just that I've been under a lot of stress with college, of which I'm hating to the point it's making me feel kinda down and depressed. With the amount of college work that is being thrown at me from all angles, I have had no time in updating within the past couple of months.
Writer's block is affecting the progress of the Chris main series, but that will be updated soon, hopefully, as I want to move on with that part of Chris's story.
I will make more time for you lovely readers and reviewers, as I can afford to let good story ideas to go to waste.
Hope you enjoyed the long awaited chapter.
Stay tuned!
Please review!