1st January 2002
Dear Dean,
Happy New Year Dean! I hope your night was as eventful as mine, it ain't right being alone on New Year's Eve but knowing dad, I wouldn't be surprised if you worked. So what's new in the world of Dean? Dad given you the car yet or have you come to your senses and realized that dad isn't the saint that he treats you as? I don't have much to say besides you don't have to reply on dad anymore, maybe try living a little. Have a good new year Dean, I wish you were here. I really do Dean…
Sam. W.
5th January
Dear Dean,
It's my first day at Stanford, I can say I am scared out of my mind but nothing can beat the feeling of knowing I'm not going to leave in a few weeks' time. It feels so weird, knowing I'm not going to have to leave after a few weeks like we always did. No more being scared of getting attached to someone you'll have to leave eventually. You know how great it is to wake up to a proper home? We never had that, well you did for a bit, but me? My home was the impala; I don't remember mum and I never will. Maybe that's for the best, I do think about what life would be like with her though. That's a nice thought; maybe it'll distract me from the huge gaping hole in my chest where my heart is. Blaming you on this one, you stole it long ago brother of mine. Good luck with whatever the hell you're doing and I'm off to Stanford.
Sam. W.
10th January
Dear Dean,
So I was thinking of what life would be like if mum was alive and we all were back at home in Kansas. Problem was I can never know what it'd be like, I never knew her, I don't have a single memory of her, I mean, how could I? I was only six bloody months old when she died in that fire, you have memories. I have nothing but a shitty picture dad managed to salvage. I can't remember what it felt like to be held by her or tucked in before bed. I don't remember the small of walking into the house with something fresh out of the oven she made for us after school. You were lucky Dean; you have those memories to cling onto. I have nothing. Instead my memories are being brought up in a boot camp, up nearly every morning to train for whoever knows what for, the shitting meals we get at diners if we were lucky to get money, those horrid nights in those hotels. Where are my good memories Dean? I had to leave, I'm so sorry but I had no future with you two. I still care about you, all the damn time, you are my brother and I miss you. I miss you too much; it's just hard letting go.
Sam. W.
19th January
Dear Dean,
What if I told you that man was back? Dean, I swear he is following me. I'm sure you have seen him around, blond hair, looks like he pulled wings off of butterflies when he was little, and he's got this voice, this presence. He never changes, never leaves, he's like a ghost, always around and yet unseen. I swear when I see him it sends shivers down my spine, when I was little he was nice, he like played with me and stuff, he cared but now. I don't know man, I just don't know he just creeps me out, that's all. I know he's not bad or anything, but it's something about him that's just… not natural. Maybe he's my guardian angel, ha that's a thought.
Missing you always…
Sam. W.
29th January
Dear Dean,
Still working with dad, or is it still the big secret that I could never know, I've got a virgin if you want me to sacrifice someone to join your secret club. I'm joking… if you didn't get that… unless it is required you know. How is the old man? Still treating you like his little soldier. Ok I'm sorry. I guess it's been pretty rough, I just wish we never had to live like this. Dad's a good guy, he thinks he is doing the right thing but I just want to go to college but dad always treated the idea like it was the worst thing in the world. Sometimes I just wonder what I did wrong in this god awful world, reality sucks and that's a fact. Stanford has helped get my mind off of all that; it keeps me busy with work and friend. When did we ever have that? I'm happy here Dean, I do miss you. I've said this a thousand times, I miss you but do you miss me as much as I miss you? I like to think you do, it's sort of reassuring. Like a comfort blanket. Dean Winchester: comfort blanket extraordinaire. Yeah, I like that. Good night Dean
Sam. W.
