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Chapter 14

Melissa's POV

Dean, Sam and I sat at the old scratched up wooden table in our new motel room. I sat with my hands clasped together in my lap, absently twiddling my thumbs. The dingy room was silent apart from the buzzing of the rusty A.C unit hanging out the window. I could feel the scrutiny of Deans gaze as his eyes burned holes into me, watching my every move with caution.

I never thought they would find about the things I could do, and if they did this certainly wasn't how I pictured it.

Not being able to take the silence anymore I spoke.

"Are you going to say anything?" I spoke softly.

"Do you want to tell me what the hell just happened?" I flinched at the harshness of Deans tone. I had never seen him like this, but he was pissed and he had every right to be.

"I don't know." I mumbled.

Dean stood up abruptly causing his chair to crash on the floor.

"Bullshit!" Dean shouted, slamming his hands onto the table.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I said finally meeting their eyes.

"Try us." Dean and Sam responded simultaneously after sharing a look.

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. They were willing to listen? I knew if I told them they could easily send me away somewhere, or even kill me. Their eyes were lit up with curiosity. I don't know why I trusted them so much, but I did and that scared me.

After taking a deep breath I told them everything. I started with the man that attacked us at the motel. I told them about my powers and how they would strengthen when I felt threatened or angry. I told him about the man that saved me the day my dad almost killed me, and he visited me when I was in the hospital. The only thing I didn't tell them about was the vivid dream of the man in fire and the family it destroyed.

After I finished, Dean and Sam just sat soaking in all the information.

"The man that attacked us earlier, do you know why he wants you?" Dean finally asked.

"Not really, no. All he told me was that I would be needed soon."

"What about the other one?" Sam asked, "The one that saved you."

"I don't know much about him, he hasn't visited me in awhile. He seems good."

Dean scoffed, "In our line of work nothing is good."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "In your line of work?"

Sam looked at Dean with a scolding expression, like he just gave away a huge secret. Dean looked as if he was mentally kicking himself for his slip up.

"If I'm coming clean it's only fair you do too." I said trying to pull information.

Dean looked pensive before saying, "We're hunters."

I raised my eyebrow questioning him.

"My family and I, we hunt monsters. Ghosts, demons, basically anything you thought were legends."

"And by hunt, you mean..." I trailed off.

"Kill." Dean and Sam confirmed.

"Looks like there's a lot we don't know about each other." I stated, taking a deep breath and leaning back in my chair.

"You're telling me." Dean huffed, running a hand through his hair.

"Well," Sam started, looking directly at me. "We should get information on your powers first. So we can figure what you are."

I nodded.

"And from there, hopefully we can figure out why you're wanted so badly." Sam continued.

"Okay.." I said.

"When did your powers start?" Dean prodded.

"I guess they were always there, but I always had control over them until that night I met you and Sam at the library." I tried to keep my composure as I continued, "My dad started yelling at me and I don't know why but I started to yell back. After he slapped me I just felt this overwhelming wave of anger wash over me, and then I..." I paused contemplating my words, "I sent him into the bookshelf."

"What happened after that?" Sam asked.

"Nothing I, I ran." I said with tears stinging my eyes.I hated thinking about my dad, it just reminded me how screwed up my life was.

"So, you can throw people into bookshelves, what else can you do?" Dean asked.

"Not much that I know of. I get visions sometimes but, those usually happen when I'm asleep. Usually in the form of a really vivid dream."

"Is there anything else you can think of that would be helpful?" Sam pushed, trying to get as much information as possible.

"Well whenever I get angry, I feel like I become a whole different person. The angrier I get the stronger they get. It feels like a spark, like something is surging through me."

"Okay" Sam said, I could see the gear turning in his head.

I looked to Dean and saw the exact same thing. If anyone could help me it was these two.

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I decided to take a shower while Sam and Dean did research. I locked the bathroom door and turned on the water. While waiting for it to heat up, I stripped my clothes off and looked in the mirror at the fading scars that made their home on my porcelain skin. I slowly ran my fingertips down the rubbery tissue on my right side, it was my very first scar. As I continued to trace the 4 inch scar, the memory of how I got it came flooding back in one big overwhelming wave. I was 13 at the time, it was only a few days after my older sister, Kyra, passed away. I replayed the scene in my head.

I walked into the living with my navy blue backpack slung over my left shoulder. I looked at my dad, who was sitting in his recliner staring at a framed picture on the wall of he, Kyra and I. In the picture we were standing on the front porch of our house smiling brightly, that was six years ago when we had just moved in.

"Dad?" I asked cautiously.

"What?" he mumbled as his hands tightened around the almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

"I was just wondering what you want for dinner tonight." I said, dropping my backpack onto the floor before slowly making my way over to my dad.

"I wish you were never born." He stated coldly.

I stopped dead in my tracks, a few feet from my father. I felt the air get sucked out of my lungs, tears stung my eyes but I blinked them away quickly.

"Dad, I-" I started before he cut me off.

"Dammit! Will you just shut up!" He roared quickly standing up to face me, bottle still in hand, "It's all your fault! Things were perfect, then you just had to come into the picture and ruin everything. Your mom, Kyra and I were happy before you showed up." He continued, backing me into a corner, "You ruined this family! I hate you." He seethed.

The next minute passed quickly. The sound of a bottle being slammed into the wall invaded my ears. He held onto the remains of the bottle, and slashed it along my side. I stared at him with shock and disbelief, as I slid to floor nursing my stinging wound. He threw the remnants of the broken bottle at me, before turning on his heels and making his exit known by the slamming of the front door. And that was just the beginning for me.

I glanced back at my reflection, my eyes were rimmed red and my face was wet from the tears I didn't even realize I had shed. I wiped my eyes quickly before stepping under the hot spray.

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