We arrived in front of Dad's motel at 9 p.m. The whole drive was heavy silence and I hated seeing Dean so enraged. I just can't wait to get this over with. I know I'm selfish to say this, but I'm glad that I don't have to keep in all the pain.
Dean trudges out of the car and slams the car door. If I wasn't his little brother, I'd be afraid to be around him. With his nostrils flared he almost kicks down the door. Thankfully it was unlocked, but none the less, he tramples into the door looking for Dad.
I follow behind uselessly.
Dad is sitting in the dining room face buried in a book. He looks so innocent, I don't know if Dean will have the guts to stand up to his own father. He's like dad's little soldier. If anything I should be the one to defy Dad.
Dean yells while grabbing the front of his shirt, "You bastard! How could you," He shoves Dad onto the floor.
Dad's face is shocked as he says, "What are you talking about," He warily stands up.
"How could you hurt him? He's just a kid, "Dean's voice breaks.
Dad's attention moves to me. My knees shake and my breath almost stops all together. He's giving the you-are-in-deep-trouble look. Usually that look means that a beating was sure to follow.
"I haven't laid a hand Sam!"
How could he say that? What if Dean doesn't believe me? I grip the kitchen counter to keep myself from falling. I don't know why, but Dean looks at me. I can see it, he's having doubts. Oh God, this isn't how it was suppose to be.
Dad's deceitful tone sounds concerned, "Son, who is hurting you?" He adds emphasize on the who.
He gently walks past Dean and in front of me. I flinch when he places his placid hands on my shoulders. I try to move back, but the kitchen countertop prevents me.
A tear slips from my eyes. I whisper, "Don't lie. Please don't."
Why can't Dean see he's lying? Rage surges through me making my mind go fuzzy. He's given me so much torture and he doesn't get to lie about it anymore. I've had enough.
With my fist balled I punch him with all the power I could muster up. He stumbles back a little bit, but doesn't fight. My hand throbs as I breathe heavily. This is the only time that I'm going to say this, but I want him to hurt me. I need to let Dean see how awful this man is.
Dean is there in a heartbeat with a hand on my chest. I try to suppress my urge to punch him again, but it just makes me angrier.
"Why can't you see that he's lying? Please believe me!"
Dean pulls me away from Dad and responds, "Calm down Sammy."
"No!" For the first time I pull away from Dean's soothing touch. I don't know what I could say that would make him believe me.
Devastation seeps its way into my heart. Maybe this is for the best. Dad won't touch a finger on his perfect son and Dean will live a normal life. Well, normal as you can get.
On that note, I storm out of the dingy motel room. The crisp air cools my warm skin. I sprint away from the agony of reality. I can hear Dean calling my name, but it's too late. I've made my decision. I'm running away.
I can't tell if Dean is following me, but I still run as fast as I can. Luckily the motel rests right next to a dense forest. The only way this is going to work, is if I hide in the woods. Dean can't chase after me in his car and I'll blend in.
After 10 minutes of running steadily I collapse against a tree. My lungs burn for air. I half-gasp for air and half-cry as I think about my future.
Where will I go? How am I going to live without Dean? To make myself feel better, I remind myself that I deserve this.
Exhaustion hits me, so I lean against the rough bark of an old tree. Maybe when I wake up, things will be better.