The song here is "Dissect" by Glasser

Dissect

It was vivid and strongly familiar. Once things were set in motion, it was clear. This wasn't just a dream, but a memory; one Clara hadn't replayed in years.

She was about seven years old, looking more like a four year old because she aged slowly compared to the kids her age, and her mother was having company that day. It was her new church lady friends. Her mother never stayed in a town longer than a few months before people figured out she had a demon child; not they ever had the thought.

Clara was getting good at playing tricks and her dark smile grew with each passing year. She always managed to get people to think that her mother was like the one from Stephen King's "Carrie". That's why they moved so much and her mother just blamed it all on her.

That day, her mother wanted to make sure that her evil daughter couldn't ruin this like she had everything else. Clara's bedroom had a crucifix on every wall and about four heavy duty locks with crosses engraved into them. Apparently, her mother thought she was immune to the power and symbol of God.

Clara sat on the floor in the middle of her room and grinned at her mother as she closed the door. She listened to those locks as the keys turned them and then listened to her mother's footsteps. When all was silent, she glanced at the crosses on her walls and felt like Heaven was bearing down on her with an angry glare. Clara no longer felt the pressure. Instead, she felt carelessness and concentrated on the nails to come out of the walls.

Then the crosses fell to the floor and they all broke in two. Only then did Clara smile.

Next, she had to wait for her mother's friends to arrive and unlock the doors with her power. After about fifteen minutes, they had arrived and she concentrated on the locks. She could feel them turn and once she had all four, she turned the knob and watched as her door creaked open.

She stood up and began humming "My Little Sunshine" with her hands behind her back, opening the door with her foot and walking out quietly. Without being heard, she went to play with a doll in the living room where the women could see her from the kitchen table.

After a few seconds, they noticed her and they all thought Clara was so adorable. Her mother turned in her chair and her face paled. Clara ignored her and continued to play with a sweet smile on her face. What was her mother to do? She couldn't grab her by the arm because Clara would scream and then make bruises appear on her body with her power. It's what happened in the last town and people thought she was abusing Clara. Then they moved here.

"What a cutie!" one of the women said and she looked up with bright eyes and smiled, making the women fall over themselves. Her mother was afraid of what Clara had planned. The women got up and came into the living room and when they all looked back at her mother, the darkness returned to her face, to her smile and she traced a finger along her neck, and then looked up at one of the women. She made her mother think that she was going to kill one of her new friends.

That was the last time her mother ever had friends over.

However, the images began to blur and another image came forward like it was emerging from a fog. It was something Clara found to be unfamiliar. Was this just a dream or a memory she didn't know she had?

She was standing in this room that she didn't recognize and was looking at this little toddler playing with blocks. Then, someone stepped out of the shadows and light reflected off a long bread knife in their hands. When the light shone on their face, Clara was stunned. It was her mother.

She approached the little one and Clara knew that she was looking at herself when she was about six months old. Her mother stepped closer and lifted up that knife, above little Clara. She held it up high and Clara screamed, but no sound came from her, only silence.

Her mother stood still, that knife high in the air, now both hands wrapping around the handle tightly. Those seconds stretched into minutes and Clara was afraid that she'd force that knife down on little Clara. Only, she made these strange sounds and then she began to cry.

Clara was shocked as she watched her mother fall to her knees, crying. She brought her hands up to the face, still holding the knife. Little Clara turned her head, looking at her mother, confused. Her big eyes looked at her mother and the knife, not understanding. Then, she reached her little chubby hand out and made a soft little sound.

Her mother looked up, yelped and pushed herself onto her feet, running away. A couple of seconds later, the sound of that knife falling into the sink broke the silence and blended with the cries of the sad little Clara. She watched her six month old self cry for her mother, cry and crawl, waiting for her mother to come to her.

But she never did.

That's when Clara's eyes snapped open and her vision was blurred. She could feel something wet on her face and when it rolled down her cheek, she knew they were tears. She pushed against someone and sat up. They sat up too and wrapped their arms around her, resting their chin on her shoulder. It was Crowley.

At that moment, their daughter woke up and began to stir, also feeling sad and feeling the need to be comforted. Clara couldn't stop those tears and couldn't comfort her baby. So, she took Crowley's hands and placed them on her stomach, hoping that he could comfort their daughter and she could then control her tears.

When it began to work, she closed her eyes and felt a spark of rage and it began to burn harshly. She knew what she had to do: get rid of her mother. Hell was too good for her mother and her presence was bothering her. Her grandmother requested that she be free? So be it, but she wouldn't go to Heaven, not unless some angel plucked her up and the chances of that were slim to none.

"I want the bars to my mother's cell to fall and the second she steps foot out of that corridor, every Hound of Hell will be unleashed to chase her out. She is no longer welcomed in our House." she said and she could feel Crowley's usual demeanor creep back to him. He will do this for her with pleasure.