TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child death/Suicide

This is a continuation of Heart, but we get to see some of Rae's backstory.

15. Then

Indiana, 1988. Age 7

"Higher, Daddy! Push me higher!"

"Alright you little daredevil. Hold on tight."

I was flying! My tummy felt a little funny as I went back on forth on the swings but I kinda liked it. It made me giggle. I always liked when Dad came into the garden with me. No one else could push me as high on the swings as he could. And he always played chase with me. Our house had lots of fields and trees around it, so we could run far and run around for hours and hours.

"Alright pumpkin, we've gotta go in and finish your lesson now." Dad made the swing stop.

"Oh please, Daddy. Just one more big swing." I learned when I looked at my dad and made my eyes really big, he gave me what I wanted. I think he knew I was trying to trick him, but he did it anyway.

He sighed and his eyes rolled all the way round. "Ok, one more swing. Deal?"

I giggled. See? I knew it would work. "Deal!"

He pulled me back on the swing really high, then push me hard. My hair was flying all over my face. It probably looked weird, but I didn't care.

Dad gave me another whole five minutes on the swing before he told me we had to go back inside again. Before the swing came to a stop, I jumped off. Then I really was flying! I didn't even hurt myself when I landed; I was really good at jumping off the swing.

I ran to the house, Dad chased after me. He caught me before I could get inside. He grabbed in his strong arms and lifted me up. Then he pretended to eat my arm. Daddy could be so silly sometimes.

He carried me into the dining room where we were doing my lessons. I liked doing them. I thought it was cool and no one else at school got lessons like these.

We sat down at the table and Dad held up one of the pictures he took from a pile. "Ok, what one is this?"

I giggled. This one was easy. "It's a vampire, duh." Vampires had a mouth full of really sharp pointy teeth. They used them to bite you and drink your blood, which I thought was kinda gross. Why couldn't they just drink lemonade?

See, my daddy was a hunter. He went after bad monsters that hurt people and he killed them. Now he was teaching me to hunt so that when I got older, I'd be able to kill the monsters too and be just like him. I wasn't allowed to tell anyone at school though. They would think I was lying because they didn't know about the monsters. It was our little secret.

"And how do you kill one?"

I knew this one too. "You have to cut its head off."

"Good girl."

He showed me pictures of Werewolves, Ghosts, Demons and Fairies. Then he showed me a picture of a monster with long arms. Its face was pale and was all screwed up. It had a weird mouth too. I knew the name of it. I knew it. I just couldn't remember it.

"Come on, Raelynn."

I tried really hard to think, but I just couldn't remember it. "I don't remember."

Daddy sighed. "It's a Wendigo, Raelynn. Come on, you need to do better than that."

I looked down at the table. I didn't like it when Daddy was disappointed in me. "Sorry, Daddy."

"Do you remember how to kill one?"

Again I tried really hard to think of— "Fire! You have to kill it with fire!"

He smiled and held up his hand for a high five. I slapped his hand really hard. He even had to shake it because I'd slapped it so hard. He laughed and said, "That's more like it."

I was glad Daddy was happy again.

"Alright you two, time for dinner." Mom was standing at the door. She knew about the monsters too, but she didn't go and hunt them like Daddy did.

We washed up for dinner then sat round the table. Mommy had made a casserole and it was delicious. Her food always was. Daddy's food though wasn't that great.

After dinner, I had my bath and got ready for bed. This was my favourite time of the day, even more than the lessons I had with Daddy. Once I got into my pyjamas, I sat on my bed and Mommy sat behind me. She brushed my hair and sang to me. I didn't know what she was singing but that didn't matter. I just loved hearing her voice. When she was finished, she tucked me in and kissed me on the forehead.

"Good night, my precious little gift."

Now

"Sounds like it was a good life."

"It was." From the little pieces I could recall of my early life growing up in Indiana, it was good. I'd been happy and so had my parents. It was strange, I hadn't thought about those early memories in so long, I'd forgotten they'd even happened.

"You're uh, Dad seemed pretty intent on getting you to hunt. He started you off young," Dean said, still sat beside me. He knew all too well about insistent fathers.

"He did. Looking back on it now, I think he desperately wanted a son he could pass the torch on to but I was his only option. My parents couldn't have kids of their own, but they wanted to be parents more than anything. And then I was… found." At Dean's questioning look, I explained, "I was left at a fire station. I know, total cliché, right? My dad worked there part-time. He was on duty when I was left there. And he decided to take me home."

For whatever reason, I'd never been curious about my birth parents. Maybe because they didn't want me I never wanted them. I had a good life, so I had no need to question any of it.

"It was just the three of us and we were happy," I continued. "And then one day my mom found out she was pregnant. Everything changed after that."

Indiana, 1990. Age 9

She was so tiny. Her face was all squashed, but she was still kind of cute. She was making these little gurgling sounds like some sort of alien. Babies were weird. I didn't know what to do as I sat there on the couch with her in my arms. She felt so light, and I didn't want to drop her.

"That's it, make sure you protect her head." Mom moved my arm so that it was under the baby's head more.

Mom and Dad had decided to call her Sophie. I liked the name. And I was looking forward to when she grew up a little bit. I didn't have many friends at school but at least I'd have someone to play with now.

"Here," Mom said as she leant over to take her from me. "Give her to me and you can go and do some more lessons with your dad. You'd like that right?" She sat down on the rocking chair by the window, brushing her fingers gently across Sophie's cheeks.

Dad took me into the dining room. Today's lesson was all about loading guns. He'd shown me how to do it before, but now he wanted me to work on my speed.

The days and weeks went by like that. Mom spent a lot of her time with Sophie while I was made more and more to do lessons with Dad. I did get some time to cuddle Sophie. She was definitely getting cuter; but I wasn't a fan of the constant crying, especially at night—what a racket! But I liked her. I had a feeling she was going to be a good baby sister and it was my mission to be the best big sister ever.

But I did start to get a little upset. One night, when Sophie was about two months old, after my bath, I waited for mom to come and brush my hair like she normally would. But she never came. I went off to search for her. She was in Sophie's room, leaning over her crib. She was singing and stroking Sophie's hair—though she didn't have much of it. She bent down to kiss her on her forehead and said, "Sleep tight, my precious little gift."

That's what my mom used to call me. I tried not to cry. I went back to my bed and sat there, brushing my own hair but I couldn't get all the tangles out. I fell asleep hugging my bear—Mr Snuggles—tight. I didn't usually have him. Teddies were for little kids, and I wasn't a little kid anymore. But I wanted him that night.

The next couple of years went by like that; the time I got to spend with my mom getting shorter and shorter, the little moments becoming rarer and rarer. My training continued with my dad. And when I was twelve, I went on my first hunt with him.

There had been two people killed a few towns over from ours. And get this—their hearts were missing! My dad knew straight away that it was a werewolf as the deaths happened during the full moon. It sometimes took my dad a while to do his research, but once he'd figured out the werewolf's hunting grounds, he was ready to kill it.

The night was dark and cold but the full moon was high in the sky. I was in the passenger seat of his truck. He turned to me and said, "You stay in the car, you understand? Don't get out for any reason."

"Ok." I didn't want to tell my dad, but I was really scared. If I told him that, he'd probably get mad.

He got out and left me there in the car. I locked the doors straight away and wanted to cry from how terrified I felt. I jumped at every little noise, at every movement in the trees. I wanted to go home.

Two loud bangs went off. Gunshots. Something came charging out from between the trees. It was heading right for the car! The werewolf slammed up against the window. I screamed.

My dad appeared behind it and threw it to the ground. As it was getting up, he shot it twice in the chest and it hit the ground. He made sure it was dead before he tried to open the door. He knocked on the window when he couldn't, and I remembered that I'd locked them. I reached over to open the door. As I did, he swooped me out and grabbed me in a massive hug.

"Did you see that? Daddy killed the monster!"

He was so happy, and he was hugging me so tight. I missed getting regular hugs from my mom. But this was the next best thing. And it was then that I decided I wasn't going to be afraid to go on any more hunts. I was going to be the best hunter a dad could ask for.

Indiana, 1996. Age 15.

"For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo. So class, what did we make of the ending?"

That had to be the most stupid story ever. What sort of moron would do that because they thought their boyfriend or girlfriend was dead? Romeo and Juliet were idiots. I didn't see why we had to study Shakespeare anyway. Totally overrated.

I sat at the back of the class, doodling in my notebook. I didn't see the point of Shakespeare and I didn't see the point of me being here, period. I mean, what was I going to do with a high school degree? I wasn't going to college, and I was hardly gonna get a nine to five job. My real job was way more important than that. I was wasting my time here.

"Raelynn? Do you know the answer?"

Crap. I hated when Mrs Williams did this. I never knew the answer. Yet she still stood there, staring expectantly at me. So did the others in the class. Except for Jackie of course. She was sat there failing to hide her smirk. Bitch.

"Erm… no?" Honesty was the best policy, right?

Mrs Williams put on her usual scowl of disapproval. "Do you even know the question?

"Also, no."

She shook her head then asked someone else and the class carried on as normal. I couldn't wait until high school was over and I could leave and never look back.

The bell rang and I grabbed my stuff ready to get out of here and move into the next layer of hell: math. Before I could make my escape, Mrs Williams called my name. I shuffled over to her desk.

She sighed. "Do you actually want to succeed in life? Because you're a smart girl, you're just not showing it."

As if I hadn't heard that before from other teachers: you're smart, you just need to apply yourself. Yada, yada, yada.

And just like always, I answered they way I knew they wanted me to. "Yeah, I want to succeed."

She smiled. "Well then, you need to make a choice: work hard and get your degree at the end of high school or carry on as you are and fail out."

Well, how about I give you a choice, Mrs Williams? I can either save you from the monster hiding under your bed, or I can waste my time here, learning things that no one needs to know. I had a feeling I knew what she'd pick if she knew what really lurked out there in the shadows. She had no idea.

I said what I needed to to make her happy… for now. I went to my locker and threw my books inside.

"She's such a freak."

Great. Here we go.

I turned behind me to see Jackie leaning against her locker surrounded by her little clique. She was looking me dead in the eye, waiting for me to take the bait. Instead, I turned back around and collected my books for the next class.

"Even her real parents couldn't stand the sight of her, so dumped her in the trash." Her little minions thought that one was hilarious.

So, yeah, I was adopted. My parents had told me a few years ago when I started questioning why I looked so different to them. Sophie was the spitting image of Mom, apart from her blonde hair. I'd started really looking at myself in the mirror, trying to see if my nose or mouth or chin were the same as either my mom's or dad's. But they weren't. Ok, it wasn't the biggest deal in the world, but I had noticed it nonetheless. When they sat down and told me, I wasn't all that bothered. After all, they had cared enough to take me in in the first place. My dad had been working part time as a firefighter and one night found me on the doorstep of the station. He took me home. End of story. Though how Jackie had come to find out, I had no idea.

"It's a wonder they keep her around."

I slammed my locker shut and walked past Jackie and her gang. "Keep it up, Jackie. I don't listen to vermin."

The little dig must have stung because the next day when I went to my locker, a dead rat fell out. I jumped back in horror, while other people around me screamed. What the fuck? I'd seen all sorts while going out on hunts with Dad, but this was sick.

I whirled to find Jackie almost wetting herself from laughing. And I saw red. I stormed over to her, threw my fist back and punched her in the face. As she screamed, I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her down to the floor. I got on top of her, her minions too scared to do anything, and threw another punch at her.

"That's enough, break it up." Someone came up behind me and dragged me up. It was the history teacher, Mr Fallon. "To the Principal's office now!"

I got chewed out by the principal. My mom got called—though I was grateful Dad was away hunting. And Jackie sat there, with her broken nose, playing the victim. "I don't know how that rat got into her locker!" She cried. "Why would I ever pick up a dead rat? That's disgusting!" Oh, she may not have put it in my locker, but she definitely told someone to.

I got suspended and I knew my mom was going to give me hell when I got home. But she kept her composure in front of everyone else. Before we could all leave, I of course had to apologise. "Sorry," I said, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. As the adults walked out and Jackie and I trailed behind, I leaned over to her and whispered, "I really am sorry. I thought those layers upon layers of make up you cake on your face would soften the blow. Obviously not."

Jackie sneered at me. "Bitch."

Yeah, getting suspended was totally worth it.

As Mom and I walked outside, she took a deep breath. "You will go and collect your sister, bring her straight home and then you can do all of the chores."

"But—"

"But nothing. I will deal with you later." She got in her car and drove off.

Great. I wouldn't be able to do any training tonight. It was the only thing I had to look forward to in my day. Well, apart from one other thing.

I made it over to Sophie's school just as the bell rang signalling the end of day. I stood underneath the tree by the entrance and waited for that bouncing mop of blonde curls.

"Raelynn!" She came flying down the steps when she spotted me. She crashed into me with a hug. "I didn't know you were picking me up." She grinned up at me. Her two front teeth had fallen out a few days ago and I couldn't help but chuckle at her. I'd always thought she was going to be an awesome little sister. And boy was I right. We shouldn't have gotten on as well as we did. She was full of sunshine and rainbows, and I was, well… me. But her happy-go-lucky personality was infectious. And I may have sounded a little full of myself when I said it, but she loved the hell out of me too.

"Neither did I," I said, taking her by the hand.

"No," she said, pulling her hand away. "Can you—"

"Oh, come on," I said in jest, knowing what she was asking for and knowing I was going to do it.

"Please." She threw her best puppy dog eyes up at me. "I'll show you the picture I drew for you today." I knew she wasn't fibbing; she was always drawing me pictures at school.

"Ok," I said as I swung my backpack round to my front. I bent down in front of her. "Hop on."

She squealed as she jumped on my back, and I carried her home while listening to how her day had gone.

"Did you know that dinosaurs lived a gazillion years ago? And you can find their bones at the beach?" she said.

"Fossils, not their bones," I corrected as I shifted her weight on my back.

"Yeah, I think that was the word my teacher used. But can we go to the beach and dig some up? Can we? Please, please, please?"

I laughed, knowing she'd probably end up getting her way, even though she'd likely end up disappointed to not find any fossils. "Sure, why not?"

"Yes!" She pumped her fist in the air. And for the rest of the journey home, she roared like a dinosaur. Typical, loopy Sophie.

Later, when Sophie was getting ready for bed, Mom started her tirade: I was a disappointment. I'd acted like an animal. Worse, I was a terrible role-model for Sophie. I tried to block it out but she just kept going until I couldn't take it anymore.

"But Mom, that bitch deserved—"

My cheek lit on fire as she slapped me. I was paralysed. She'd never hit me before.

"Don't you dare use that kind of language in this house. Not around Sophie. Go to the garage. Get out of my sight." Without another word, she turned and went upstairs.

I felt like I was in a daze. I didn't know whether to cry or scream. Instead, I just did as I was told. I went into the garage where Dad and I kept all our equipment for my training. I picked up the wooden machete and began practising fighting with it, just like Dad had shown me.

We'd been kicked out here because Mom refused to have any of this around Sophie. Monsters and weapons were never to be mentioned around her. She was never to know anything about hunting.

That night, while I was struggling to sleep, the door to my bedroom creaked open. I heard the pattering of small feet on the floor. Sophie climbed into my bed and snuggled beside me.

"I'm sorry you're sad."

The lingering pain from my mother's hand faded away.

Indiana, 1997. Age 16

"Come on, little squirt, dinner's ready," I called out. But as I got to Sophie's room, I realised it was empty. I knew instantly where she was. She'd found a new hidey-hole and a new hobby.

I jogged downstairs and out the front door.

Dad had got me a truck for my birthday. Well, that's what he told me, but we both knew it was for when I would start going out on hunts by myself. I couldn't wait! The truck wasn't anything spectacular, in fact, it looked a little too… green. But hey, if it meant I could have more freedom, then as far as I was concerned, green was my new favourite colour.

However, someone else had taken a particular liking to the truck. When I got closer to the truck, I could see the light from her little flashlight moving around inside. I snuck up beside the truck and slammed my face on the back driver's side window. "Boo!"

Sophie screamed and jumped. I laughed, knowing it was a little mean, but what were older sisters for?

She frowned and rolled down the window. "You nearly made me make a mistake." Not only had she started hanging out in my truck, but she also really liked drawing with markers on the back of my seat. To be fair, it gave the truck a little bit of life and she wasn't a bad artist for a seven year old. We simply made a pact that we weren't going to tell Dad about it.

"But did you make a mistake?" I asked as I leant into the truck.

"No," she grumbled.

"Then there's no harm done. Now come on, dinner's on the table."

She sighed. "Can't I just finish this bit of the drawing?"

"Which bit?"

"I have to finish your hair," she said, then put on a smirk. "Unless you wanna be bald."

That cheeky little...

I leaned forward more to see what she was talking about. It was a picture of—I was assuming—us. We were sat on the hood of the truck, waving. "Looks good to me. Now come on."

"But Rae—"

"If you don't sit your butt at that table in thirty seconds, it's gonna be my butt Mom woops."

She giggled at the image before reaching her arms out of the window.

"Oh you find that funny do you?" I rolled my eyes and reached forward to lift her out. She was getting far too heavy to carry, yet here I was. As soon as she was clear of the door, she wrapped her legs tight around my waist.

"Ralph finds that funny too," she said.

"Oh yeah, and which one is Ralph?"

She pointed up to the sky. "That one right there. He says it's funny when he sees you go to the toilet." She laughed until tears started streaming.

This was a game she liked to play. When the stars shining bright, she picked one out, gave it a random name and made up a wacky story about it. Her imagination would run wild. My favourite one recently had been about Derek. Derek enjoyed refereeing fighting matches between sharks in the ocean, while dressed as the Easter Bunny. And when no one was looking, he'd pick his nose and flick his bogies down to Earth. I had no idea how she came up with this stuff. Sometimes we'd sit out here for hours making up these characters for the stars, other times we'd just chill out in the truck.

Then Sophie started upping her game.

One day I was driving down our long driveway, heading to the main road. I was going into town because I was bored and wanted some ice cream. Just as I got to the road, I slowed the car down and stopped. There had been a muffled giggle from the backseat.

"You're gonna have to learn to be quieter than that if you wanna sneak out," I said.

To give her credit, I could have sworn she was in the kitchen with Mom just before I left. She certainly had the sneaking around thing down.

I sighed dramatically. "You may as well get up front."

There was a shuffle from the back before she climbed over to the front seat. She grinned up at me.

"And what exactly was your master plan here?" I asked.

"To spend time with the best sister on the planet." She also had the puppy dog eyes down to. She was one hell of a master manipulator.

"And what happens when Mom can't find you?"

She shrugged as she put on her seatbelt. "I left her a note."

Sometimes I worried I was rubbing off on her a little too much. But I guessed it could have been worse. Mom hadn't had to clean her mouth out with soap… yet. But I'd still probably get in trouble for this. I always did.

We drove to the ice cream shop and went inside. I ordered Sophie her mint chocolate chip in a cone, and got my rocky road. Once we had our ice creams, we sat in a booth. Before I could take a bite, my mood soured. Jackie and two of her buddies came in. She did a double take when she saw me sitting there. "Freak," she muttered as she walked past. She really needed to come up with some new material.

"That was mean," Sophie said. She had a small dollop of ice cream on her nose.

I reached over and wiped it off. "Don't worry about it. Some people are just born mean. Ignore her." But I could see Sophie wasn't able to let it go; she kept on looking over her shoulder at her with a scowl on her face. She looked like a little Chihuahua.

I didn't want anyone, especially Jackie, ruining her ice cream time, so I asked her, "So… got a boyfriend yet?"

It had the desired impact. She whirled back on her seat. "Eww! That's nasty."

Over by the counter, Jackie had got her ice cream in a tub and put it on the table behind us before going over to order something else. Sophie was watching and without hesitation, she leaned over her seat, reached out and knocked Jackie's ice cream to the floor. She turned back to face me, eyes wide as if she couldn't believe she'd done that. I was pretty sure I mirrored her look exactly because I couldn't believe my sweet little sister had done that either. And then realisation kicked in. I grabbed Sophie's hand and said, "Run!"

We each grabbed our ice creams—because priorities—and I grabbed her free hand as we dashed for the door. I all but threw Sophie into the passenger seat then ran around to get in and start the engine. As I pulled away, we burst into laughter. I caught Jackie in my rear-view mirror, running out of the shop. But we were already too far gone.

Through her laughter, Sophie asked, "Don't tell Mom?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Don't tell Mom."

Now

"Sounds like an awesome kid," Dean said.

"She was. She was just this bright light, you know?" Just as bright as the stars that shone above us as we sat there. Every time I sat and watched the stars, I would think of her. Then I'd wonder if she'd still be making up names and stories for each of them. Maybe she would have been too cool for that; she'd have been seventeen now—the same age I was when she died. I'd never know what she'd be like now. She never had the opportunity to grow up.

"I hated how my relationship with my parents changed," I continued. "More so my mom than my dad. I always felt like I was on the outside looking in. But I wouldn't have changed any of it because Sophie was there."

There were so many memories coming back to me now. So many times when we'd make each other laugh and smile. So many times when we said 'I love you' to each other.

But then it all got ripped away. My chest tightened when I began to replay that night in my head. "And then…"

Dean rested a hand on my arm. "You don't have to go there. Maybe it's enough just to remember the good times."

That seemed like the easy way out. By sharing the best moments, the love and laughter, I was painting a false narrative. For years I had kept the memory of that night and the following days locked down tight. No one else knew, aside from John. Maybe my true punishment was letting people know the real me and what I'd done.

My breath shook.

"I fucked up, Dean."

Indiana, 1998. Age 17

There were vampires in there, I was sure of it. Two of them. I'd watched them coming and going from the abandoned building on the edge of town for the past two nights. I was ready to take them down; I just needed to convince Dad I could. He'd let me go on a handful of solo hunts. Just last week I'd put a zombie back in its coffin. But I'd never handled a vampire before, let alone two of them. I could do it.

I drove home, ready to state my case. However, when I got inside, I knew something was up. Both Mom and Dad were sat at the dining room table, waiting for me to get home.

"What's going on?" I asked hesitantly.

My father stood up, looking weary. "Your mother and I have made a decision, one that benefits all of us."

"Ok."

He waited a beat before answering. "I'm not going to be hunting anymore… and neither are you."

It was like someone had dropped a bomb on me. I couldn't have heard him right. "What?"

"It's for the best," he said with a deep sigh.

The rug was being pulled out from under me and I didn't have anything to break my fall. What the hell was going on? "But… but I've been training for this since I was like six years old!"

"We need to think of everyone's safety." He stood behind my mother, who had barely looked at me, placing his hands on her shoulder. "It's time for us to be a proper family."

And just like that, a switch had been flicked. Anger blasted inside me. "A proper family?! You're joking right? I stopped being a part of this family a long time ago."

"That's not true." I knew from the look in his eyes that there was at least some truth to what I'd said. There was guilt there.

"Bullshit! You can't just take the only thing I have away from me!"

"Rae?"

Sophie was standing at the bottom of the stairs looking in. She was wearing her white nightdress, hugging her teddy bear and her eyes were bleary from sleep.

Mom moved over to her, putting her hands on her back to usher her upstairs. "Go back to sleep baby."

She stayed where she was, looking over at me uncertainly. I hated that she was worried.

"It's all good," I said with a smile. "I'll see you in the morning."

With a final look over her shoulder, she went back upstairs.

"We've made our decision—" Dad said firmly.

"Your decision, or her decision?" This had my mother written all over it. Dad wouldn't have given up hunting just like that.

"We decided together."

Lies. All of it. My father had turned into my mother's puppet.

"Well right this second, there are a couple of vampires crashing in a building on the outskirts of town. We supposed to leave them there? Just let them kill whoever?" He wasn't the man I thought he was if he could just turn his back on this.

He brushed a hand down his face. "There are other hunters around that can—"

"I can do this!" I pounded my fist on my chest. "You're the one that fucking taught me!"

My mom finally found her spine and opened her mouth. "You listen to me, you are not—"

"I don't have to follow your goddamn rules!" I erupted. "I'm not walking away from something I've been working towards my whole life! Screw this and screw you!" I stormed to the front door.

She jabbed her finger towards me. "You walk out that door, you will not be welcome back!"

This wasn't the first time my mother had thrown that at me, and it wouldn't be the last. She was nothing but empty threats. I stormed out of the house and climbed into my truck. I hit the gas, more ready than ever to hunt. The rage was vibrating through my body the entire drive. I couldn't think straight. How could they just drop that on me? Did they not know how much I wanted this? I wanted to help people. It was the only thing I was good at. It was the only thing I could see in my future. Did that really count for nothing with them? Well screw them both!

I parked down a ways from the building. I jogged around to the trunk to grab my machete. I was pissed and these vampires were gonna feel the full force of it.

There were several ways to get inside. When I saw the vamps coming and going, they always used the front, so I didn't want to go in that way. I needed the element of surprise. I crept round to the side entrance, hyper focused on any sounds that I could hear, but there was nothing save for my own steady breathing. The door opened into a kitchen. It was filthy, graffiti covered the walls, and most of the furnishings had been stripped away. There was a light coming from the room off to the side. I tiptoed forward, careful to dodge the glass scattered over the floor. I hid behind the wall and peeked into the other room. It was the entrance hall, with a wide staircase leading upstairs and a rusted, shattered chandelier hung from above. There were gas lamps around the room and sheets and pillows laid out on the floor. This was where they camped out. But where were they?

The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I spun, lashing out with the machete. The vampire dodged. The second one came up behind me and grabbed my arms, pulling them tight to my side.

"Looks like we caught a live one," he sneered into my ear.

My heart pounded; it only seemed to excite him more. I felt his mouth descend to my neck. I threw my head back into his, seeing stars, but it was enough that he loosened his grip. I swung again with the machete, but it lodged into his shoulder. He screeched and threw me across the floor. The side of my face burned as it grazed across the glass and bits of rubble. He threw the machete to the ground, clutching his bleeding wound.

Before I could get up, the first vampire climbed on top of me, his mouth stretching wide. My hands grappled blindly as my panic soared, searching for something to hit him with. I grabbed the first thing I made contact with—the gas lamp—and smashed it into his face. As he screamed, I buckled him off me and darted for my machete. I picked it up, hearing one of them charging for me. I whirled. The machete swung through the air. Blood sprayed and the vampire's head rolled away, his body slumping to the ground. One down.

The other vampire attacked from the side, his face burned from the lamp, and shoved me into the wall. I dropped the blade. His fangs descended towards my neck. I swung out with my fists. Left, then right. I kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backwards. Grabbing the machete, I lashed out with it just as he dove for me once more. Blood sprayed. Two down. Done.

I stood there, panting. I'd done it. I'd actually taken down two vampires by myself. "Holy shit."

I laughed. It sounded manic even to my ears. I guessed it was a mix of all the panic, I'd felt and the sheer elation at killing my first lot of vampires.

"Ahhhh!"

My blood turned to ice. The scream had come from down the hall. It was a child's scream.

I raced towards it, flinging every door open on the way until I came to the last room. I barged through it.

My world shattered. Every single breath I had in me was driven from my lungs. I stumbled into the room.

Sophie. Her broken, torn body lay in a growing pool of her own blood. Her bouncing blonde curls forever stained red.

This can't be real. It can't be. I'm having a nightmare. Wake up. WAKE UP!

But I wasn't waking up.

"Oh my—no, no, no, no. Nooo!" Pain like I'd never experienced before erupted from me on a deafening cry. I staggered towards her, but something gripped me from behind. There was a snarl, followed by a piercing pain in my neck. I didn't cry out. I just stared at Sophie. Her eyes were still open. They were looking right at me, begging me for help. The vampire lapping at my neck didn't matter because I'd be joining her soon.

The vampire was ripped away from me. I slumped to the floor. The sound of fighting carried on behind me. But I didn't care.

She looked so small. So pale. It wasn't right that she looked so lifeless. She was happy and joyful and funny. She wasn't this girl. It couldn't have been her.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." Someone, a man, pulled me up from the floor. He was trying to take me away from Sophie. I wasn't going to let that happen.

"No, no, no!" I screamed like a feral animal, kicking and lashing out. "I'm not leaving her! She's my sister! No! Please! Sophie!"

He managed to drag me from the room. I tried to fight him, but he was a lot bigger than me. But I couldn't leave her here. She'd be alone and scared. I was her big sister, I had to protect her. I reached back with my hand and raked my nails down his face. He yelled but didn't let go, instead he just dragged me away harder.

When we got outside into the cold night air, I collapsed. My throat tightened. My brain shut off. I went numb. This wasn't real.

The man took me over to his car and put me inside. I stared blindly out the window, unblinking. This wasn't happening. None of this was real. It couldn't be.

The man crouched down at my open door. "What's your name sweetheart?" he asked as he put something on my neck. I figured I must have been bleeding. He should have just let me bleed out. I heard him talking to me, but it sounded foggy, like he was far away. Or maybe it was me that was far away.

"I'm John," he continued, waiting for a response. I couldn't give him one.

"Where do you live?" He sighed when he continued to be met with silence.

"This is gonna sting a little." Whatever he was doing to my neck, I couldn't feel it.

"All done," he said. Then he left; I didn't know where to, but he came back a few minutes later. "Ok, Raelynn, I found your driver's license in your truck. I'm gonna take you home now."

I didn't want to go home. If that was even still my home. Going there would make it all real. How was I supposed to tell them that… I couldn't even think the words. As John drove, I leaned my head against the window and looked up. The stars were out. The brightest one, just next to the moon? That was Miss Bridgett. She liked to knit sweaters for the other stars and enjoyed dancing to disco music. The one just above her was J.J. He sung karaoke really badly and liked to tell the moon silly jokes. Who was I kidding? I wasn't as good as Sophie at this game.

In no time at all, John pulled up outside the house. It was so still and quiet but, in a few moments, it would turn into Hell. Actually, no. Hell was back at that abandoned building.

John helped me out of the car. I walked beside him, more zombie than human. As he knocked on the door, I took a step back, hiding myself behind him. I was a coward.

The door creaked open. I heard my father's gruff voice. "Who the hell are you?"

"That doesn't matter," John said. "Your daughter's been hurt."

He stepped to the side, and I looked up into my father's face. I must have looked terrible: my neck bleeding, one side of my face marred with cuts and scrapes. But that was nothing compared to what I was feeling inside. What he would be feeling inside too.

"You went after them, didn't you?" my father said to me, disappointment clear as day.

I said nothing.

John looked from me to my father. "Hold on." He looked my father up and down as if he could read every inch of him. "You're a hunter. You knew your daughter was out there alone fighting vampires? What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled.

"That's none of your damned business!"

"Keep your voices down, you'll wake Sophie." My heart felt like it was gripped in a vice at my mother's words. She appeared by my father's side, tying her robe shut. "Now what on earth is going on?"

John's voice had calmed and softened when he spoke next. "Sophie's your other daughter?"

My mother's brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you know that?"

"She was hurt." John's next words changed everything. Nothing was going to be the same again, not for any of us. "I'm sorry but, your daughter's dead."

My mother stood there for a moment as if she was trying to comprehend what he had said. Then she exploded. "Wh—what? How you come to my home and say that? You lying bastard!"

I wished, more than anything, that it was a lie. But I would never forget that image of my baby sister lying in that room.

"I'm sorry," John said again.

My mother ran upstairs, screaming her name.

My father looked pale, his knees already beginning to shake. "Please tell me you're mistaken."

My mother screamed and came running back down the stairs. "She's not here. She's not in her bed!" Then her gaze locked with mine. In that moment, I knew what it felt like to be prey, knowing the predator had you locked in its sights. "What did you do?"

The tears started again; my limbs shook. "I—I didn't know she—she was in the truck… I didn't mean for…" I couldn't form the right words. There were no right words.

"No, no, no. You're lying." She gripped John's shirt tight in her fists. "Take me to see my daughter. Now!"

It was agreed that John would take my father to collect Sophie. He'd looked reluctant to leave me alone with my mother, but they eventually took off in my father's truck. I sat on the steps, trembling, while my mother paced up and down the porch. She was talking to herself, running her hands through her hair, completely oblivious to my presence.

I was glad they were going to get her. She shouldn't have been left alone in such an ugly, scary place. She needed to be home, where she belonged, where she was loved. I stared out at the yard, at the empty swing that was gently moving back and forth in the wind. I thought back to all the times we'd play there, her yelling for me to push her higher and higher, just like I used to with our father. She wouldn't get to go higher on the swings anymore.

It felt like hours had passed before they came back, driving slowly up the driveway. Hell, for all I knew, days could have passed. But she was finally home.

My dad climbed out of the backseat. From here I could see the devastation on his face. He reached back in and pulled out a small figure wrapped in a white sheet. I broke. I buried my head in my legs, wrapping my arms around my knees, rocking back and forth, sobbing like a child. She was really gone. I had done this to her. My little baby sister was dead.

"No, no." I would never forget the sound of my mother's agonising screams for as long as I lived. "My baby! No! You did this!"

I was shoved. I tumbled down the steps, landing hard in the dirt.

"Stay the hell back." John stood in front of me, pushing my mother away. He should have let her at me. I deserved everything I got.

I was barely able to see through my tears, but I could make out the venomous look she sent me. Then she walked over to where my father had kneeled down on the ground, cradling Sophie to him. My mother knelt beside him. They wept together.

My father looked up. "You need to leave now." He wasn't talking to John.

"I'm sorry." I knew nothing was going to fix what I had done, but I was sorrier than they would ever know. "I didn't mean—"

"Now!" he roared.

John knelt beside me and gradually raised me up on my feet. "Come on, Raelynn," he said gently. He guided me back to his truck and for one last time, I drove away from my sister, wishing more than anything in the world, to hear her muffled giggling from the backseat.

Now

The tears were coming in waves now. "If I had just checked the backseat… Hell, if hadn't been so goddamn selfish…"

Even Dean's voice sounded broken when he said, "You were just a kid yourself—"

"She died scared, alone and in pain. Because of me." There were no excuses, no arguments that could be made to defend my actions that had led to Sophie's final moments on this earth.

"You can't blame yourself for that. If anyone's to blame, it's those bastard vampires."

I nodded. "And I took her right to them." I'd served her to them on a goddam silver platter. Some sister I was, huh?

"You didn't know." I kept my gaze away from Dean as he continued to try and make me feel better—if that was his aim, he was fighting a losing battle—as I couldn't bear to see how he'd look at me. There was no going back now; he knew my darkest pain.

"If I'd have checked the backseat..." I had been so full of anger after that stupid argument with my parents that I had neglected to do that one little thing. "I always did once she'd started to try and sneak away with me. But I was just so full of rage…" If I was able to go back to that night and change it, I would do it in a heartbeat. If I could just change places with her, I would. She's the one who should be alive, not me.

"She'd hate that you're doing this to yourself," Dean said.

"I know. But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. It doesn't change the facts."

"Yeah... I know."

We sat there in silence for a while. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt now that I'd finally told someone about what had happened that night. The pain was too consuming at the moment to see if baring my soul had made it any lighter. But I doubted it. That would be far too easy.

"Have you seen your mom and dad since?"

I almost laughed at Dean's question. Oh, my sins had caused a lot more damage than I had told him.

"Well, I've come this far," I said. "I may as well tell you all of it."

Then

Indiana, 1998. Age 17

2 Weeks Later

I hadn't been allowed to go to the funeral; hadn't been allowed to say my final goodbyes. My parents hadn't spoken to me since that night. I didn't even know if they knew where I was. And the truth of it was, I didn't think they cared.

There was a knock on the motel door.

"Raelynn?"

At John's voice, I got up from the bed and opened it. He came inside, carrying a bag of groceries. I didn't know why he bothered. Everything that he bought ended up getting thrown out.

That night, he had taken me back to the motel he was staying at and got me a room. He had tried to talk to me, to ask if I was ok, but I was pretty much comatose. He'd cleaned up my wounds more thoroughly, then left me to sleep. But there was no sleep to be had.

He set the food down on the table.

"Maybe this time you'll eat something. I know it's difficult, believe me I know, but you need to keep your strength up."

For what? My life was over. I'd be doing the world a favour if I just sat here and wasted away.

He sighed. "Listen, I have to go. I need to check on my boys." He had told me one night that he had sons, Dean and Sam, around my age. He'd been trying to get me to open up, but it hadn't worked. "I've paid for the room for another couple of weeks. I promise I'll come back and check on you when I can."

"Ok." John's words were just that: words. I didn't expect to be seeing him again. He didn't owe me anything.

"Call me if you need me." Just as he had done that night, John didn't seem too keen on leaving me, but he walked out the door, and I was left once more with my own thoughts.

As the next days passed, just as the others had, all I could do was replay that night over again and again. Even in the times I could sleep, I was haunted by it. I kept seeing her face over and over. Kept seeing her body torn, bruised and bloody. I didn't want to remember her like that. I wanted to feel close o her again. I wanted her back.

I made a decision. It was one that I'd probably live to regret if I got caught, but I needed to be with my sister. For the first time in almost three weeks, I left the motel. The sun was blinding, a shock to the system. I began walking, deciding to leave my truck where John had parked it. With every step I was more determined, yet more unsure the closer I got. Was this only going to make the pain worse?

I finally reached my house. If I could even call it that now. I crept round to the back and opened the door, praying no one was home. Everything was quiet. The house looked the same, aside from the build up of dishes in the sink and the light coating of dust on the kitchen tops. With one destination in mind, I headed for the stairs. Once I got to the top, I turned down the hallway towards Sophie's room. I was sure they would have left it just as it was. They wouldn't have wanted to—

As I walked into Sophie's room, I bumped into something. Someone.

I looked up and stumbled back, tripping over my own feet, and falling to the floor.

My mom. She… she…

I screamed. The tears burned as they fell. I scrambled up and ran back down the stairs. I flung the front door open and flew down the porch stairs. I fell to my knees and threw up. I couldn't… she'd…

I fumbled with my cell phone, eventually managing to dial 911.

"My—my mom. She—she's dead," I cried to the operator. I vaguely recalled giving her my address. And then I hung up.

I ran back to the motel like the coward I was. I slammed the door behind me, closed the curtains, shutting the world out. I slumped down at the end of the bed.

I had done this. I'd done it again. Her body had been swaying back and forth after I walked into her. Her face mottled black and blue. I should have cut her down. I shouldn't have left her like that.

I sat there for hours, my mind bouncing back and forth between what I'd done to Sophie and what I'd ultimately done to Mom.

The door to my room burst open. My dad came charging in, gun in hand. He threw me down to the floor and stuck the gun in my face. I had never been so terrified in my life. He was blinded by rage. His breath reeked of alcohol. His eyes were bloodshot.

"Look what you've done! Why did you have to go that night? Why didn't you listen?! They're dead! They're both dead because of you!" He spat in my face as the words spewed out of him.

He was going to kill me! I cried, too stunned to fight him off.

"I have no one because of you! I never should have brought you home that night. I brought the devil himself into our home. And I've paid the price." Then he leaned back and cocked the gun, slowly lowering it back down until it was touching my forehead. "Leave town." His words were now eerily calm. "Get out of here because if I see you again… I'll pull the trigger."

Now

"Sonofabitch!" Dean snarled. "So he lost one daughter and threw away the other?"

Maybe it sounded bad, how I'd told it, but I could understand his actions that night. Even if they had frightened the life out of me. They still did even now. "Because of me, he'd lost everything."

"That's not—"

"I was expendable… because I was never truly theirs." It had taken me a while to acknowledge that fact. It's why Mom had begun to withdraw from me when Sophie was born, why Dad trained me to hunt and not Sophie. It didn't really matter if anything happened to me.

"I knew my father meant what he said," I continued, going back to that moment in my mind. "So once he'd left and I'd managed to get over the shock, I started packing my stuff. Just as I was about to drive away, John pulled up. He gave me fake ID's, credit cards in random names. I told him what had happened, told him why I needed to leave." He'd looked like he wanted to hunt my father down and give him a world of pain. "And John had tried to get me to go back with him, to be with you boys, but I refused. I took the ID's and never turned back."

Dean was silent. He was probably thinking what I was: what would have happened if our paths had crossed then? What would life have been like now? We'd never know.

"I never thanked John for saving my life or for helping me get out of there. You know why?" The pain of the realisation stung, because I'd never even admitted this to myself. But for some reason, sitting here under the stars, on my truck next to Dean, it was easy to see. "Because I've never actually been grateful that he did. I was so lost and alone afterwards... I think I still am. I deserve every bit of suffering I get."

"That's bullsh—"

I sighed, feeling empty. "Can we not? Can we just sit here?" There was definitely a weight lifted off my shoulders; I felt kinda light-headed. I had nothing left to give at that moment. Nothing left to say. It was all out in the open.

As I sat there, gazing up at the stars, Dean reached over and pulled me into his side. It wasn't a hug. It wasn't an embrace. He was simply telling me he was here. And for once, I was glad he was.

I woke up from a dreamless sleep. I looked around the motel room, not entirely sure how I'd gotten back to my bed. Last thing I remembered was sitting on the truck with Dean, my eyelids getting heavy. Had he… carried me back? And why was that thought so mortifying? I'd spilled my guts to him last night and that was what I was worried about? Talk about having screwed up priorities.

I got dressed, ready to leave this town and the pain it brought with it behind me.

I stepped outside and stopped short. Dean was making his way out of his motel room. We both stared at each other.

"Morning," I managed to say.

"Morning."

I had to clear the frog in my throat as I made my way over to him. "I guess I have a couple of things to say." I blew out a breath. "First… thanks. For you know… letting me talk." I couldn't believe I had told him all of that. And yet here he was, looking at me without disgust. Yet, saying that, he did look slightly uncomfortable himself.

"No problem," he said.

"Secondly, can we act like last night ever happened? I don't want you going around feeling sorry for me or something. And I don't want to have to punch you in the throat for ever mentioning it again."

He bit back a smile. "But I do feel sorry for you."

Great. Just great. I pinched the skin between my eyes. "See? That's what I don't wa—"

"I feel sorry that you continue to ride around in that ugly-ass green tractor. Seriously, I think you should sell it for scrap or something. You might get around, I dunno… three hundred dollars for it."

Damn him. Damn him for knowing just what I needed. Fighting with Dean here in the present was easy. It had become something like second nature to me. Living in the past was anything but easy. And Dean was throwing me a lifeline.

"Are you ever gonna to let that go?" I said, a smile creeping onto my face.

He scoffed. "Not in this lifetime. Unless you pay me back every last cent. And funnily enough, I have just the plan of how you could do that." The salacious smirk told me all that I needed to know about this plan of his.

"Pig."

We smiled at one another. We were back to normal. Just how I needed it.

The boys' motel room door opened, and Sam stepped out. He definitely hadn't slept. He looked like he'd been traversing Hell itself.

"Hey, Sam. I…" It never got easier—finding the right words. So I stopped trying. Instead, I flung my arms around him, squeezing him tight. He froze for a moment, then his arms wrapped around me and he squeezed me back. As his arms tightened, it was as if he was telling me he needed this. We both did.

I stepped back and looked up at him. "Look after yourself, alright?"

"Thanks, Rae." He said, managing a small smile.

The boys climbed into the truck. Dean and I locked gazes one more time before he pulled away. Everything and nothing was said in that one look.

This had been one hell of a time. A hell of a case. Sam's wounds were fresh. In time they would heal, but they would leave a scar that would never fade.