Ella Winchester is the youngest of the Winchester siblings. She grows up surrounded by the supernatural. Raised by her father John Winchester to be a hunter along side her two big brothers Dean and Sam.
Author's Note:
This story is my own spin on th...
We stopped at a gas station before heading over to Sam's apartment in Stanford, California.
As Dean was fueling up the Impala I reached into my backpack and pulled out my journal. Writing in my journal kinda makes me feel closer to my Dad. When I was little I would always watch him write in his and thought it was interesting, so I started to create one of my own. I used a coloring book as my first journal and wrote all in crayons. I was six at that time and found it funny that Dad kept it after all these years. I always wanted to look at it and see what deep thoughts I had as a six year old. Probably really funny to look at now, but back then it seemed very important whatever I was writing and drawing. Well, I've been journaling and sketching ever since. Plus I have to do something to keep my hands busy while on these long car rides or I was gonna go completely nuts & drive Dean crazy too.
In my journal I like to write about the hunts we go on, the places we've been, and details from the weird dreams I've been having. It was almost like my diary. I also liked to sketch different things that interest me, and things related to the hunts we went on, like the monsters we hunted, but something weird has been going on ever since my thirteenth birthday. Whenever I sketch in my journal, weird things just appear on the paper. I didn't understand, but I couldn't help, but draw these random things. Like this silhouette of a man.
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He looked beyond creepy and I didn't know why I drew him, but there he was taking up space in my journal. It felt like I needed to draw these things, like they were important for some reason I didn't quite understand. The next sketch that I thought was random was of a small V.W car at night on a bridge. It was weird, but I keep thinking it's all due to my lack of sleep. Seriously, three hours of sleep isn't doing me any good.
I keep having this weird reoccurring dream about a woman with blond hair and blue eyes sitting on a bench in a really pretty park. She's always writing in a journal and every time I try to look to see what she's writing she either closes the book before I can see or gets up and walks away. Then the dream ends and I wake up feeling so cold like I was in a freezer. I don't know what the dream means, but something about the woman seems so familiar it's like I've seen her somewhere before.
When I was done writing, I shut my journal and placed it in my backpack. I turned around and grabbed the discarded food containers that were piling up on the back seat. Then I got out of the car while holding all the trash Dean and I managed to accumulate from the many diners/fast food places we had stopped at along the way.
The moment I started to walk towards the trash can Dean called me out,"Elle!"
"What?"I asked as I turned towards him.
"Where do you think you're going?"He questioned with his brow raised as he stared me down.
I held up all the trash in my hands and smirked as I sarcastically answered, "To China. Where do you think I'm going?"
