You Found Me |Sam Winchester| [2015 Wattys Winner]

1. "Dakota?"

1. "Dakota?"

            This didn't make it any easier, going to see them. But I had to. They'd make me feel better, give me motivation to keep going.

            I'd known the way to the cemetery since the first murder in the neighborhood. After a while, you went by the landmarks to get to it. It's an overcrowded place. Some stones were unkempt due to neglect. I came by when I could to brush around their burial places. I couldn't let their areas get dirty.

            I was alone as I entered the cemetery. Usually people didn't bother to visit their dead loved ones with the weather being nicer. It was May, lovely spring weather. Everything was in bloom, the temperature was tolerable. Everything seemed normal.

            A twinge of regret settled in me when I got before their tombstones. If I had had the money, I would have gotten them something. Hell, I would have picked flowers for them. I felt that they needed something, an indication to them that I didn't forget about them.

            Three tombstones, all bearing the same last name: Bailey. Nathan Bailey, my father. Katherine Bailey, my mother. Monica, my little sister. I was the lone survivor of the family. I had no one to turn to. I had family, but not in Maryland. I couldn't afford a plane ticket. I had no car. I had money, I was sure of it, but I didn't know any account information. I used to, but I lost the information and couldn't remember it, as hard as I tried to.

            I was shit out of luck.

            I stuffed my hands into my pockets, hanging my head.

            "I'm back," I said quietly. "Somehow I know you can hear me. Things have changed so much since you all bit it." I pulled my head up to let the tears fall. "If I had known sooner...I could have stopped it. I could have saved all of you." There was a ghost of a wind blowing my short, dark hair. "It doesn't matter now. Life doesn't give us redos. What I wouldn't give to have just one..."

            I didn't wipe away the tears. It was usual to weep before my family's graves. I wanted them to show as apparitions, to assure me that they were okay, and that they didn't blame me for their deaths. That was just it. I felt responsible for letting that all happen. If anyone should blame me for their deaths, it should be me.

            "If you're somehow watching, please stop," I told them. "There's nothing you can do to help me. I'm on my own. I guess I always have been. I-I should have told you guys the truth." I laughed wryly. "You probably would have locked me up if I had. But maybe you wouldn't have. I don't know. I'm just glad no one is around to hear me." I looked around to confirm my suspicion.

            I saw the sun was beginning to set. I sighed heavily. I had to make myself scarce soon before the caretaker shooed me away and tried to call the police on me. I needed to find shelter anyway; I wasn't about to risk making camp in a cemetery with nothing but the clothes in my backpack and on my back.

            "Well, goodbye for now," I told the graves. "I'll most likely be back tomorrow. I love you...so much."

            I exhaled shakily, feeling my legs tremble. You can get through it. Deep breaths, like last time. You'll visit sometime soon. On those parting thoughts, I turned on my heels and abandoned my family.

            I kept myself on the sidewalk as I roamed the streets of Maryland. I pursed my lips as I tried to find my temporary shelter for the night. Who's away on vacation? Who's on a night shift? I avoided eye contact with a few passersby and kept my head down. Nobody needed to identify me.