The drive back to Bobby's place was a blur. I just sat in silence, watching trees and cars go by. I honestly don't remember if anyone even tried to talk to me.
Bobby had reinforced the panic room with angel-banishing symbols, so we figured it was the safest place for us. After we got Sam safely into the panic room, I fell asleep on a cot in the corner of the room.
The next moment, I found myself back in the dreaded chair, tied up and facing Kieran again.
"Good morning, beautiful," he said with a smile.
Panic set in, and I desperately tried to convince myself that it was just another nightmare. "This isn't real," I quivered.
Kieran smiled, taunting me, "You sure about that?"
"This is just a dream," I said as I closed my eyes tightly, trying to wake myself up.
"Does this feel like a dream?" he asked before smashing my hand with a sledgehammer.
I screamed out in agony. My fingers were going in unnatural directions, and my hand was bleeding from just one blow. He raised the sledgehammer again.
"No! No! No!" I shouted, shutting my eyes again in terror.
"Maddison! Hey, hey!" Dean's voice cut through the nightmare, and I opened my eyes to find him looking at me worried. I must've been fighting with him because I was sitting up, and he had his hands on my wrists.
"Get off me!" I yelled, pushing him away, and quickly stood up. I rushed toward the door, my heart pounding.
"Hey, will you talk to me?!" Dean called after me as I left the room.
As I turned the corner and headed up the stairs, the anxiety overwhelmed me, and I began to hyperventilate.
Nate ran down the stairs toward me. "I heard yelling. Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to touch me.
I waved Nate's hand away. "Don't," I stated firmly, not wanting him to touch me.
I felt completely overwhelmed, and I needed some space. I ran past him, feeling the urgency to escape. Once I reached the landing, I took off toward the bathroom. I slammed the door shut and threw up in the toilet. After rinsing my mouth and taking a deep breath, I slid down against the wall, feeling utterly broken and defeated.
My hand was still throbbing from the nightmare, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw the image of it mangled. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to compose myself.
"Okay, Maddi, get it together," I whispered, trying to muster the strength to get through this.
I took one more deep breath and stood up, facing my reflection in the mirror. I looked broken and scared, and anger washed over me. How could I let those jackass demons win? I was so angry that I couldn't stop myself from punching the mirror. It shattered across the image of my face, and I just kept going until my hand throbbed. I stopped when I noticed blood dripping down the broken glass. The realization of what I had just done hit me, and I looked down at my hand. Small bits of glass were in it, and a shard stuck between my knuckles.
"Oh, crap, crap, crap," I said as I rinsed my hand in the sink, trying to remove the tiny bits of glass. Just as I was about to pull out a shard stuck between my knuckles, Bobby knocked on the door, startling me.
"Maddi? You okay?" he asked with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, hoping he would just leave me alone.
"You sure? Sounded like some–" he began to say.
"Please, go away," I interrupted.
After a moment, I heard him sigh, and his footsteps disappeared down the hall. With a sigh of relief, I focused back on my injured hand, carefully removing the remaining glass and rinsing the wound until it stopped bleeding. To my surprise, I noticed that I was healing. I watched as all the cuts in my hand healed. For some reason, a sense of calm washed over me, and for a brief moment, I felt okay, as if I were safe again. It was something I hadn't felt in a long time, but it also made me feel guilty for enjoying it. I shook my head and began cleaning the bathroom the best that I could.
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Maddison Winchester: Journal 6 {Supernatural} (Editing)
Misterio / SuspensoAll hunters know that the only way out of "the life" is through death. Dean and Maddison, on the other hand, appear to have managed to simply step away and retire. Will a life behind a white picket fence be enough to keep them occupied, or will some...