Bruises

3

A/N I've had a really rough day.
Once Cas and I got off the bus I didn't see him again.
School was alright. I wish I had seen Cas again though.
No one talked to me, but I didn't blame them any. If anyone had tried to talk to me I probably wouldn't listen anyway.
I didn't go to math class. Or Spanish either. I sat behind the ivy on a fence that separated the school from the field behind it and smoked.
I hate myself.
So fucking much.
It feels like my lungs are on fire and my head is a sealed chimney suffocating from the smoke.
Or that's the cigarettes.
I looked at my arm today and I nearly threw up.
I didn't know what to do instead so I picked at my fingers until they bled onto the grass.
Blood looks beautiful in nature.
Out of context that sounds like I'm a psychopath.
Maybe I am.
Once I got home my momma' was in an uproar. I don't know why, but for some reason it was even better than her just sitting and staring at walls.
I ignored her angry cries and trotted to Sam's room.
He was crying.
"Sammy? You all right?" I ask as I awkwardly stand in between the room and hall.
He mumbles something in return, but stays crying and trembling like he had seen a ghost.
"Sam. Answer me." I command.
Before I even know what I'm doing I'm running into the room my hands quickly latching onto his wrists and pulling them from his face.
"Who did this?" My tone softens, his cheek is red and eye bruised.
"Mom." He whispers.
I guess mom has quick hands too.
"I'll be right back." I say as I pat his knee and start heading back to my mother.
Take it out on my sure but take it out on my little brother and you'll wish you never touched him.
"What the hell did you do?" I scream, my heartbeat is going off the charts.
Anger carries me and rage boils like it's been on the fire to long in my chest.
"I didn't mean to do that to him Dean." She stops angrily hitting her fists on the table.
"Bullshit!" I spit, teeth bared like a dog bout' to bite.
"It's your father Dean." She takes a step away from me.
I stop so quickly I'm quickly surprised my feet could even manage.
I gulp, "what?"
"Sam was pestering me after I got some news and I didn't mean to hit him I'm sorry. My poor boys." Tears threatened to spill from her eyes but I don't care. 
"What about my father." My voice struggles to keep steady as my hand reaches to my arm.
"He's out of jail. It's just a matter of time before he gets to us."
I wish I was never born.