The Little Half Sister

Chapter 3

When I got home my mom was already relaxing at home. I set my stuff down and go lock myself in my room. I flop down on to the bed, "swooning" over what had happened earlier. I spend my afternoon on my phone before getting ready for dance. Since it was Friday, I only had dance from 5-6.

*After dance*

The second I walk through the door, I can smell one of my favorite dinners. Beef stew and rice. I go rush upstairs to change and freshen up.

I put a pair of leggings and a big sweatshirt and go to the bathroom. I wash my face and take out my contacts before hearing a loud crash come from downstairs. I run down the stairs only to see a perfectly clean living room. I figured my mom had just dropped a plate in the kitchen. The only minor difference was that now the entire place smelled of sulfur. I go to walk in the kitchen, but before I can get there I see something red out of the corner of my eye. I turn around slowly, my eye growing wider with each step. I see my mom in a pool of her own blood, her throat slit so deep the cut nearly sliced her arteries entirely in half.

I bend down on my knees sitting next to her, my hands cupped on her cheeks as I search for any sign of life in her eyes. There is a small note sitting on her stomach, crumpled up in a ball.

Hello, sweetheart. I know that you're probably wondering who did this, right? Who could do such a horrible thing? Well, here's the thing. Your big brothers kinda fucked my life up. Got me locked back up in hell and ever since then, well, ask 'ol Dean-o about that one. I'm sure he can explain it to you right before you are dragged down with me.

I just sit there, taking everything in. I didn't know what to do, I had never been told what to do. I rush into the kitchen and search through the drawers. I knew the number was somewhere. I finally find the crumpled up piece of paper, Winchester messily scrawled across the top of it. I dial the number into my cell and wait for someone to pick up.

"Hello?" Says a deep, rough voice. The man sounds almost groggy, as if he just woke up from a nap.

"H- hi." I say in a very shaky voice from holding back tears. "I- um- something happened and I- uh- I need someone to come help."

"Then call the police. Goodbye." He says, nearly hanging up on me.

"Wait! Wait, please. The- the police can't help with this. I kinda need someone that's in the- uh- business." I say, hoping that this really is one of the Winchesters.

"What happened?" The man says, his tone of voice suddenly changing.

"Well, um, I think a demon may have killed my mom. And it's possibly because of my relation to the Winchesters." I blurt out, hoping it doesn't sound as weird as I think.

I hear nothing but dead air on the other line, and set my phone down. I slide my back down the wall and place my head in my knees. I always thought I would be able to avoid. That I'd be able to live a normal life. That no demons or anything else would find out my direct relation to Sam and Dean.

I suddenly hear my phone vibrate. I push myself up to my feet and pick it up, weary of what it might say.

Kyle: Hey, Cetta. What do you wanna do this weekend?