Her, To Home

Chapter#11

She was standing in the park. The image felt so real and yet she knew she wasn't there. Looking down on her hands, they almost felt transparent in the evening sun which was passing its brightness right through her.

Familiar laughs made her freeze for a second before she slowly turned to see the memory chasing past her. The two children holding hand felt so out of place.

She couldn't breathe.

She didn't know she still had this memory.

She recognized them almost immediately. How could she not? Dean looked older from his eight-year-old self and she looked younger compare to her four-year-old. She could still remember the touch of his hand as he had held it tightly since her mother had told him to take care of her.

She watched in awe as he patiently walked, matching the pace of her younger version as she kept falling and tripping over nothing. Every now and then brushing her clothes for the dirt and trying his best to support her little body with his own.

Now, looking at everything from someone else's sight- she could see it. In that little boy's eyes, and touch and laugh- she could see it, the adoration he held for her. How his eyes never left her face, how he would walk beside her. Each action was already screaming that he was in love with her.

Dean has been in love with her since she was four. Or maybe even before that.

Why have she been so blind since forever?

She could her heart race so fast it was getting painful.

The wind suddenly picked up and she closed her eyes tightly, it felt like the earth was spinning with full speed till it suddenly stopped. She opened her eyes carefully to see herself standing in her room. But it was not the sight she had seen since she entered high school. The walls were green and the bed was small. Stuff toys were spread all over the room. Her younger version was crying while being held by Dean. She remembered the memory; she was ten and it was the first time Dean had come to her bleeding.

She could hear her own silent cries echoing in the silent night. Dean was whispering something but she didn't bother to come closer to hear because she still remembered them.

He had kept telling her that it's okay, he was fine. He was okay. It didn't hurt. It will heal, it was okay. He loved her, more than this life.

"Stop crying, I beg you. Stop crying."

In the light of moon, she saw something she had not noticed that time. A silent tear which had fallen from Dean's eyes as he had begged her to stop crying, twisted everything inside her.

If she could shout, she would have shouted for her past self to stop crying.

But she couldn't do anything- like a paralyzed body, she could only see it all helplessly.

The wind picked up again and this time she didn't close her eyes but kept her eyes on the disappearing image of her memory till a new memory was standing in front of her.

It was her middle school hallway. A few high schoolers had surrounded her small figure, caging her against the bathroom stalls.

They did not feel as big as they had at that time. She could see her figure staring at them in confusion, not knowing what they were doing.

She wanted to laugh. It seemed too obvious now. Why was it so hard to figure at that time?

But instead of looking at herself, her eyes were on the door of the bathroom. She knew it would burst open any second and it did. Breaking the whole door, Dean had entered looking as furious as she could ever remember. She knew she had never seen him this angry. It was the first time she had come eye to eye with Dean everyone feared and she remembered feeling nothing but relief seeing that side of his.