Well Kept Secrets

Well Kept Secrets: pt 2

The car rolled up outside Clark High School at about noon. It was a relatively small campus, with a large front entrance and a small parking lot. Dean parked the car and took out the slip of paper that the sheriff had given them. As they walked in the front entrance, they were immediately greeted by large posters trying to dissuade students from using drugs and alcohol.

"Like that's going to help," Dean scoffed.

"Do you always have to be such a pessimist Dean?" Sam asked in an annoyed voice.

"I'm just saying, no kid is going to stop smoking because a poster with a Christmas elf on it told him it would get him off the naughty list."

Sam merely rolled his eyes at Dean. He was beginning to worry that letting Dean talk to a fragile high school student whose parents were just killed was a bad idea. He decided to just stay silent, and to voice his opinions later if it became necessary.

"Ms. Wells?" Sam asked at the front attendance window.

"Yes how can I help you boys?" said a young blonde woman.

Sam shot Dean a look that clearly meant for Dean to keep his mouth shut while Sam did the talking.

"Well see we're students at the local college and we're working on a documentary and we were wondering if you could give us a list of Brynn Wilson's teachers, we'd like to ask them some questions."

"Oh yes. Terrible, just awful what she's been through. Just give me a moment and I'll be right back."

A moment later the woman returned. Sam gave the schedule a quick peek and thanked the woman for her help. The first class listed was Algebra 2. Dean poked his head into the classroom where a middle aged man with a scruffy beard was sitting.

"Mr. Heyn?"

"Yes. What can I help you with?"

"We're students at the local college an we're working on a documentary, an we were wondering what you could tell us about Brynn Wilson," Sam gave the same speech he had given the woman at the office.

"Well, she was always very quiet. Raised her hand in class just enough to get her participation grade. She didn't say much, but she's probably one of the smartest students in my class. She's got 102%, which is shocking considering her situation."

"Situation?" Dean asked.

"Well, she was having problems with depression and self-harm, and often times with those kinds of kids you see their grades drop, but not her."

"Well, thank you for your time."

"Absolutely."

Sam and Dean left the classroom and consulted the schedule. "Marilyn Lewdas?" Dean was very curious about the teacher who taught dance. They followed a student's directions to the cafeteria where the stage had been transformed into a dance studio with mirrors covering one entire wall and barres pushed to one side of the room. The only person there was a woman who looked to be in her mid twenties, with curly red hair and wearing striped tights, black running shorts, and a purple knitted tank top. Sam noticed Dean's hungry eyes crawling all over the woman, and gave him a firm elbow in the side, along with a disapproving scowl.

"Ms. Lewdas?" Dean asked.

"Please, call me Ms. L," the woman answered.

Sam decided to abandon the sales pitch and cut right to the chase.

"We understand that you were one of the first people who noticed that Brynn was cutting herself?" Sam asked tentatively.

"Yes. For a while she had been wearing long sleeves to dance class, but I really didn't think anything of it. One day it was particularly warm and she rolled up her sleeves. It looked as though she had tried to cover her cuts with band aids, but there were some that were still pretty obvious."

"And, what was she like during class? Did she start seeming depressed or anything like that?" Dean asked.

"It was hard to tell, because her dancing was always so expressive. Sometimes she would seem like she had not a trouble in the world, and some days it looked like she had just lost everyone she cared about. She was a phenomenal dancer though. I don't think I've ever had a student who was that talented at the beginning of the year, and she's only gotten better."

"Well, we should be going now," Sam said loudly after he noticed Dean once again giving the woman hungry looks, "But thank you for your help,".

As they made their way up the stairs to the English classroom, Sam began reprimanding Dean about working a job, but Dean didn't appear to be listening.

"Ms. Porter?"

The plump woman sitting at the desk answered "Ms. Porter is not here today. Can I help you with something?"

"Oh no, just looking around," Dean said hurriedly as he and Sam left the classroom.

It took Sam and Dean a while to find the band room, which was tucked in a corner. It was a small building, and standing outside were a couple people. One was sitting on a bench eating a bag of chips, while the others were spinning brightly colored silks, and one looked like she was tossing a sword in the air.

"Maybe we should talk to them," Dean suggested. "They might spill more gossip than the teacher."

"Alright," Sam agreed, although he wasn't very fond of using school gossip as basis for a case. Sam and Dean approached the kids, and introduced themselves. This time, Sam told them that they were from a local newspaper, figuring the kids would spill anything to get their names in the paper. The kids were more helpful than all of the teachers together. Brynn Wilson had showed up at Clark High School, and within days had half a dozen boys following her like lost puppies. It only took a few day to see that she was practically a genius, which only made the boys like her more. She joined the marching band, and according to the kid with the chips, practice was one of the only times she smiled. She was pretty shy, but when she did talk, she was quite the sass-master. A couple months ago, she had showed up to practice late, and looked like she had been crying. She refused to talk to anyone, and when someone asked about the band aids covering her left forearm, she practically punched him. Next day, the counselor pulled her out of class, and after that, no one heard from her.

"Do any of you know someone named Mark?" Dean asked, remembering what the sheriff had told them.

"Of course. Last year, him and Brynn were practically inseparable. Then, word got out that she liked him as a little more than a friend. He didn't return the feelings, and they had a big fight. Didn't speak to each other again."

Before Dean could ask any more questions, the bell signaling dismissal to the next class rang and the kids dashed inside to grab their stuff and go to their next class. Sam and Dean had a quick conversation and decided it was worth a shot to talk to the counselor.

"We'd like to know whatever you can tell us about Brynn Wilson."

"Well, strictly speaking, our conversations are confidential, but I can give you a little information. I'm sure everybody has told you this already, but I'll say it again. She had potential. She was very intelligent, a wonderful musician, and a fair artist too. She was very bright, and I hope she'll come back to school at some point."

"And did you ever find out why she was cutting herself?"

"Well, at first she would barely say anything, but eventually I got the truth out of her."

"And..."

"She found out she was adopted."

"But, why would she hurt herself because of that?" Sam asked. "Tons of kids are adopted."

"Well, I think it was because her parents never told her. It looks like they were planning on keeping it that way. I'm afraid I have an appointment to go to, but I hope I could help you boys."

"Of course. One last question though," Dean asked before the counselor could leave. "Where is Brynn now? We'd really like to talk to her."

The counselor pulled a business card out of his pocket and placed it in Dean's hand. It read:

San Mateo County Psychiatric Ward

Teen Ward, Level 3

Supervisor: Dr. Laura Schaffer