Memoirs of the Supernatural - Phase 3 [COMPLETED]

Sigil 3

I know it's late.

But there is a lot left to discuss.

I had no memory of Slaidburn which mustn't be surprising if you keep it in mind that I was a baby when I was there. It was a lovely old rural village with only a few hundred people populating its streets. And when I say "old" I mean old. The buildings aren't like how you imagine a classic British town. Everything was made of stones instead of wood as one would normally expect and had an years of the medieval age feel to it.

(🎶David Bowie - Golden Years)

Despite the cold interior the people were polite and somewhat more welcoming there than in other English towns I've ever had the pleasure to see in person. Just to give you an example: wherever you chose to go you find elderly men and women giving you a warm smile and on the doors of the local post office there was a hand-written sign on the doors saying "No Muddy Boots Please". Dean didn't care much about all this, he was more intrigued by the sign that said "Sandwich and Pie shop".

Instead of heading straight to the church the boys and I took a look around. I brought a camera with myself to take pictures and it was also a prop for out cover story. This time around we disguised ourselves as journalists of the Times. The boys were my colleagues from New York and I was there to help them out with the locals to overcome barrier caused by the common language. I know it sounds absurd but in all honesty British English and American English is as different as they can be. I experienced this first hand when I first talked to actual Americans in the States. Even the brothers gave me a hard time because of this. I remember them staring at me with the weirdest look on their faces when I wanted to make them hurry up and used the phrase "Bob's your uncle". In retrospect, I see where and how they got lost. Anyhow, Northern England was my turf and both the Winchesters and locals had to deal with it.

It was only later in the afternoon when we entered St Andrew's Church and met the elderly nun and the middle-aged rector. They weren't surprised by our arrival but the subject threw them off a bit. Both of them expected questions about the recently deceased young nun but instead I brought up the case of the baby who was found on the steps. Or so I've thought, because there wasn't a staircase at the front of the church. Thankfully Sister Esther enlightened every one of us with her extensive knowledge on the matter. She was the one who nurtured baby-me and had vivid memories about that period.

Father Jacob was the one who found me but I wasn't outside as the papers said. Someone (or in this case something, we might never know) busted the door open and placed me on the altar. The damage was so bad that they had to renovate the entrance even though they didn't hear anyone making noise. They only noticed that something was off when they heard me sobbing at the top of my lungs. Father Jacob gave me to Sister Esther who fed me, changed my nappy and did all the parenting required to comfort a 7-month-old. She gave me a name because "The Baby" was not civilised enough for her taste. When she told us this part I nodded my head and said out loud the name I'm currently using, Anne-Mary. Yes, that's why I picked such an unused name for my born-again identity instead of choosing something easy to remember and to blend in. Yet, Sister Esther shook her head in protest.

"It was Anna-Maria, my dear."

She named me after the Virgin Mary, and Saint Anne, Mary's mother. (Too many mothers in one name if you ask me.) She pointed at the stained-glass window on the East side of the church with scene of Mary, Joseph, the 3 Kings and the Shepherds adoring the new-born Christ. A very detailed craftwork.

"The colours of the glass have been projected onto her tiny body as the Sun was rising on the horizon. The shape of the Mother surrounded her full form. I knew she was special from that very moment, sweetie."

I was in Esther's care for 2 months than I was taken to the orphanage. An awfully long time to relocate a child. Then again, it was the 80's, I shouldn't be astonished by the incompetence. Sister Esther wished to visit me, however Father Jacob refused to let her see me. When Sam asked why she said because she grew attached to me and her love towards the child interfered with her duties. Father Jacob had to take this precaution for our sake. Esther hadn't had any knowledge about me or what happened after I was taken so she was pleased to hear that the press has taken interest in my story. She was so passionate it almost broke my heart when I had to tell her how they changed my name to Jane and dragged me around when I survived children's home massacre.

"The Heavenly Father is on her side, there is no doubt here. He saved her on many occasions it seems. You see, young lady, she's one of a kind, just like a told you."

Then she asked about where Jane is I told her what you can read in the papers; how her guardians fell victims of a gang attack and how nobody saw the girl since. She's legally dead according to the police's database.

The news shocked the elderly woman. I saw the dismay in every expression of hers regarding this ugly ending for such a promising story. A minute later she collected herself and said she refuse to believe that Jane is dead and she's gonna pray for her soul to be safe.

Sister Esther left our company to carry on with her obligations and the 3 of us remained with Father Jacob. He showed us around while he asked us to forgive Sister Esther's outburst. She was old and in bad health unfortunately, and Father Jacob already filed a claim to the Vatican - or whoever is in charge of these things - for a 2nd helping hand. This way Esther could take it easier.

There was nothing to worry about really. Her reaction was expected and she took the hit like a soldier. Still, the rector wasn't pleased with the situation. He dropped a statement about how he's not proud of everything he's done in the past but he can put it all behind him and pray for forgiveness.

While we were circling around Dean asked me toprovide distraction and clear the place so they can investigate. Maybe therewill be something of use. I asked the Father to show me the garden/ cemeteryand tell me about the village and oh boy I wish I didn't. He went on and onabout the clergy, the history of the surroundings and how many times they hadto alter the church since it was built. I could write a long essay in thisinstant but I don't want to bore you to death."