Memoirs of the Supernatural - Phase 3 [COMPLETED]

Sigil 13

I'm really tired.

We should get a long night sleep.

The boys and I had no time to rest. We needed to leave as fast as we could so Dean ran to the office in the back of the church, grabbed the phone and called the police to get help. I was sure the girl wasn't gonna make it but Father Jacob still had a chance for survival. Unfortunately, we couldn't wait to see if he's gonna be alright which pains me because he was still young to die and I had so many questions.

At the hostel, we packed up and left for my London apartment. I rented it since I started working for the airline and when I travelled to the USA I kept it by paying all the monthly fees via net bank and of course I still had the keys.

The way there was long and was more dangerous than I expected. Not because I feared that the police might pull us over but because one of my eyes was swollen. One is better than two I guess, yet I barely saw the road in conclusion. Driving in the countryside was fine but when we reached bigger cities it was tough to get my act together.

(🎶Robert Plant - Polly Come Home)

4 and a half hours. That's how long it took to get to the capital. We arrived without causing any accidents which was certainly a miracle if you ask me and we finally had time to sit down and talk without endangering anyone. It wasn't easy mainly because I was still in shock but the 4 hours I've spent driving and listening to Robert Plant's newest album certainly calmed my nerves.

I needed that so much before scheduling our flight back to the USA. I did that and went outside to catch a hint of fresh air. Only if London could offer such a thing. I noticed Sam behind me who kept his distance for safety issues among other things. I told him not to shy away and gave permission to approach. It's better if he's close when we talk about what happened. This way nobody will think that he's some dodgy man whose hobby is domestic violence. He was shaking but only moderately. Perhaps he couldn't stand the cold. He was more afraid of how I respond than anything else. Because of this he didn't want to say a thing so I had to take control of the situation.

I told him that I'm not angry. I don't think what he did was wrong. He responded by expressing doubt in himself and not knowing why he hurt me so badly. But I knew. Dean was dying and he was powerless to stop it. I was almost dead and he couldn't do a thing to help me. On top of that from his perspective it looked like as if I was telling him nasty things even though he knew that was not the case. And he made a promise to me and to himself to protect me and save me.

It's all phycological. Nobody in the world would be able to rise above the kind of frustration he felt at that moment. And I didn't mean a word what that druid, witch or whatever said to him because I believe from the bottom of my heart that he's a terrific man. Sometimes things end up being pear shaped, my dear.

I turned around and let him think about what we discussed. I was heading back to my flat where Dean was sitting at the coffee table playing with his flask which was half empty. Very fitting in this the situation. Almost like an allegory. I stood next to him, put my hand on his shoulder, he looked up and I said one thing:

"Even if it's true what you said about Sam last night I doubt things ever will be the same. It's not up to me anymore."

He didn't respond just hung his head in shame and looked at his feet like a child who did something wrong. In fact, he was the only person whose notions were right. He was the one who knew me better than his brother who alleged to think of me as a potential partner. What does this say about us? I tell you: Sam doesn't see me as myself but perhaps a prettier, nicer person than who I actually am. Dean is able to look at me and see from the right angle without anything clouding his judgement, like a real friend. Now I know he was right that night.

We flew back to the USA, this time for good. I packed everything I needed from that apartment to start over in the States. I don't wanna go back anymore. I'd rather stay with the people who helped and sheltered me when I most needed help, the men I since acknowledge as my family.