Dean's Little Warrior // Dean Winchester's Daughter Fanfic

Chapter 6

Aella's P.O.V.

Another day, another opportunity to drive myself towards the brink of mentally breaking. I always try to take a positive spin in the morning. Or, afternoon, but whatever.

I dragged myself out of bed, stirring Redgar who was cuddled around my head, as usual. She stretched but quickly went back to sleep, her black paws spreading out over my pillow. My head was foggy from sleep, my eyes barely opening. I hadn't went to sleep until 10 AM since anxiety and insomnia plagued my mind. It took all the strength I had in me to get up and that's not a lot so I am now considering that my daily exercise.

I went to my trunk where 5 shirts and 7 pairs of pants rested. I grabbed the red and green plaid shirt and threw it over my black AC/DC tank top. Putting the old faded jeans onto my legs was admittedly tiresome since I had to bend and pull and jump in every goddamned direction known to fucking cannibals everywhere. I was sweating when I finally got them on so I unlatched my window and hooked my feet around the curtains, climbing out into the cool morning (afternoon) air. I just hung there peacefully until Redgar meowed in annoyance, my cue to get out. As I don't like being told what to do, I waited 30 seconds to come in. I may have not been able to see for like a minute but mama does her own shit on her own schedule. Yes, I am a middle-aged Pinterest mom with two 'cool' rebellious kids, one pregnant, the other the father. What the fuck happened to my brain?

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted my empty duffel bag and what was supposed to happen today hit me like a bullet train, not one of those really slow trains because it would be really lame to compare this feeling to a handicapped Thomas the Train. My eyes were as big as saucers as I realized that in the 12 hours I could not sleep, I did not ready myself for this trip but instead brought on even more crippling anxiety. A sense of dread filled my heart, sending an immediate head-ache to my brain because that's what I need, a demobilizing migraine with anxiety. I rushed around my room, throwing everything that would fit into the duffel bag, including a few days-old cheeseburgers, fried chicken, and macaroni and cheese.

I threw my mom's old leather jacket over my shoulders and slipped my hands into the pockets, the feel of worn leather bringing some peace to my mind. She had always worn this jacket, only taking it off for showers and when we were cold. She said that the jacket had been crafted from the Three Little Pigs who bullied the Big Wolf and starved him to death when all he wanted was the scraps off their dinner table. She said she hunted the Three Little Pigs and made them squeal. I know you might be thinking that mamma was sadistic but only to the ones who deserved it. I still remember how mamma would stop the car to give a 50$ to a homeless person and pay for them to get a shower at a hotel and make themselves presentable for a job interview, how she stopped traffic at rush hour to help a squirrel off the road, how she always told us that kindness is a strength that is contained in all of us, unlocked only when you choose to unlock it in another. Mamma couldn't have been more perfect if she tried, at least in our eyes. I can still picture her celestial blue eyes filled with so much love and pride as she watched us play on the tile floor of Nonna's, and how she smelled when she hugged us, the smell of leather and a running stream and something indescribable, something that remained her's and could not be replicated. I felt a tugging at my heart, the fact that I would never get to smell her smell again, how her warm arms would never engulf my tiny frame, how her beautiful eyes would never look upon us like only a mother could, a mixture of pride and love and adoration and protectiveness and a whole bunch of other things I could never understand, how her words would never again bring us the comfort that we so dearly needed rushing back to my mind. I didn't even feel it when my breath started to get ragged, how chills encompassed my body, and how my stomach twisted into knots so tight they seemed like they could never be unravelled until Redgar nudged my arm, the touch bringing me out of my choking thoughts. I tried to steady my breathing, just like mamma told me. 3 in 3 out 3 in 3 out 3 in 3 out ................