In 1991, Benjamin Fitzpatrick shot his wife and fifteen year old daughter in ther home before shooting himself. His nine yer old daughter, Rose, hid in the closet and witnessed the entire thing.
And that was that.
She went into foster care. When she was eigteen, she used the money she had saved up and bought back her childhood home.
And that was that.
At night, sometimes, Rose thought she could see her dad watching her as she stared at the ceiling, contemplating invisible stars, or as she whispered to herself, dreaming up endings of novels she would never write. She brushed it off as nothing but her overactive imagination.
And that was that.
She started seeing him in the day too, and people started dying all over town, all with the same story, a story identicle to Rose's. There was always one survivor, always telling the same thing: The gun was there, and they were dead.
And that was that.
One day, Rose opened the door to two FBI agents investigating the murders. They sat on the couch, ate her food, and asked questions they had no business asking. The tall one, Agent Young, was certainly more compassionate. He seemed genuinely sorry to unbury old memories, but what difference did it make how sorry he was, he was still asking.
"And where was your father buried?"
Rose's eyes flicked to the side, where she saw her father standing, pale, but clear as day. This did not go unnoticed by the agents, but what could they say, as far as they could see, there was nothing there.
"He wasn't. He was cremated." She lied.
And that was that.
At night, Rose drove over to Mountainside Cemetary, and dug up her fathers grave. She took his remains and filled in the plot.
When she got home, she lifted up the loose floorboard in her bedroom, and stored his bones there.
And that was that.
The next night, the "agents" broke in. Rose was terrified, but she was quite the actress.
"Why did you lie about your fathers grave?"
"W-what? I didn't!"
"We went to Mountainside, but someone had already been there. The coffin was empty!"
"W-we buried an empty coffin; b-but why would you-"
It went on and on. Rose was scared out of her wits, and the agents were still unconvinced. Suddenly her father appeared, yelling and flailing his arms. The shorter agent shot him and he disappeared, like human smoke.
And that was that.
The other agent scoured the house in search of the bones, but found nothing. So he did something rekless, and Rose ended up standing on the sidewalk, watching the only home she'd every known burn to the ground.
And that was that.
"Rose, why did you try to protect him? He killed your family."
"I know. I was there." Rose reminded them snappily, but she was soon calmed by the night air. "I mean, the guy's a major dick, yeah, but he was the only family I had left. I guess...I guess I missed that."
The taller agent, Sam, his name was, nodded. "Rose, when the cops show, you need to tell them-"
"No." She said. "There is no story. I tell them the truth. Two well informed lunatics broke in, assaulted me, and burned down my house."
The shorter one, Dean, nodded, almost approvingly.
And that was that.
Rose got a new apartment, met a girl, Lily, and fell in love. She was planning to get married, maybe even adopt a few kids, but Lily started getting distant. One day, Lily's fingers brushed against Rose's arm, and her heart stopped.
And that was that.
In case anyone forgot, Lily was the blonde girl who died first in All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1, (I hope that's the correct episode. I think it is.) I always wanted to write about her life before she met Sam, and I figured, what if her girlfriend had already met the Winchesters and knew about the supernatural. So I just did it.
