From The Mind Of Jemma Winchester

How It Came To Be

        Right, first off, you should probably know how the term "long-lost" fits into this. It was September 8th, 2008, my seventh birthday. My mother decided she had had enough of me wasting her money on useless things, like school and clothing.

        "Jemma?" She said in the car. "Do you remember your father's name?"

        I nodded and stared out the window, wondering why she asked me that.

         She dropped me off at a house. Not just any house, a house in the middle of a junkyard, or so I thought. It was actually an auto repair shop. She opened the car door, grabbed my suitcase, and led me to the front door. She told me to stay at the front door while she got something from the car, but got into the car and drove off.

        I surprisingly remained unfazed by this, as I probably thought she was coming back. I did what any seven-year-old would do if they were dropped off at a strange house.

        I knocked on the door.

        I was greeted by a large man wearing an old trucker hat.

        "Who are you?" The man asked.

        "I-I'm Jemma Winchester."

        The man looked down at me for a moment before speaking again. "Is this a prank?"

        "No."

        "So who's kid are you?"

        "My mommy's name is Quinn and my daddy's name is Dean, but I've never met him."

        The man let out a sigh. "Well, where's your mom?"

        "She left."

        "Oh fantastic, dump his kid on me while he's down in Hell-"

        I raised my eyebrows. "Whaddaya mean?"

        "Just come inside, I'll explain everything."

        The house was very old, and there were books everywhere. On the tables and chairs, on the floor, and on a large desk in the living room. "You got alotta books. I like books." I was so absorbed in the books, I did not realize the man had taken my hand. "What's your name?" I asked the man.

        "Bobby."

        "Bobby," I repeated. "Do you live here all by yourself?"

        "I get visitors, occasionally."

        "What am I doin here?"

        "I don't know but untill we figure out what to do with you, you'll have to stay here, and I've gotta teach you some things."

        "Okay, Bobby."

        We stopped at a small bedroom at the end of the hall off of the living room. "You said you would explain everything, so where's my daddy?"

        Bobby sighed deeply. "Your dad died about four months ago, but he was the bravest, most stupid man I ever knew."

        "Oh," was all I replied with. 

        In no time, I could draw a perfect Devil's Trap and recite an exorcism. Bobby said I was a quick learner. But all of that did not prepare me for what walked through the door on September 18th.