Intruder

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"So what brings you to Wyomissing?" Dean asked.

"I'm looking for my brother. He ran away and I haven't seen him since."

"What about your parents?" Sam asked me.

I shook my head and started to tear up. I looked away and collected myself. Clearing my throat and getting ready to answer the question.

"I never knew my father. And, well, my mother-- she, uh, she recently passed."

"I'm sorry to hear." Sam sad looking at him sympathetically.

If there's anything in the world, the one thing I hate is people feeling sorry for me. I've learned to manage on my own. Of course, I had Mom to back me up. God, I missed her.

"So tell us about yourself." stated Dean.

"There's not much to say. I've always felt like I'm a fish out of water. Like I didn't fit in, like a freak."

"I know that feeling." said Sam.

"I doubt it." I laughed.

"So what do you do?" Asked Dean.

I couldn't tell them what I did. No one knows what I do, not even my mother knew what I did. I mean sure I had a daytime job, but I quite the retail work after mom got real sick. And well, what I did for "work" didn't exactly pay the bills. So, I lied.

"I- uh- I work retail. What about you guys?"

"We are journalists." Sam tells me.

Just as I was about to interrogate them further, the bar door swung open and screams burst out. I looked behind me and saw the man who was about to hit me earlier. This time, he had a gun in his hand.

"Logan, I thought you left?" The guy who groped me stated.

"You, I need you to come with me. Now." he said, looking at me and pointing the gun at me.

Fuck.

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