Haunted {Dean Winchester 1}

Prologue

The first time I ever experienced heartbreak wasn't because of a boy. The first time I ever felt like I wasn't enough wasn't because of someone who wanted to sleep with me. It was because of someone who was never supposed to hurt you. 

I was only three years old, but it affected me for the rest of my life. I don't remember much, but dad told me the story when I was ten. I had begged him to tell me about the day my mother left. He said that everything was normal, good. Or at least he thought it was. My mother just walked out of the front door, not sparing one look back as I cried out for her. 

My dad always blamed himself, as did I. He felt that it was because he was a hunter. That my mother had been tired of the life that she had to live because of it, so she left. Which could be true. But I felt it was because of me. I didn't know why, or what'd I'd done but maybe it had been me. I wasn't sure how my older brother took it. He seemed perfectly fine. 

But over the years, I thought about it less. I learned to ignore how the other kids in school had someone to make something for every Mother's Day. How every evening a kind looking woman would sweep them into her arms and smile brightly.

I had my dad and my brother.....And the Winchesters. Dad would always pick me up after school. I'd run out of the building to see him waiting by his truck, either covered in dust, mud or, unfortunately, blood. Though, owning a farm he could cover for hunting better. As a kid, I'd run toward him, smiling that he'd come to get me as he pulled me into a hug. 

As I got older, I thought it'd be fine. I wouldn't obsess as much over the fact my mother left. And for a while that was true. But then I hit my teen years, which, as dramatic as it seems, were hell. I hardly had a womanly figure in my life. So when I hit puberty, the world seemed to implode. 

I think my father seen it that way too. But luckily a family friend came to the rescue. Morgan, my 'aunt', had shown up just in time. She wasn't really related to me, but she was the closest thing I had to a mother figure. I had always been more tomboyish and when I was younger it didn't bother me. Between hunting, growing up on a farm, and being raised by my dad and older brother, I don't think femineity was very high on the To-Do list. 

But when Morgan started being a regular in my life and I seen the way other girls were at school, I wanted to be seen as more feminine. I mean, Morgan said my personality was feminine enough. That I didn't need to dress the part. 

But a part of me wanted to catch up. I felt so far behind the other girls at school. Of course, I still loved a good T-shirt and pair of jeans, but I liked dresses and skirts. It made me feel, I don't know, better about myself, I guess. 

Though, I soon realized that it did nothing to sway the image everyone seen me with. I was still the farm girl, or a hunter's daughter. But Morgan insisted that my personality was much more girly than I realized. 

Anway, I then had another mini crisis when I realized that I had a crush on Dean Winchester. Which, by the way, is not a good idea. Morgan said it was fine, but it was not. 

Speaking of Dean Winchester, I had a lot of good memories with him. I loved when he and his brother, Sam, would stay at the farm. It was never for long, but it was always the most fun I ever had. 

Despite our age difference, which was only two years, Dean and I got along. We've been friends since we were little. Dean brought out another side of me. 

He always joked he was 'corrupting the good girl'. Which I always rolled my eyes at. He'd laugh then and bump his shoulder into mine, saying that I knew it was true. I remember once specific moment when I was fourteen. 

Dean and I were sitting in my basement, the reason I don't remember anymore. I sat on one end of the couch, and he sat on the other. Somehow, we'd ended up on the subject of how my mother just disappeared one day.