Sam Winchester's Daughter

chapter XIX

  Charlotte came home from school in despair. She threw her backpack on the couch and sat loudly right next to it with her arms crossed.

  "What's up with you?" Her mom asked, peering at her daughter from the kitchen where she was preparing dinner for the two of them. Charlotte remained in her position and did not turn around to face her mom.

  "It's nothing."

  "Well it's definitely something if you're coming into this house in that manner," her mom retorted back. Charlotte turned around on the couch so that her arms were resting on top of it and she faced her mom with her eyebrows furrowed.

  "Boys are so dumb. It's ridiculous." Charlotte's mom gave a small laugh, before patting her hands on her jeans to dry them, leaving wet hand print stains. She came out of the kitchen to sit next to her distressed daughter on the couch, who returned to having her arms crossed. She looked at Charlotte, admiring her features that seemed to resemble her but mostly her father with her big eyes and the shape of her smile. Charlotte never posed too many questions about her father and quickly viewed her mother as both parental figures as she was growing up.

  "Trust me, I know. What did they do this time?"

  "They're just so confusing. They don't clearly tell you how they feel and always leave you guessing. It's so stupid because I've never been involved with a guy because of these things. Now, look where I am." Charlotte leaned her head on her mother's shoulder, in which her mom extended her hand to place it on her cheek.

  "Well, now you're asking for too much." Charlotte let out a laugh at her mother's comment. She pondered for a moment and thought about her mother's own life and her own experiences. She realized she did not know a lot about the woman who was sitting there touching her face and got curious.

  "How about you? Ever had trouble with boys?" Charlotte's mom slowly pulled her hand away from her face and placed it on her lap. She thought about what answer she could give without seeming too suspicious. Although Charlotte was old enough, she did not think it was necessary to bring up her father at the moment.

  "Oh sure, all the time when I was younger..." She began saying before drifting off.

  "What about my dad?" Charlotte asked. "He must have come from somewhere right? How was he like? Why'd he leave?"

  Rebecca, Charlotte's mom, was surprised at first with the questions her daughter was firing at her. Before answering her, she fiddled with her hand, examining her ringless left finger by skimming her thumb across it.

  "Your father was a good man. He had good intentions." This was all she mustered to reply, still not looking at Charlotte. A few seconds passed by before Charlotte grabbed her fiddling hands, diverting her attention and making her look up at her daughter who looked back at her with sincere eyes.

   "Then why'd he leave?" Charlotte asked again. Rebecca took in a deep breath before responding.

  "I don't really know. One day he was there and the next he wasn't. It seemed like he just disappeared. But I loved him, and I knew he loved me, so I trust that whatever it was, it was for something good; important even."

  Charlotte nodded when her mom finished and gave her a closed-lipped smile before saying, "Well, I'm glad you were still there for me." Rebecca embraced her daughter into a tight, wordless hug before getting up from the couch to return to her cooking. Charlotte stood up with her mom as well and speedily went up the stairs without saying anything. 

  She knew her mother was hiding something but she didn't know what. She could sense there was something more to the story and she was curious to unveil it, or at least she hoped there was. Attempting to not make any noise Charlotte entered her mother's room from upstairs, walking on her tip toes.

  Creeaak.

  Charlotte could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at her feet, silently cursing to herself. Taking faster strides while on her toes still, she continued on until she reached her mother's bed.

  "Women keep secret things they don't want to show to their teenage daughter under their beds, right?" She pondered to herself. Slowly, she lowered herself until her knees were on the floor and she was able to look into the darkness that enveloped her mother's bed underneath. She began skimming the surface, finding nothing until her eyes landed on a rectangular dark shape that stood out from the otherwise empty space. She reached for it quickly in fear of her mother finding her in that awkward position and sat up, examining the box in her hands.

  It was a black box with a latch, slightly bigger than her hand but relatively small and had no special engravings or marks on it as Charlotte checked before opening it. Luckily, this latch did not need a key so she was able to open it with ease, making her wonder how she didn't find this sooner if it was so easy, too easy. 

  She was met with many Polaroids stacked upon each other. She picked up the first picture that captured her mother and her best friend, Vicky, smiling while having their arms thrown around each other. Charlotte smiled at this, as Vicky was still a good friend of her moms and the two shared an impeccable friendship. The photos underneath appeared in the same fashion, with her mom smiling or embraced with another friend of hers in her college years. 

  Charlotte was about to give up on her quest to find an answer to her suspicions until she came across a close-up photo of her mother hugging a man from behind with the biggest smile she had ever seen yet. She studied the man in the photo, starting from his shaggy light brown hair and examining the details of his face from his eyes, nose, and smile. 

  Charlotte began touching her own face to compare its proportions to the man's when a sudden realization dawned upon her. She picked up the photo again to make sure it was actually him.

  It was Sam Winchester. Her father. With this, a million other thoughts raced through Charlotte's head. She looked around and she realized that where she was, wasn't real. Well, it was, but it wasn't her true reality, but what she wanted it to be. Sudden thoughts of Sam, Dean, and Bobby flashed through as she remembered that she was a hunter, and she was there to hunt. But what was it exactly that she was hunting?

  Charlotte gasped as it came upon her.

  "The djinn."

  "Charlotte, dinner is ready!" Rebecca's voice startled Charlotte as she snapped the box closed and pushed it under the bed. The photo of her mother and father remained in her hand and she subconsciously stuffed it into her back pocket of her jeans as she descended the stairs to not raise her mother's suspicion.