The Life and Lies of Mil Winchester - Book 1

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“And sometimes... they come true.”

“Come again?” Dean spluttered, stunned.

“Look, Dean, Mil... I dreamt about Jessica’s death - for days before it happened.”

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Dean said, siting down on his bed. I sat beside him.

“No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

“Well maybe it is something,” I said quickly, getting to my feet again. “I’ve been having weird feelings about the house too.”

Dean looked overwhelmed. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down on his bed, directly across from Dean. I crossed my legs on the ground, leaning against Dean’s bed. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean?” Sam asked. “This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed mom and Jessica!”

“All right, just slow down, would ya?” Dean snapped. He stood up, and began pacing. “I mean, I’m already dealing with Mil’s telepathic pain receptor thing. Then you tell me you’ve got the shining! And that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when...” he broke off, sounding rather close to tears.

“When what?” Sam prompted.

“When I swore to myself that I would never go back there.”

“Look Dean, we have to check this out.” Sam said softly. “Just to make sure.”

“I know we do,” Dean said quietly.

We pulled up outside a large white house. I recognized it from somewhere, but I couldn’t remember where. The last time I had been here was when I was six months old.

“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked, slapping Dean on the knee.

“Let me get back to you on that,” Dean said, his voice sounded very downcast. We got out of the car, walked up to the front door. Sam knocked. A woman opened the door. Sam quickly took a step back, looking a little shocked.

“Yes?” The woman asked.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the federal...” Dean started.

“I’m Sam Winchester,” Sam cut Dean off. I gave him a warning glance. It was not a good idea to be handing out our real names. “and this is my brother Dean, and my sister Mil. We used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could just come see the old place.”

“Winchester,” the woman repeated. “Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.”

“You did?” Dean asked.

The woman nodded, and stepped aside. “Come on in.” We did. I looked around as I walked into the front hall. Everything looked eerily familiar. Then all of a sudden it was dark. I could hear the crackling of flames, and Dean’s and my screaming. I took a deep breath, clutching my forehead. I was immediately back in reality.

“You okay?” Sam asked softly.

I looked up, panting. “Yeah, fine.”

The woman didn’t appear to have noticed my unusual behavior. And neither had Dean, apparently.