The Letters Legacy

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I couldn't see my own face, but I knew I was as pale as a ghost.

Well, ghosts aren't actually pale- most of them just look dead.

"B-Bobby?" I asked.

"Who else would it be?" He asked.

I went to hug him, but stopped myself.

"Tell me something Bobby Singer would know about me," I said. You could never be to cautious.

Bobby thought for a moment.

"Your first Christmas you had with me. Stray dog wandered over, and you insisted we let it in and feed it. You named it River."

I smiled happily. It really was Bobby. But something still felt.... off.

"I've missed ya, kid. 'Bout had a stroke in heaven when I heard you were running with the Winchesters. Then I again, I always figured you'd meet up one day," Bobby said, chuckling a little.

I laughed back. "Let me guess- we're all idjits?" I asked.

"Damn right you are."

There was moment or two of silence, the a question popped into my mind.

"Bobby- where are we?"

He shrugged. "I ain't really sure. All I know is that I've got somethin' to talk about with ya."

I raised my eyebrow, curious.

"Me, your father, Kaleb- we all wanna see you again. We want ya to be with us- forever. Think about it- all of us, happy, for the rest of eternity. No more runnin' or huntin'," he said.

I teared up at the thought of being with Bobby and meeting my dad and Kaleb.

"Now I know things between you and your momma weren't great, but she- she wants to see you as well. You can come with us, JP. You can be happy," said Bobby.

"H-how?" I asked, stuttering.

"By just lettin' go of life," Bobby said, pulling a knife out of his pocket.

I suddenly knew what he meant, and then something really seemed off.

"Bobby- you know I can't do that. There's still monsters out there. I gotta help."

Bobby sighed, looking to the ground.

"Balls. I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

Bobby's image shimmered, and before I knew it he was gone, replaced by someone I hate to admit that I missed.

My mother.

"Jupiter. Always so fucking selfish. Never thinking about others," she spat.

I literally flinched back.

"Mom, I-" before I could finish, she charged at me, a knife in hand.

I put up my arms to block, but she still swung the knife, slitting my wrist.

Blood immediately started to ooze out of the wound, trickling down my arm.

"Mom, sto-" she charged at me again, but this time I ducked.

When I came back up, she thrust her hand out, and I flew back, landing on my back with my bleeding wrist above my head.

"What- how did you-?" I asked confused.

Mom walked closer, the knife still in hand.

She scoffed. "You really think I didn't learn a thing or two from teaching your shitty ass how to do it? Fucking dumbass."