I took a shuddering breath and closed my eyes briefly, wondering if I even had the courage to tell them everything. I could hear the hallway clock ticking away, no one moved a muscle. I sighed and opened my eyes, knowing full well that I really didn't have a choice. I also knew that once I began I would have to finish, otherwise they'd never get the full story. I opened my eyes and rubbed my hands together.
"My little sister was born when I was three years old," I figured I better start with something easy, "Her name was Emma. My little brother, Erin, was born three years later. Everything was perfect, you know? But..." I dug my fingernails into my hands, forcing myself to continue, "My mother got sick, really sick. Of course at first we didn't think anything of it, but when we realized that she wasn't getting better she went to the hospital. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer." I couldn't look them in the eyes so I focused on the coffee table instead, "She... was put in the hospital full time. One of our neighbors, Ms. Cooper, would watch Emma and Erin during the day, pick me up after school, and drop us off at the hospital where our father would pick us up. The doctors tried everything, chemo, radiation, nothing could slow it down..."my throat clenched as the memories of those awful months resurfaced. Of the constant fear when leaving the hospital that this was the last time I would see my mom...I shuddered.
"It took months," I finally managed, "Only months, she died on a Saturday. I was holding her hand...my father he had just stepped outside to speak to one of the doctors and when he came back..."I shook my head and dug my nails deeper into my skin, "Anyway, after her death my father fell apart. He started going to the bar after work once a month, which turned into once a week, and then daily. The beatings didn't start until a year after her death, so I was ten."
"And he only targeted you?" John asked softly.
I nodded, "I only let him target me. At first I didn't think my father really meant it, you know? I didn't want to really believe it, but eventually I figured it all out."
"Do you know why he targeted you?"
"He...he told me that I took my mother from him, since I was the last one with her, he told me that her death was my fault."
"Lily, it wasn't your fault," Mary said quietly.
I gave a wet laugh, "Yeah, I told him that too."
John wiped his face with his hand and thought for a moment, "Okay, that last night, do you remember?"
I nodded, "Yeah, I remember," somehow I managed to say everything. I recounted every detail my mind could procure and ended with the paramedics taking me to the hospital.
John nodded when I had finished, "Your father was brought to the hospital too, for minor wounds. He was charged once he had recovered and put in jail for child abuse and child endangerment."
I nodded, "He called me, when he was first charged."
"Did he tell you anything?"
I shook my head, "Just the usual threats, told me he would find me but..." I smiled grimly, "I didn't take it seriously."
"Okay, I think that's all I need to know for now," John said standing up.
I nodded and he gave Mary a hug and ruffled both Sam and Dean's hair, "I have to stop by the station. I'll be back as soon as I'm able."
"See ya dad," Sam told him.
John smiled fondly and slipped into his jacket before walking out. I watched the headlights of his truck briefly light up before disappearing down the street.
I turned to Mary cautiously, "Guess I'm on lock down for now huh?"
She smiled and walked over and sat beside me, throwing an arm over my shoulders she grinned and said, "Something like that."
I found Lily in her room later. She was so absorbed in something she was holding that she didn't hear me knock the first time.
"Whachya lookin' at?" I asked.
Her head shot up in surprise, "Oh, hey Sam."
I took that as a sign to go in. I walked over and sat on her bed and plopped down beside her to look at what she was holding. It was a photo. In it was a younger, carefree looking Lily, her hair in two braids. She was grinning up at the camera with her arms slung over two young kids. One was a girl, with blond hair and pigtails, the other was a baby boy, they were sitting on one of those swinging bench things I had seen on porches. At her feet were two dogs. A tan-ish looking one and a fluffy black, white, and tan one.
"Your siblings?" I asked, nodding towards the picture.
"Yeah, Emma and Erin."
"Are those you're dogs?"
She grinned and pointed to the tan one, "That's Etta," then she pointed to the fluffy one, "and that's Charlie."
"What were they like?" I questioned.
"Charlie was clever and boy did he shed! You couldn't wear anything black 'cause his fur would stand out on it. And Etta?" she whistled, "I could never figure out if she was plain stupid or just pretending."
I laughed, "My parents say that pets are great, we just don't have the time and money right now."
"If you could choose a pet, what would you choose?"
"A dog," my answer was immediate, "A big fluffy dog that could be my pillow!"
She shook her head and laughed.
A buzzing sound came from her nightstand. Her brow furrowed as she opened the drawer and pulled out a cell phone that looked like it hadn't been used in ages.
"You didn't tell me you had a cell phone," I commented lightly.
But her attention was fixed on the caller i.d.
"Get your father," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper, when I didn't move she looked up at me, "Sam get your father now!"