The Scribblings of Samantha Winchester

November 1st, 2005 - Crappy Motel

So much has happened since I last wrote in this thing that I don't know where to begin. First we discovered more about this Constance woman, then went to the bridge she jumped from. Everyone was fine at first, then Deanna started talking about finding out more and the length of time that the hunt might take. I had reminded her about my interview on Monday, and then all hell broke loose.

She started questioning me about Jesse, asking me whether I'd told him about what was out there.

I told her that he was never going to know, which Deanna then responded with a muttered comment under her breath about how healthy our relationship.

"You're one of us, Sammy."

"It's Samantha, or Sam. Take your pick. And I am not one of you. This is not going to be my life. I have a future and a boyfriend who doesn't know about all this crap, and it's nice because at Stanford I can actually have something that resembles a normal life. Yes I sleep with a knife under the bed just in case, and yes I always make sure that we do have some salt in the apartment, but it's still a billion times more normal than this."

"I don't want to do this, De…"

Deanna had calmed down too. "Sam, we have a responsibility to…"

"To what? To Mom, and her crusade? De, if it wasn't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Dad looks like. Even if we did find the thing that killed him, what difference would it make? Dad's dead, and he's never coming back."

Deanna, full to bursting with rage had crossed the bridge to me and grabbed me by the collar of my plaid shirt, forcing me backwards until my back hit the metal supports of the bridge.

"Don't talk about him like that!"

And then Constance dicked with the Impala, which leads on to the point of why I'm now sat on one of the beds in some crappy motel with the sound of Deanna's horrific singing coming from the bathroom. We were never gonna' outrun the Impala, so we had to jump. I luckily managed to hang onto the side of the bridge, but Deanna fell into the river.

Ugh, she smelled like a toilet. It was disgusting.

So we found the nearest motel, discovered that Mom is was staying here, and then Deanna went to shower.

I was going to ring Jesse, then remembered the time difference and decided against it. He had however left me a voicemail message basically saying that he loved me and that I should come home soon.

After that I started writing this entry while I was waiting for Deanna to get out the shower. The time spent in, I knew for a fact that there wasn't gonna' be any hot water left, so there went my plan to have a shower tonight, thanks Deanna.

Deanna left like a minute ago to get food…

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