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The Life and Death of a Psychic Waitress

By Bryce Blackburn

Romance / Adventure

Chapter 1

[Sam’s Point of View]

“Dean, are you sure you know where you’re going?” I asked him again.

“Sam, yes. Enough already!” He said, getting irritated.

“Dean, I mean, we haven’t seen her in seven or eight years; how will we even recognize her if we see her?” I asked.

Dean turned the music up to tune out my questions. He was getting annoyed by me a lot lately.

I turned to look out the window. It was early spring in this small Colorado town, but all the trees were bare and gray. Not full and green. It was odd, but Dean swore he knew where he was going. Even if I didn’t think he did.

“So, we’re going to see Bobby’s niece?” I asked, turning the music down.

“Yeah, she’s like 20 or something now.” Dean said, not looking at me. He was unsure.

“This is weird, man.” I said.

He shook his head. “Whole country is fine, except for that one spot. Like all the demonic signs disappeared.” He said.

“Like a trap?” I asked.

“Probably. But we gotta check it out.” He slowed the car down as we passed a sign saying ‘Welcome to Florence, Colorado.’

The rest of the car ride into town was silent, besides Foreigner belting out Hot Blooded. Just as the song ended, more and more houses came into sight until we were in the center of town.

“Hell of a small town.” Dean commented.

“Dean, do we ever end up in the big cities?” I stated, more than asked.

“Good point.” He said, pulling into a local diner.

“I thought we were going to find Bobby’s niece?” I asked.

“We are. But I’m hungry. I want pie.” He said, putting the car in park and turning off the ignition, pocketing the key as he got out of the impala.

I shook my head, following him into the small restaurant. The sign said seat yourself, so we did, sitting in one of the booths.

“Hey there. Can I get you boys something to drink?” The hostess asked.

“Miller light.” Dean said, smiling at the girl.

“And for you?” She asked, looking at me.

“Uh. Iced tea please.” I said as she handed us menus.

“Alright. Your waitress will be out in a minute and I’ll be back with your drinks.” She smiled as she left.

Dean watched her walk away and I hit him on the shoulder with the menu. “What?” He asked, rubbing his arm. I rolled my eyes, opening the menu.

After the hostess brought us our drinks, another girl walked over to us. “Hey, guys. You ready to order?” She asked, smiling.

“Why, yes we are.” Dean said, grinning at her. She blushed, looking over at me, so she must have picked up that I was the sane one. “Two bacon cheese burgers.” I said, glancing at her name tag. Vivian. Hmmm… She didn’t look like a Vivian to me.

“Boy, for your sake. I hope you’re lookin’ at my name tag.” She laughed.

“Oh. Sorry.” I looked away, feeling my face heat up. But then I looked up into her eyes and something clicked. “Scarlett Singer?”

The smile left her face as she looked me over, then glanced at Dean and me again. “No. I don’t think so.” She said, looking nervous now.

“No, no. I’m Sam and this is Dean. We’re friends of Bobby’s.” I told her.

She still looked tense. “Winchesters. I should’ve known. How’d you know it was me? I changed my name, I dyed my hair.” She said, bring attention to her brown and blue locks.

“The name.” I told her and Dean looked between the two of us.

“What the hell?” Dean asked.

“Dean, this is Scarlett, Bobby’s niece.” I told him, gesturing between the two.

“Nice to see you boys again.” She smiled uneasily.

I saw Dean connecting the dots. “Dude, seriously?” He asked me.

“Seriously.” I told him.

His eyes got a little bigger as he looked over the waitress. “What the hell are you doing waitressing?”

“When you try to disappear, it helps to have a steady job.” She smiled, leaning over a little. “Credit card scams can only get you so far in a small town.”

I laughed, but looked over as a bell rang, signaling someone coming through the door of the restaurant.

“Hey, you guys. I’ve got to go back to work. We can talk when my shifts over, ok?” She told us. But walked away before we could answer.

We hung around the diner until Scarlett’s shift got off.

Scarlett hung up her apron and came over to us. “So, I’m assuming if you guys are here, something bad has happened.”

“We found one of Bobby’s notebooks and it had you listed as a contact. We were wondering if you could help us with a case we’re working on.” I said.

“Why didn’t Uncle Bobby come himself?” She asked us.

Dean coughed and I felt a pain in my chest.

“He passed.” Dean said, trying to act professional in front of her.

The look of pain in her eyes deepened the pain in my chest. “H-how?”

“Hunting. He took a bullet.” Dean said, as I couldn’t work up the courage to form words.

She nodded a little bit sullenly, looking like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “Well my place is just down the road. You guys wanna follow?”

“Yeah, definitely.” I told her and we went around front to get into the impala. She pulled out of the back of the diner in a black 1987 Chevrolet Silverado with chrome painted roll bars.

“Nice ride.” Dean said, watching the truck roll by us.

“Wow.” I commented as we pulled out of the parking lot.

We had been driving for about five minutes when the Chevy pulled over in front of a brick apartment building. Dean pulled up behind her and put it in park.

Scarlett climbed out of the truck as we got out of the impala. “Nice ride, by the way.” She said, still looking injured.

“I’d love to give you a ride sometime.” Dean grinned, obviously trying to lighten the dim mood.

I breathed out heavily and shook my head.

“That the best pick up line you got, cowboy?” She asked, pulling out her keys and unlocking the deadbolt.

“I don’t usually carry a list with me, but I’d be glad to try a few on you.” He said with a shadow of a smile.

“Well, if they’re all like that, you’re gonna have to work a lot harder.” She gave him a pointed look as she let us in.

“Give me a break.” Dean said playfully.

“Winchester’s don’t get breaks; they get a pile of newspapers saying there’s demons in town.” She shook her head at us while she hung up her jacket and kicked off her shoes. “Make yourself at home. There’s a spare bedroom and a couch in the living room.”

I kicked off my shoes and looked around the apartment. It was basic and plain; white and pale blue walls, only two or three pictures in sight, and few nick-knacks around. It looked like she either hadn’t been here long, or she was planning on leaving.

“There’s beer in the fridge and whiskey above the coffee pot. Feel free to help yourselves. I’m gonna change and then we can talk.” She told us, pulling hairclips out of her brown and blue hair.

“She’s awfully inviting.” Dean said, after she’d walked down the hall.

I shrugged, not sure what to say. Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge and handed me one. I popped the top on mine and took a swig.

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