Series summary: Â A young girl with many secrets and special abilities seeks out Sam and Dean on one of their hunts. For what you may ask? Help of all things but even though she needs them, she takes her time telling them what she wants and what she is. Y/N wants them to trust her before she does the same for them, because if she has learned anything, itâs that when you become attached to something it will only rip your heart out later.
Series summary: After Mary died John was dead set on finding her killer but his boys were too young at the time to help. So John did what any father would do, he got little Sammy and Dean a babysitter. John would hunt and high school graduate Y/N would end up caring for his boys almost every day for weeks, until something inevitably goes wrong.
WONDER WHY THOSE ALL DONâT LOOK LIKE THE SAME COLOR? BECAUSE THEY ARE NOTÂ
OTHER THAN BEING PART OF THE SAME FAMILY OF BLUES, THEY ARE NOT ALL THE SAMEÂ FUCKING COLOR! WHY WOULD THEY ALL BE THE SAME FUCKING COLOR! DO YOU THINK WE JUST NAME NEW COLORS FOR KICKS!?!?!?
WHEN DESCRIBING A CHARACTERâS GOD FORSAKEN EYE COLOR, PICKÂ ONEÂ YA GODDAMN HIPPIE
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I completely made up the creature in this chapter just FYI.
Masterlist
Words: 2364
Castielâs pov.
Blue shimmer paints the white wall like a firework does the sky but it doesnât fade to smoke. The monsterâs lifeless body timbers to the concrete, a look I assume of pain permanently embedded on its mirror covered skin. As the creatureâs body made of glass meets the ground, it cracks and shatters all across the surface.
No coming back from millions of pieces.
These creatures I and the Winchesters hunt are of an unknown origin. Although they are dangerous and made of sharp material, they are easy to kill when you have the upper hand. Any weapon will do because although these beings look like walking windows and mirrors, they shatter under force.
I hear something walk behind me. Thinking itâs another one of the creatures of the hunt; I raise my blue speckled angel blade and begin to swing it behind me.
âWhoa!â Â
I pull my weapon back just in time to miss Deanâs face.
âNext time say something to let me know itâs you.â I am not angry at the hunter for sneaking up on me. More so fearful of what could have happened if I hadnât pulled back in time.
âSorry.â The hunterâs hands drop to his sides. âCome on, letâs find Sam.â
The three of us had to separate in the decaying remains of this hotel where these mysterious beings live. The building is three stories with seventy rooms, so we each took a floor. Dean must be finished with the first floor and Iâve just swept through the second. Now all we have to do is find the youngest Winchester and finish the job.
Being abandoned for so long, the stair wells are even darker than the halls that were only lit by broken windows. There is no light the way we have to go to find Sam.
âWe are not alone Dean.â
I feel another presence as soon as the door of the stairwell shuts. It is not a friendly one.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ..
Samâs pov.
I pull the bandage tighter on my injured thigh. I think one of those damn things hit an artery.
I have to use the crusty walls to hold myself up as I limp along to safety.
Dean, Cas and I have no idea what these things even are.
Their entire man shaped bodies are covered in shining glass and mirror. Their touch is as sharp as knifes which is why so many people who explore this hotel often go missing. Or they die leaving and are later found by a car driving alongside the road outside.
It seems like even the road isnât all that safe because many accidents have occurred on it and in broad daylight. These monsters probably stand in the windows to catch sunlight on themselves to blind drivers outside.
The top floor must be the mirror monsters main den too; Iâve come across at least five of them up here so far. The last one sniped at my thigh before I shattered it like the rest. They donât seem to be able to see you unless you look at your reflection in it first. Thatâs only if they donât hear you first despite them not having physical ears.
A bang echoes. I look in the direction it sounds from but the sun comes in from the window at the end of the hall. I am blinded by it, so when a door swings open in its midst, I canât see who or what it is.
What emerges from the doorway is not only running toward me but there are two of them.
I look down to the floor and calm my pulse. I donât wish to make noise or look up just to see my own reflection try to kill me. I have my machete raised ready to take out the glass creatures before they take me.
I listen to them get closer and closer but I keep my eyes down.
I almost look up when they slow down only feet away from me. I hold my stance until a calloused palm grabs my wrist ever so slowly. I raise my eyes as the hand pushes my arm down.
âIâve already been stabbed at by Cas man. Letâs keep it at that.â
I sigh in relief and relax my shoulders slightly at the sight of my brother and our friend behind him.
âYouâre late.â
I laugh out as Dean takes my other arm and throws it over his shoulder to help me stand.
âI thought you said meet here in twenty minutes?â
He smirks in return as he guides us down the rotting hall. Casitel is right behind us.
âMore like fifteen.â
Before Dean has a chance to rebuttal, the double doors twenty feet in front of us open.
More than a dozen of those mirror men swarm out from the meeting room theyâve been hiding within. I catch a glimpse of the inside where an entire wall is covered in window openings; that must be facing the road outside.
âWe found the mother load Sammy.â
I can feel Dean straighten his back in preparation.
âIâm pretty sure they found us Dean.â
I look over my shoulder at the same time as my brother. Cas faces the stairwell they emerged from as another handful or so of those things block our exit.
The glass figures all move in at once.
âIn here!â Dean half drags me into the doorway opposite of him.
Once inside, Cas rushes in behind us and slams to door shut. He locks the rusting deadbolt but continues to lean his weight against it. Those creatures pound on the door so hard, we can hear some of them shatter instantly in their attempt to get to through the door.
Dean sets me down on the nearest musty bed and grabs hold of the rotting dresser on the wall across from me. He leans at the far end of it and pushes with his shoulder to slide it over the stringy carpet.
âMove!â
A millisecond later, both Dean and Cas are shifting the back of the dresser against the door. It continues to pulse from the creatures trying to enter.
I feel blood seep through my already soiled bandages. I drop the machete and my hands struggle to stop the blood flow from my sliced thigh.
âCas?â
I start to feel my eyes spin when I call to the angel.
I look to my brother who slowly tips back onto the ragged bed linens. Heâs about to lose consciousness.
I stand away from the dresser but as soon as I do, the door jams open just enough to tip it forward. The lock is of no use anymore as it flies to the floor. I am quick to lie against the dresser again when the glass people continue to push forward. Cas is doing the same.
âHelp Sam!â
The blue eye man looks at me before standing.
Itâs no good though because the pressure from the reflective monsters is too much for me to hold on my own. Cas is only away for a second before they nearly knock the dresser on top of me. The angel is quick to lift it back up to the door but not before a glass arm reaches through the gap and strikes a gash in his cheek. One more shove from us has the door shatters the arm when it bangs closed.
We look at each other and I notice the cut on Casâs face has already healed but some blood still remains on his skin.
When I look back at Sam, his eyes are just barely open.
âHold on Sammy! Weâll think of something.â
Even as I say it, I know our chances of getting out of here are slim to nothing.
âGo to him Dean. I can hold them off long enough for you two to find a way out.â
Casâs voice is strained from pushing against the dresser. He canât last much longer either, even with his angel grace.
I lower my voice so only my friend can hear me now.
âEither we escape together Cas, or none of us leave at all.â
The door stops rumbling from the glass men.
Without relieving my strength, I stand a little taller to look through the peep hole in the door.
âNothing.â
Splinters of glass and mirror litter the entire hall outside. Not a single one of the monsters are left.
âWhat do you mean nothing?â
Cas sounds just as shocked as I feel, so I move away and gesture for him to take a look.
âWhat did this?â
I shrug in response. I have no words.
âI think you mean âwho did this?ââ
The voice comes from inside the room.
Both of us simultaneously look back to the culprit, only to see two figures standing over Samâs passed out form.
âHello boys.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Janeâs pov.
Flora is the one to make our presence known to Castiel and Dean.
I however am staring down at the youngest Winchester who continues to bleed out. The hunter is fading away on the deteriorating double bed.
Samâs forehead is covered in droplets of sweat and grim, causing his hair to stick to his skin. His clothing is astray and sliced, with tiny glass slivers clinging to the various fabrics. All this nothing compared to the tear in his jeans where his bandaged thigh is plastered with dried and new blood.
I vaguely hear Flora correct the question Cas throws into the air.
Yes I had been the one to kill the beautiful yet lethal mirror beings in the hallway. Then I took Flora and I in here.
Thereâs a sound of clothing ruffling to look in our direction. I take this as my cue to look up.
âHello boys.â
Itâs all the greeting I can muster before looking back to Sam.
I spare no more time and place my cool palm on the clammy forehead of the dying hunter.
Ever so, I feel Samâs temperature warm up beneath my hand and his pale skin peaches up in color. If not for the bandages draping the wound, I could see it closing up and repairing itself.
I glide my palm to the healing manâs cheek as his eyes begin to flutter open.
It takes a few seconds for Samâs pupils to focus on my face but when they do, the black dots expand ever so large.
âJane?â
I nod my head along to the youngest Winchesterâs woozy voice.
Sam surges up and grabs my shoulders. He gives them a slight squeeze before smiling and pulling me in for a bear hug.
âItâs really you?â
Comes a muffled question from the relived head buried in my hair.
âYeah itâs really me Sam. Itâs me.â
I follow my eyes direction as they look up to Cas and Deanâs faces.
The angel still seems in surprise at my sudden arrival after weeks of being gone. His face shows understanding though and the small smile on Casâs lips is welcoming.
As I focus on Dean however, the hunter carries a stare of furiousness and nothing else.
Iâve got something coming my way.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Floraâs pov.
âWhere have you been?!â
The eldest Winchester marches over to the bed. He looks at his brother and breathes a sigh of relief that he is alright but the sight doesnât stop his anger.
âThank you for what you just did but seriously where the hell have you been?â
Deanâs gratitude is short lived due to his continuous questions.
Sam seeâs the oncoming storm and quickly stands next to Jane in her defence.
âDoes that really matter right now? All that we should care about is that sheâs alive.â Sam glances back and forth from the hybrid next to him and his furious brother.
âJane is back Dean.â Castiel speaks from behind him.
My brother seems to understand the importance of this much like Samuel. He places a calming hand on the hunterâs tense shoulder but Dean is fast in pulling away.
âNo!â The frustrated man backs away from Cas.
This confuses me. Should Dean not be happy that his friend is alright? Should he not be glad to see Jane well and within his protective grasp?
âNo? Do you not want her back?â
It was believed that if Jane showed up to the two men and my brother, that they would be ecstatic. Yet when I ask this, they all look wary.
Sam is quick to deny my question which restores my faith in the young man.
âOf course we do. Of course we do Jane.â He looks into the silent face of the hybrid.
âI know why you left Jane. I do.â Dean is calmed down enough to sit on the bed next to Janeâs quiet self.
It is Castiel who feels the need to speak next.
âWe just need to know, why it is that you left usâŚâ He motions between himself and the Winchesters. âWhy you left us all behind?â
That is a question even I wish to know the answer to. I have no clue why Jane felt the need to let me stay with her. Why when at the time of her motherâs passing, we had only known each other for a few hours. Jane and I have come to learn somethingâs about each other and have a relationship built now, but all those weeks agoâŚ
The young woman named Jane Doe relied on a complete stranger instead of her friends. Why is a very valid response.
Now, we all find out.
âThe day you all met my mother, she let you know the monster in her. That is all you ever knew Mallory for, was a monster.â
Jane hasnât spoken her motherâs name since the day she died.
âI only knew her like that thing one day out of my entire life.â She takes a deep breath. âI couldnât mourn for my mother properly with people who knew her only as a monster.â
Broken eyes look into my shining ones.
âFlora was the only one out of all you who saw me lose a mother and not a monster.â
.............................
Special mentions (tags open) :
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Series summary: Â A young girl with many secrets and special abilities seeks out Sam and Dean on one of their hunts. For what you may ask? Help of all things but even though she needs them, she takes her time telling them what she wants and what she is. Y/N wants them to trust her before she does the same for them, because if she has learned anything, itâs that when you become attached to something it will only rip your heart out later.
Authorâs note: This chapter links with the last one for the most part. Just to be on the safe side though, youâll want to re-read the last few chapters over or the entire series because I havenât posted in a very long time.
WARNING: Character death and suicide.
Words: 3060
Masterlist
âThere was a time you would have done anything for me. I canât remember the last time you even smiled at me, or hugged me and that you meant all good things. It must have been years ago because itâs at the point where the memory of all that good, all that love, it has all disappeared. So I donât understand why I even bother visiting you anymore because if you were able to, right now, you would kill me. Iâd be dead. So tell me why I keep coming back to you. Why? Just tell me why?â
âIf you were expecting my eyes to change colour again, you must all be very disappointed right now.â
If the air of the war room wasnât so tense, someone aside from Crowley would have laughed. No such luck though.
Everyone in the room pauses. All of them become rigid as statues at the sight of me. I canât blame them. I may not have seen my battered and bloody state but they all did.
I take my eyes away from the newcomer in the bunker. I donât know Flora; she is unreadable in all ways. Even with this uncertainty, I just wanted to prevent any more conflict and blood being spilled. So my previous statement about Flora was merely a verbal way of calling a temporary truce between all those in the here.
I observe everyone else now.
Sam just looks at me with a pained expression. His ever changing eyes seem horrified, as they did when he saw my mangled form earlier this day. I nod an okay to him, Sam needs reassurance most.
Dean on the other hand, he looks ashamed. Not of me but himself. The hunter must be most discouraged with himself when he was unable to save me from torture. I know the truth though; nothing could have stopped Mallory from hurting me. My mother was unstoppable.
The sheriff has slowly and timidly made her way to my side. Jody is but feet away from me now, wanting to be ready to defend me or catch me if need be. She inches no closer; Jody respects my confident stance enough to halt her own.
Crowley just smiles at me. Itâs an actual smile, one of joy and pride. This is a rare occurrence from someone who claims to be evil. His hands stay in his pants pockets but if I know Crowley, heâs flipping a mental coin to see who breaks the quiet first.
âJaneâŚâ
Iâm pulled out of my perception of the war room by the crumbling voice of Castiel. His tone is raw sounding and hoarse as sand paper.
It is at this time that I see my angel friend for the first time. My breath freezes in my lungs.
Walking is forgotten in my mind and in a millisecond I am kneeling in front of Castiel.
I can feel everyone in the room take a moment to collect themselves. Despite the fact that I touched no one in my motions, the speed in which I teleported must have given everyone whiplash.
No matter, my attention is on the tousled remains of Castiel slumping in the chair before my eyes.
It is at this time that I realize I have not been seeing all the souls in the room. Earlier I was watching Jodyâs soul dance with itself in bliss. Later on I had nearly cried at the sight of my chained up motherâs havoc swirling darkness.
Now I see nothing, until I close my eyes facing the wreckage that is Castiel.
The soul casts extreme blinding light but not for me. I see through to its core and I feel awe overtake me.
At the center of Castielâs being are all-powerful palms of hands shielding what seems to be a globe. Fingers cascade over the worldâs every surface, in a hope to hold it together. Constantly healing but never fully recovering or succeeding.
Itâs all exquisite, simply alluring.
I find my left arm being pulled toward Castielâs chest. My hand places itself ever so delicately over his bloody clothed heart. I can feel it beating just barely through his skin. The thought of my friend like this brings water to my eyes.
I donât want to see Castiel in such pain and so I imagine him well. No cuts upon his face, no broken bones or swelling bruises. I imagine the angel easily laughing and speaking with no rasp in his voice. Just Castiel as I first saw him with no blood or torn clothing. All scars missing and standing tall, perfectly alright.
My phone rings from its place on the passenger seat next to me.
I already know itâs one of the boys.
Maybe itâs Crowley, wanting to know if Iâd like to go for lunch.
My thoughts continue to wander about the ringing cell phone as I drive along the highway. Itâs about 10AM now. The phone goes off many times throughout every day but I just let it ring.
If itâs Sam calling, he will just be asking if Iâm alright and updating me on how everyone else is.
If I go back to the bunker for anything, it would be to tell Sam to go to sleep. He only rings me between 2 and 6AM.
When Dean calls, he always starts by trying to convince me to come back home for a game night. When really heâs just trying to track my phone to find where I am.
Since Iâve stopped picking up calls, Dean can no longer track my whereabouts.
Castiel is different though, heâs only tried to get a hold of me a few times in the past weeks. Iâm pretty sure heâs out and about looking for me.
How do I know all of this? I listen to all the voicemails they leave.
It canât be Jody calling because she just texts me now. The sheriff gave up calling after a few days. Sheâll start by saying how worried the Winchesters are about me and finish by asking if I need anything. I always respond to Jody the same way.
âI donât need anything, thanks for askingâ and thatâs all.
I never answer any phone calls because I have nothing to say to anyone. Not a damn thing.
Iâm not heartless though.
Texting is how I let the boys know Iâm still alive.
Iâll just send them each the same thing every day.
âIâm still breathing, just not speaking at the moment.â
Just like that, each morning and every night. I may be absent minded towards the boys but I am not cruel. Â
âJane youâre going to have to answer that noisy thing sometime. Or at least have the decency to turn the sound off.â
I jump as Floraâs voice comes from the back seat. I peek at her in the rear-view mirror before quickly silencing my phone still ringing away on passenger side.
âSorry.â I smile shyly back at the angel who now rises from lying down.
âItâs fine. So where are we off to now?â Flora stretches her arms above her head in question.
âWeâre going to visit her.â When I speak I look straight ahead at the speeding pavement.
âAlright, how far off are we?â Flora understands what I mean immediately.
âFive hours.â
I smile at the groan I receive in response.
âItâd be a lot faster if you just teleported us there.â I watch Flora cross her arms in the mirror, a pout upon her lips.
âI know, I know but driving helps me relax in the meantime.â
Flora complains no further, sheâs aware about how painful where weâre going is for me.
âWe could just keep her locked up for a while.â
Dean stares at his brother in disbelief.
âKeep her locked up here? Sam you nearly killed her today just at her first words to you.â The eldest Winchester scoffs out. âYou of all people nearly killed a human. Mallory is too agitating for even you, one of the most level headed people here. Thatâs saying something.â
Jody buts in.
âDeanâs right.â The library occupants now focus on the sheriff. âI could take her and hold in one of the jails. I mean just until we figure out what to do with her. None of you will be able to tolerate Mallory long here anyway.â
The sheriff nods this more toward me because she knows Iâm the only one Mallory was here for in the first place. If my mom were to escape somehow, sheâd go straight for me. No doubt about it.
âOr the more secure possibility would be hell.â
All heads turn toward Crowley who sits comfortably in one of the library chairs. Poise is the king.
âWhat?â Itâs Flora who speaks up.
Everyone has left her be since I stood for her. At the moment she actually leans on the wall next to me.
I look to the new angel in curiosity. Even though I know that she is some centuries old, her vessel looks very young. She seems maybe mid twenties. Sheâs very pretty which is a word I donât use often at all. This being because I havenât had the time to think about descriptions. Flora howeverâŚ
I find that she emanates beauty.
All of her features complement each other. Floraâs florescent gold eyes seem to reflect off her eyelashes, making her actual eyes look like deerâs pearls. The nose on her face isnât straight but curved just so that it makes her full tan lips stand out. The roots of Floraâs hair start out black and flow out to brown at her shoulder length tips. Her skin a mere few shades away from being a dark oak.
As I am looking over Flora, I miss the argument that breaks out. Something about Crowleyâs suggestion and the Winchesters disagreeing with him.
âLet Jane decide what becomes of Mallory.â Castiel walks into the library wearing a fresh non bloody suit.
After I healed Cas he went to change from his disgustingly crusty apparel. He doesnât sport his usual trench coat. It must be in the wash still or completely trashed.
âYes. Good idea brother.â Flora stands up to her full height, which isnât much, in agreement. âAfter all it is her mother. Jane of everyone here has more right of choosing Malloryâs fate.â
I think this is Floraâs way of proving her loyalty to us, more so to me. She must realize how enormous our next decisions are. All though Malloryâs actions were monstrous, she is still a human and my mother.
I feel all eyes on me now. The word eye has now lost all meaning to me in their history in my life.
I continue to study Flora and appreciate her interest in the matter at hand as I respond to the question hanging in the air.
âI want to give Mallory a second chance to live the life she wants.â I stare at the listening faces of the room. âI want to erase my motherâs memory of me and all things supernatural.â
 ...................................................................
Present timeâŚ
âIâm sorry Jane. I am so sorry.â
I am embraced by Flora through the open driverâs side door of our vehicle.
If the boys were to see how close the angel and I have gotten over the weeks, they might lose their minds.
Flora has stuck by me in ways the Winchesters, Castiel and Crowley never could. The bond between us is even different from Jodyâs relationship with me. Just as strong, but nowhere near motherly like the sheriff.
I am currently in ruins over the visit I am to have with someone who is only a short walk from us.
âWe donât have to do this today. We can stay in town tonight and come back in the morning.â Floraâs hand smooths over my head in hopes to diminish my sorrow.
I donât wish to break from the angelâs calming embrace so I simply speak into the hug.
âThis is the last time I come back here. It has to be today.â
The howls that escape my throat cause Flora to pull me into her more.
âIt has to be today.â My whisper is as broken as my heart.
I peer at my dark sneakers as they move in a trance down the bright bunker halls. The black shoelace ends slither on the shoes fabric in slow motion. My breathing is pummeling against my lung walls, in dread of my path to the dungeon.
I barely hear Floraâs voice next to my ear.
âSlow down Jane, youâre going to trip over your own two feet.â
I feel a hand tug on my elbow, in an attempt to halt my panicked rushing. Enough of a pull to have me turn and look directly into the gems that are Floraâs eyes staring into my own violet ones.
âYouâre about to hyperventilate Jane. Wait a second and breathe for a moment.â As soothing as the angel speaks and as welcoming as her eyes are, I have to continue.
I gently leave Floraâs grasp and stare at her still.
âIt has to be now.â I force my gaze away from hers and resume forward. âIt has to be before I change my mind.â
I force my stiff legs to carry me toward the dungeon where I am to erase Malloryâs memory of being a mother to me. All her memory of all inhuman beings will be nonexistent.
I am unaware of my fingers twisting the dungeon door open or my head rising to see my mother already standing and free from her bonds.
âHow did you get out?â Itâs Dean acknowledging Malloryâs sudden escape.
I hadnât known about him following behind Flora and me.
âIt doesnât matter.â Mallory races toward Dean, who squeezed through the door and stands beside me.
I never knew how fast my mother was on her feet because in no time she has snatched a pistol from the eldest Winchester. Dean was pushed down to the floor in her antics and soon she points the barrel of the weapon at me once more.
I raise my hands in an unneeded defence.
âMom itâs alright. Weâre not here to hurt you.â
I pass the words effortlessly out between my lips seeing as this is the last time I will be able to call her that.
She hesitates briefly before lowering the weapon.
âI am here to give you one last chance at life because I love you.â I whisper in truth.
<WARNING>
âI believe you.â Then Mallory raises the weapon to her own temple. âBut I still know when Iâve lost. Goodbye baby.â
The gun goes off.
My eyes clench as momâs soul flourishes into death.
Ignoring every aspect of life around my own, I sink to my motherâs non-breathing side. My arms move on their own accord beneath her limp back and pull her body into my own. I feel the pulse leave from beneath her skin and fade into the nothing. If it werenât for the blood running into her dishevelled hair from the bulletâs path, Mallory could look as though she were just asleep. The paler my motherâs face becomes, the more I shiver.
I donât realize that Iâm trying to shake her awake until my hand carries her lolling head. I feel the red travel to my finger tips as I brush hair off Malloryâs face. I bend my head down to my motherâs forehead and speak.
âI love you mama.â
A weight rests upon my trembling shoulder and I desperately look up into Floraâs gloomy eyes.
I had no clue how wrecked a soul could become until I disappeared from the bunker with my dead mother carried in my grasp.
The only light in that moment was an angel named Flora following close behind me due my quick exit.
I perch glumly at the grave stone of the lady once named Mallory.
I stare at the name of a woman who gave birth to a cambion and loved the creature anyway. This woman sacrificed all for a baby she never wanted and became hated when she tried taking her life back.
âI donât know why Iâm bringing you flowers mom. Youâre allergic to pretty much every kind.â I glare reluctantly at the lilies in my hold, droplets cascading down my cheeks. âI just thought they were lovely like you once were.â
I sink to the green grass where my motherâs feet would be.
There is a shivering crack in my voice.
âThere was a time you would have done anything for me. I canât remember the last time you even smiled at me, or hugged me and that you meant all good things. It must have been years ago because itâs at the point where the memory of all that good, all that love, it has all disappeared. Â So I donât understand why I even bother visiting you anymore because if you were able to, right now, you would kill me. Iâd be dead. So tell me why I keep coming back to you. Why? Just tell me why?â
I know full well that Mallory has no life to respond and so I drop the bouquet of lilies at her headstone before standing to my numb feet.
I take in the gravelly stone of my motherâs final existence before spinning my toes away from her. I tilt my stare at my motherâs name for the final time.
âGoodbye mom. I love you.â
The pads of my flats teeter their way in the direction of the parking lot.
I remember nothing of the journey back to the pavement where my vehicle is parked still.
âJane?â
The sockets of my eyes are agitated with salty tears that look to the gold eyed beauty that is Flora. The angel who has been on this three week trip with me is resting on the hood of our vehicle. Flora shows nothing but support in her entire expression.
âI think itâs about time we head home Flora.â A smile dawns on my lips for the first moment in 21 days. âI need to go home.â
