Chapter 20

KYLEE POV

I sat in my lonesome room. The walls painted a white- which was now yellow with age- the beds separated with only five feet between them, and a desk pushed up against the northern wall. My bookshelf sat next to the bed I slept in. I heard my door open, and a nurse step in.

"Here's lunch, Opal. You can walk around the hall today, if you'd like," Sara, the on call nurse, set the tray down, and left my door open.

I walked over to the tray. A turkey sandwich and applesauce with water. I grabbed the spoon and took a few bites of applesauce. I wasn't really hungry.

I leaned back on the desk chair, thinking and closing my eyes. Flashes of my father's funeral, and my mother's death went across my eyelids. I let out a quiet whimper. I'd seen my father die from a heart attack. And my mother die from a hellhound. I couldn't sleep longer than two hours. I'd get nightmares of my mother's death. And then, my father's funeral. Every once in a while, Crowley's face would pop up with the same question.

I still refused to speak. They'd ask me simple questions, like what my name is, or what my favorite color was. But , I refused to answer. That's why they call me Opal. They don't call me Jane Doe, and I appreciate that.

"Opal? Here are your medications." Anther nurse came in thirty minutes after I ate.

I knew one of the six pills I downed everyday was a sedative. It didn't work very well, but they knew I had a hard time sleeping. I guess it did help.

I got up after taking my pills, and walked to my bookshelf. I grabbed an old book about supernatural creatures. I'm happy I didn't want to speak. I mean, all of this would come out and they'd put me in an insane asylum. I guess that's apart of being a hunter. You risk having people think you're crazy.

Sitting on my bed, I opened the book. A note fell from the inside cover. I looked around before opening it .

Kylee-

Yes, I know your name... But, that's only because I grew up with you. Every day, you'd come see me when we were kids. But, now? I haven't seen you. Maybe it's because I'm now a nurse that you never see. I'm around... Just not right here.

I'll be here around 7 PM. Don't forget.

~Elizah

Elizah... Who the hell was Elizah? I don't remember growing up with an Elizah. Let alone anyone named Elizah.

I crumpled the note, and flung it into the trash can. I didn't need someone creeping me out while I'm in a psych ward.

I went on to reading, and time passed, so did the book. I ended up finishing it within the four hours. I looked up at the clock. 7 PM. I scoffed. I knew it was a hoax.

A soft knock made me look at the door. It pushed open, revealing a man, no older than I was, in scrubs.

"Hello, Opal," he closed the door, "Or, should I say Kylee. Long time no see."

I gave him a confused look.

"Oh, right you don't speak. I'm Elizah. Don't you remember me? Considering we grew up together. Only , with different families."

Elizah . I remember him. He's my brother.

"I see you remember. But, I need you to get out of here. There's someone that's coming. They're dangerous," Elizah sighed, "but, I can't right now. We'll have to do it in a week or so."

I tilted my head in a questioning manner.

"It's a little late now. They're here. But, they shouldn't notice. Okay? I'll see you around." With that, Elizah walked out of my room.

I leaned against the bed frame, and sighed. It was nice to see a family member still walking and breathing. He was-is- my brother. But, we have different dads. He chose to stay with his real father when I was born... Not really wanting much to do with the Popp family. But, he visited, and we had some sort of bond. He's like, 14 years older than me, but still he was my best friend. Then, after I turned 18, my dad passed, and my mom was gone when I was seven, and I hadn't really seen much of Elizah. So, I did what my fathers journals said. Look up articles, and find weird deaths or storms. So, I did just that. I even set up a home in Boston. I wonder what happened to that?

My eyes began to droop, and I fell into a deep sleep.

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I was sitting in a metal chair. Still in Crowley's torture warehouse. My mom was looking at me, an angry expression displayed across her face.

"You could've save me. This is all your fault," she shouted.

"No! No! I didn't! I couldn't I was helpless." I shouted back, sadness leaking like water from a broken water pipe.

"No. You could've helped me," she looked at the hellhound, "and I wouldn't have been puppy chow!"

I watched in horror as the dog ripped her to shreds, and Crowley begin to laugh at my distress.

I screamed out 'No's and a bunch of profanities. I couldn't stand having to watch again.

"It was all your fault," Crowley's voice was in the back of my head.

-------

I gasped. I tried to wipe my face, but I couldn't. I was restrained again. My night terrors left me thrashing, and trying to run. So , this is what I get.

I cried. This was a new dream. Crowley was never in the others, and my mom never said that. But, what I don't get is that I was in a chair, Crowley was there, and why I was being blamed. Was it really my fault this time? Yes, people have died because of me, but never like this. It was always demon possession, or ghost phenomena. It was never from a hellhound.

I guess it was my fault.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

SAM POV

Dean put the Impala in park, and we got out. We were dressed in our FBI attire, and ready to go in the hospital. The morning sun made no warmth in the September air. Chills were convenient.

"I'm Agent Hoggs, and this is Agent Smith. We're investigating the recent phenomena in the psych ward." Dean began.

The desk lady told us where to go, and went back to work. The ward was on the fourth floor.

We made it up there, and Dean went to talk to the nurses and doctors, while I went to talk to patients.

"So, sir, are you aware of what been going on here?" I asked a younger kid. He was maybe in his teens.

"The ghosts? Yeah... They're killing off some of the patients." He mumbled.

I went on to more people. All of them said the same thing. Ghosts killing people.

Dean and I met up again, "Find anything?"

"Well, patients are saying the ghost is killing people... Like vengeful spirit. But, it's probably going to be impossible to figure out who it is... I mean, it's a hospital." I mumbled.

"The nurses and docs said they were just seeing things," Dean mumbled back, "Son of a bitch."

We were walking though one of the halls, just searching for something suspicious. Like sulfur, or something dealing with a spirit. We both walked by a room with the door open. I back tracked a little. This was the first open door I've seen. I motioned to Dean, making him come look.

A girl sat in the window, her leg hanging off the side of the seat, and her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She seemed super concentrated on the outdoors. I looked around the room. A bookshelf lay next to the set of beds, and a desk against one of the walls. She had scars all over her exposed arms.

I looked back at the girl. She looked so familiar. Her curly hair, and the profile of her face.

"That's Opal," a nurse whispered, "She doesn't talk, and barely does anything but read. I wouldn't bother trying to speak with her."

"Oh," Dean and I said at the same time .

Somehow , I knew it wasn't an 'Opal' in that room.

After the nurse walked away, Dean and I walked in the room, and closed the door. When the large door closed, the girl looked at us.

"Kylee." I breathed.

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A/N: DUN DUN DUNNN... Yeah.. So, hope you like it!

It's an early in the day update! Haha.

~Mae