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Imperfect Empath

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I tilted the pencil in my hand to the side, legs propped up against my mother's hospital bed, drawing in my notebook. The setting was night time, and the picture depicted a crossroads, and just off to the right of the crossroads was a large truck that had accidentally smashed into a silver and black impala that once used to purr on wheels.

It was the second picture I shaded. The first time I shaded a picture of the nightmare I had the previous month before, I had dotted along two sets of eyes, a molten dark set of eyes that seemed to haunt me each night.

It was exactly one month ago that when I had these feverish nightmares that my mother dropped 'brain dead' out of the blue where I had to force her into the hospital. Up until now, she'd been a perfectly healthy retired woman.

I was becoming a little bit more detailed in my drawings. I was pretty good at memorizing faces, and there were three I'd recognized. One seemed quite like the pretty bad boy, one seemed soft and kind, and the other seemed a bit older, like he'd been worn out of the life he chose.

I've seen a bad moon rising…there's a bad moon on the rise…don't come around tonight…

It softly played on the radio propped up on the inn table next to my mother's bed.

Truer words couldn't have been spoken since I was feeling that at this very moment.

I stopped slightly, rendering the corners of one of the guy's chin curled against his chest. One of them had a gun in their hands, the guy that was crushed in the backseat of the car.

I looked up at my mother's stilled body tucked away underneath her blankets, and tightened my overs-sized sweater, twisting my legs around, stiff in my own seat.

"Help me!"

I froze in my spot. I knew the hospital was freezing, but I hadn't felt any cool drafts in a long time.

"Can't you see me?! Why won't you look at me?"

I cringed hearing the desperation out of the girl's strange voice. Not only was I hearing her voice, but I was feeling her desperation swirl within me. Her desperation and fear that felt real.

"Three, two, one…" I started to count down, until the voice got louder nearly burning my eardrums out and winced. I finally dropped my book and pencil, and got up from my seat.

I went to investigate where the voice was coming from, running down the mazes of the hallway inside the hospital.

"Somebody help me!"

I was trying to figure out where it was coming from, but I couldn't find it, not through the hallways that seemed never ending, until I finally bumped into something solid.

I nearly fell over on the ground when a pair of strong arms helped me steady back on my feet.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attent…." I began quickly, but then stopped in mid-sentence when I looked up into the man's eyes. "Tion…it's you. I…it's you that he crashed into."

He furrowed his brows together, poor guy confused. "What?"

"The….the yellow-eyed demon," I said breathlessly.


Sam and I were seated at the cafeteria in the hospital. I sat, drinking my cup of hot cocoa, explaining everything to him, while he thumbed through my notebook of drawings I went back to get for him. He seemed really interested in what I had to say about my visions and my newfound psychic abilities. At first they'd scared me, but then I started to wonder what they really meant.

"And then I saw you nearly get crushed to death!" I finished for him. I showed him my notebook of drawings that had haunted me every night of this month. I explained to him what I felt, what I saw. He told me what he was up against. We were both up against this demon called 'yellow'-eyes. "My mom's been stuck in a coma, Sam. I can't seem to jog her out of it, no one can. I don't know, the visions, the strong feelings inside my heart that feel like its on fire... bumping into you, it's, all…weird…"

"Are death visions the only thing you've been having?" Sam asked me, as he handed me my notebook back.

I shook my head. "I started sensing more and more of what others were feeling around me, more prominent than ever. I just felt someone earlier, that's when I ran into you. They sounded like they needed help, but I couldn't find them….what does this mean, Sam?"

Sam was taking in all of my information, processing it all, when he sighed, "I'm not sure. Still working on it myself. But you were twenty-three when this all started?"

I nodded.

"Okay, well, I, uh, I want to help you and figure this out, I do, it's just...gotta take care of something first. My…my brother's…"

I frowned slightly when his face knit together in pain. I reached out to hold onto his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, understanding where he was coming from. He was loosing his brother. It was just like my vision. They were in a car crash, and his brother was stuck in a coma too, probably to near death. That's not something I'd wish on anyone. If anything I'd rather try to take that pain away from them. I wish I could take away the pain of others, and help them ease their hearts and souls of the deaths and desperation in this place.

"Be with your family," I said, taking my hand away from him, folding them across the table. "I'll be okay."

"You sure?" Sam asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, they need you."

"Okay, well, here," Sam pulled out something from his pocket, and reached for the palm of my hand. He started to scribble his number on the palm of my hand. "If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call. You're not alone, Nora. I think you're apart of something, I think we're a part of something…"

"A part of what?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I'll let you know when I do," Sam said.

"Good luck with your brother?" I offered.

"Do me a favor?" he asked.

I nodded my head. "Anything. You telling me what I was up against? It's more than I can ask for."

"Continue to stay hopeful."

I eyed him up and down curiously, but at the same time, understood him. He got up from his seat and left me in pure wonderment.


Sam Winchester. He had psychic visions too, I thought, as I sauntered back to my mother's room. I sighed tiredly and took a look at my picture. The car was an utter wreck. The doors were bent out of shape and the trunk was smashed to smithereens. But at least they were alive. I could never find the woman's voice who was in desperation or in need of help, but I didn't hear or feel it anymore. The hallways were quiet, and it was back to normal for me at least.

I'd been trying to figure out what this all meant and I feel like maybe meeting Sam Winchester today had been a blessing. It was like my answers would finally come to light of why I felt this way, why I had visions of death or near death like the Winchesters had been through. I wondered if I was finally going to learn who yellow-eyes was and why he haunted my dreams and why he pressured me to doing terrible things when I fought back. I was going to heed to Sam's wise words of staying hopeful and try my best to just be good in life. I was going to try and ignore yellow-eyes.


The next day, a kind nurse had woken me up. I didn't realize I'd slept through the night, still at my mother's bedside. I yawned and stretched my arms, feeling hungry so I went to the cafeteria to get some food. The nurses surrounding the hospital had been kind in helping me try to deal with my mother's comatose state. I wanted to believe that she could come back to me. I wanted things to get better.

I was alone, by myself, with no one else. My dad and my sister had died in a fire back when I was six months old. Sam had asked me to start from the beginning. He said there was a pattern and that something was happening to psychics like me and him. And he told me to stay put. To stay hopeful. It was an interesting way to put it like that I guess. I was going to try my best. It wasn't easy staying hopeful in a burning world.

I guess I could just go on through life, fighting the nightmares, waiting, worrying, trying to hope that my mother would snap back out of it and back into her body, but it didn't seem that way right now. It seemed…

I'd walked back into my room, only to find my mother suddenly not in her bed. I saw drops of blood on her white sheets, and my heart stared pounding hard against my chest. Blood dripped again. I looked up from the ceiling this time, and saw my mother's body strewn up on the ceiling, eyes wide open staring at me, like she was trying to call out my name. I stood in shock, wondering how she'd gotten up there, wondering why she was there, frozen in place. "M-mom?" I stammered frantically.

Then I felt it. I felt the room suddenly burst into flames and cave all around me. A pair of arms yanked me out of the way before the flames could swallow me whole and burn the entire room down, killing my mother instantly.


A/n: Let me know what you think!