The wind outside is howling, speaking of ancient storms of the likes the town has not yet seen. It’s a sign that something bad is coming, something dark and wicked and it’s definitely something you want to avoid running into during your lifetime. You know it’s there.

 

“Yes I do,” I rock my body slightly. The storm outside doesn’t spook me, even though it makes my head feel worse.

 

“Hiding in the darkness,” it’s a cold statement, not a question. He already knows the answer.

 

Of course in the darkness, where else would it be? I wouldn’t fear it if I could actually see it.

 

I know you’re there.

 

It’s speaking to you in whispered tones or nerve-racking high-pitched syllables. Something evil lurking in the dark recesses of your mind. My mind. Its mind?

 

“I’ve lost track.”

 

He promised though, that is something I can’t forget. John Winchester told me, in this very room, that he would find a way to help me. He’s already done so much; he took a chance when a man like him really had no reason to. But he left and it’s been months since I’ve heard from him. I’m afraid it’s only gotten worse; the evil inside me is getting stronger with every lonely second that passes by. I don’t know how much longer I can control it. I need his help again. Now more than ever.

 

“But I fear that my hope is in vain. You see, I can’t feel him anymore.”

 

“Feel who?”

 

“The man. The man who helped me. I’m sure I just told you his name. John. Yes. John Winchester. But his heart no longer resides in mine. I think I lost it. Did I? Or is he just gone?”

 

“The man?”

 

“Yes! The man! The man that I’ve been telling you about!” the noise is unbearable. I can’t shut it out anymore. “Voices.”

 

“Voices?” He shifts in his seat and looks at me from behind those familiar glasses. I’m sick of explaining myself to him.

 

“Yes, voices. Up here, in here, around me, in me, on me, everywhere!”

 

“Calm down.”

 

“You calm down!”

 

Silence.

 

“I think I lost him. John. He’s gone. He’s not anywhere anymore.”

 

“All hope is gone now.”

 

The psychiatrist peels back the leaf on his notepad and puts his pen away in his breast pocket, knowing he was done for the night. “Goodnight Jocelyn.” He bends over slightly to make his patient hear his words, but he’s rewarded by a vicious sneer that he knows isn’t directed at him. Poor girl, so young and already so far gone.

 

He thinks you’re hopeless.

 

“Shut up!” she sneers, squeezing her eyes shut to push back the voices spooking through her head. She rocks her body back and forth while she sits on the bed, and she knows she won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Never nights like this.

 

Where are you John? she thinks to herself, and remembers the first day she met him. He had sprayed her with holy water; it hadn’t burned her skin.

 

You’re not a demon.

 

No I’m not… hunter.

 

 

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A/N: Yes, this part is meant to be confusing as hell.