Prologue

I have been running for so long it was inevitable that one of two things were going to happen 1, I was going to run out of money or 2 I was going to get tired. Either of those things would be enough to get me killed but it was money that seemed to be the problem that put the brakes on everything.

But did I really have to end up in Iowa of all places? But I suppose there have been worse places, yes there really have, whether sleeping in a toilet cubicle in a bus station in Montana or hitchhiking to Sioux City not able to gage whether the truck drivers would demand a "payment." The one that did ask for a sexual favour learnt not to again when I put a knife to his balls.

So 6 months later, here I am still in Sioux City, earning enough money so then I can get on the move again, I have to be discrete, I work in a diner, a faceless name in a huge city. I ask to be paid in cash, I pay my rent in cash in a bedsit that is barely habitable, but I bide my time and I discovered in the first few weeks of being here how tired I was. So if I had tried to continue running I would have ended up dead for sure. I don't know why they hunt me, but so many people have died because of me I suppose this is my punishment, being constantly the prey and having to live off the grid in a bare existence. Never really having friends. Never really having a life.

Until one day I met Dean Winchester.