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Post by Raquel Knight on Apr 28, 2007 19:17:31 GMT -1
December 3rd, 1995- War Journal. John is away on a hunt again. Something called a Djinn and he doesn’t want us around so Dean and I are on babysitting duty again. We made some popcorn and Sam, Dean and I decided to watch a movie all together. Dean wasn’t there for half of it. Somebody called and I guess it was private so I ended up just talking to Sam. He ended up explaining to me what he wanted to do. First, he loves reading and school so obviously he must be adopted into the Winchester family. The only thing I’ve seen Dean read was a Batman magazine. “I want to help people, and not just by saving them from the boogey man.” Sam told me, and it was easy to see why. “So, why don’t you do that?” I asked. “Because my dad and brother wont let me.” He started and instantly, I gave him my ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ look. Sam is probably one of the most determined kids I know. If he wanted to help people without having to risk his life doing so like Dean, John and I do, he’ll find a way “They want me here with them and you know my dad. The other day, I told him I was afraid of the dar-” He continued but I just had to interrupt. “Listen, Sam, nobody except you can plan out your future, okay? Not your dad, or your brother, or me. Nobody.” I explained to him. He didn’t seem too sure at first, more timid until he started to list all the bad things about his family. I didn’t intend on having that happen since it seemed like he grew more and more set on just abandoning his family so I had to stop him. “Whoa, wait Sam. Just… I want you to know that only you can determine your future, but make sure you think about it before you do anything drastic.” After that, we went back to focusing on the movie since Dean came back. It was a bit awkward after that; nobody said anything for a while until Dean started to play Mystery Science Theater 3000 with us.
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Post by Raquel Knight on Apr 28, 2007 19:21:57 GMT -1
December 7th, 1995- War Journal. Djinn info: In Islamic mythology, the Djinn are fiery spirits, one of which was Iblis. From the Arabic junna, "angry, possessed." The Jinn pre-existed in middle eastern folklore before Islam, and were incorporated into the religion. The djinn are creatures who lived on earth before man; they were made up of 'smokeless fire' whereas men were made from earth.
Djinn are often disruptive, but can sometimes be of service to mankind. The Djinn shunned daylight and were responsible for disease and insanity. Unlike other devilish creatures, however, the Djinn are creatures of free will, even having a chance at redemption through Islam. The three classes of Djinn are: ·Ghul, mishchievous shape-shifting spirits associated with graveyards. "Ghul" is the origin of the English word "ghoul." ·Sila, Djinn who can appear in any form ·Ifrit, evil spirits.
In Middle Eastern magical practice, Djinn are invoked much like the spirits of the Goetia in Western magick.
The word "genie" is a corruption of Djinn. Both 'Djinn' and 'Genius' probably share a common root. Djinn are said to avoid salt and steel, and to be afraid of the sound of singing.
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Post by Raquel Knight on Apr 30, 2007 1:19:55 GMT -1
December 12th, 1995- War Journal. Let me just start off saying that I’m not really a criminal. I’m a good person and I do some bad things and break the laws to save lives. But… maybe Dean’s reaction was a normal. I’ve written before that I was sleeping in Dean’s bed. Well that was only for a couple of weeks before we came to an agreement where he could have his bed back and I would take the couch which isn’t too bad. However, some of my stuff was still in his room so in the morning, I needed shampoo and thought it was in Dean’s room. So I creep into his room while he’s still asleep and go to the dresser. At least, I thought he was asleep. The dresser was a mess. Clothes everywhere, all of the books open except for the school ones of course. I find the shampoo I was looking for but next to it is the necklace that I always see Dean wearing. When I picked it up, it looked like some spiritual necklace and I was just curious. He had to be wearing it for some reason and with hunters, that reason usually was protection. I wasn’t intending on pawning it or anything but with some impulse, I palmed it, plucked up my shampoo and walked back to the door. But when I got there, I felt somebody grip my wrist. In a flash, I was spun around to face Dean and he slammed my arm against the door. It was so strange; I’ve never seen him that angry before, let alone that angry towards me. “Drop it.” He said. I didn’t know what to do at that point. I didn’t plan on getting caught since he seemed like he was sleeping and I didn’t hear one noise when I was walking to the door. Just staring up at him, I tried to play dumb. “Wh- Dean I didn’t take any-“ I started but he just got angrier and slammed his hand against the door behind me in the area next to my head. I couldn’t help it, I had to flinch. And the way he was just staring me down, jaw clenched and eyes just locked on to mine. It seemed as if he could see every secret I had. It seemed like he was staring me down for years when only it was just about a minute before he pulled my wrist to him. I gave a small grunt as he ordered around my appendage and opened my hand. Revealing the necklace, two of his fingers took hold of it and pulled it from my palm as he glared up at me. Then finally letting go of my wrist, he took a step back. “Go.” He said simply. I felt ashamed and betrayed at the same time. I didn’t know why he got so angry but I did what I was told and turned away, exiting the room. Later on, John asked me what was with the bang and I told him I dropped something. I’m guessing Dean wouldn’t want me to say anything about out encounter but even if he didn’t mind, I wouldn’t say a thing. Lost, I didn’t know whether he was more angry about me stealing or what.
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Post by Raquel Knight on May 16, 2007 2:21:27 GMT -1
December 15th, 1995- War Journal. Christmas shopping with Sam. I asked him what to get for Dean and I never expected a 12- year old to answer that saying porn. I had to give him a high five after that. We went the CD store and picked up a few disks here and there. Then I found the vinyl for Led Zeppelin III and had to pick that up. But when I asked Sam what to get his father, he didn’t have an answer for that. Maybe I’ll get him a protective ring to match Dean’s necklace or something.
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Post by Raquel Knight on May 16, 2007 2:22:01 GMT -1
December 19th, 1995- War Journal Christmas shopping finally done. Sam: Board games like I promised and a new deck of cards since Dean’s are wearing old. Dean: Enough CD’s to at least last him till his birthday in January. Zeppelin III, vinyl. Contemplating this guitar but that would be too much and I don’t have that kind of money. John: Pretty damn expensive metal rosary beads that I had to donate money to the church to get. These are some that he wont be throwing into water. Some he should wear instead of bless objects with.
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Post by Raquel Knight on May 29, 2007 1:42:00 GMT -1
December 20th, 1995- War Journal Trying to hold in my excitement. Only 5 more days until this jolly spirit crap is over with! Dean and I have kept the conversation to a minimum up until now. No deep dark secrets have spilled out between us for a while. However, today was a success with getting through to him. Actually, I think I got to a little more than that. We were cleaning up in the kitchen tonight when John was putting Sammy to bed. With him washing the dishes and me drying them and putting them away like some old married couple, it was pretty silent. That was until I put the dish down and went over to him, shutting off the water and just staring to him. I needed some answers and it seemed like this was as good of a time as any. “What?” He asked me just staring like I had three heads. Like he didn’t know me at all. “You know exactly what” I replied in my usual ‘punk-ass attitude’ that all teenagers have. “Dean, we haven’t talked in a while. You’re one of my friends and I feel like I’m losing you and I don’t even know why. If its because I took that necklace, I’m sorry, but don’t punish me like this!” My hand had instinctively slammed on to the counter as I growled to him and then in an instant, like always, he threw that glare that made me feel small. “First of all…” He started in a louder tone, countering mine, “this isn’t about the necklace. And secondly, you shouldn’t have taken it anyways! It wasn’t yours. You know nothing about it. What was even your reason for taking it?” I let out a sigh not really knowing what I could answer. I was just curious about it was all. Shaking my head, I just looked up at him like I was confused again. “You embarrassed me. All I was going to do was look at it, research maybe but it wasn’t like I was going to take off with it.” I watched him as he looked away, his hand resting on his hip as the other went to lean on the sink, still facing me. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head and jaw clench and before I knew it, my hands met his cheeks and lips caught his in a kiss. Our lips just met and although, I wanted to continue, I stopped myself only to find that he didn’t pull away, but rather kiss me back after a minute. So my hand slipped back to tangle itself in his hair and lips pressed against his further for a few moments until I heard a familiar voice call out. “What the hell is going on here?” Great, Papa Winchester walked in at the perfect time. My eyes grew wide and I quickly withdrew my lips from Dean and we just stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of our head’s like nothing had happened and we were confused. The silence was broken by his husky voice again when he said “Roc, go to your room.” I was timid, and didn’t think I should leave Dean with a mess when he didn’t do anything. “John I-“ “Now.” He quickly interrupted and like a scared little field mouse I took off towards Dean’s room.
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Post by Raquel Knight on May 29, 2007 1:42:47 GMT -1
December 21th, 1995- War Journal Stayed in the room for the rest of the night and I had locked the door and just went to bed so I left Dean with the couch. Poor guy. He probably thinks I went through his porn collection. When I finally came out of the room a little later in the evening, I saw Sammy in the hall and I thought it was adorable because he was sitting the hall against the wall, reading a book because he’s waiting for Dean to get out of the bathroom when he had to change his clothes. I asked him where his dad was and he told me that he went to the store to re-stock and that’s when Dean came out. I awkwardly looked up at him and pointed back to his room behind him, asking if we could have a talk. Sam chuckled at that and just said, “Talk, right” And that earned a glare from his older brother. Apparently, Sam knows something I don’t. Good thing I was eager to learn what. Dean and I went back to his room and closed the door behind me and before I could see anything, his lips to attached to mine. More kissing?! Well… all right. Though at the time I didn’t really agree with it. My eyes just grew wide and I let him kiss me before he pulled away. His hands when to my shoulders, resting his forehead to mine when he let out a small laugh. “Sorry, its just… well, I’d rather get blamed for something I did do.” He said to me. I wish I could have said something back but I was just a little shocked so I chuckled back. He got blamed for kissing me last night? Perfect. I collected myself again though and pushed away from him. “So… it went well last night huh?” I asked. “As well as I could have hoped for.” He looked around and noticed his surroundings when he ran his hand through that hair. Man, he made that look good. “I uh… I don’t feel so comfortable with us together in a room and my dad not home.” Yeah, thanks for that, Dean boy. Again I just laughed in the awkwardness, and we just looked between each other before I reached over and opened the door for him to leave. But then he looked at me and laughed again, saying, “Close the door, Roc.”
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Post by Raquel Knight on May 29, 2007 1:43:54 GMT -1
December 22th, 1995- War Journal Morning Three days before Christmas and here I am, laying next to Dean in Dean’s bed. Oh brill. I wont go into details for the fear of somebody else reading this journal. I guess Christmas came early for me though.
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Post by Raquel Knight on May 29, 2007 1:44:52 GMT -1
December 22th, 1995- War Journal Night We had a long talk, Dean and I. We came to the conclusion that the best thing to do would be not telling John. Dean said he had flipped when he caught us kissing so the last thing I wanted to do is get myself kicked out of the house which he was already threatening to do. I gotta say though, I don’t think I’d really care. I had a grin on my face all through dinner and we had to make up some inside joke for why we were smiling at the mashed potatoes. Sam was good though; I think he’s on our side if he was willing to pick a fight about string beans with his dad for us.
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Post by Raquel Knight on May 29, 2007 1:45:30 GMT -1
December 25th, 1995- War Journal Happy birthday, Jesus. Everybody opened their gifts and now I’m kicking myself for not giving Dean more since he just had to give me something more expensive than my vinyl but the look on his face when he opened it was priceless. Same with everybody else. And I am happy to report that John loves the beads I got him. I got from… Sam: Books about both hunting and a biography about the psychology of Syd Barrett John: Nice new Berretta (How did I know that was coming?) Dean: My very own protection crucifix.
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Post by Raquel Knight on Jul 23, 2007 17:45:21 GMT -1
December 28th, 1995- War Journal According to legend, a banshee wails around a house if someone in the house is about to die.
Traditionally, when a citizen of an Irish village died, a woman would sing a lament (in Irish: caoineadh,) at their funeral. These women singers are sometimes referred to as "keeners". Legend has it that, for five great Gaelic families: the O'Gradys, the O'Neills, the O'Briens, the O'Connors, and the Kavanaghs, the lament would be sung by a fairy woman; having foresight, she would appear before the death and keen. When several banshees appeared at once, it indicated the death of someone great or holy. The tales sometimes recounted that the woman, though called a fairy, was a ghost, often of a specific murdered woman, or a woman who died in childbirth.
Banshees are frequently described as dressed in white or grey, and often having long, fair hair which they brush with a silver comb, a detail scholar Patricia Lysaght attributes to confusion with local mermaid myths. This comb detail is also related to the centuries-old traditional romantic Irish story that, if you ever see a comb lying on the ground in Ireland, you must never pick it up, or the banshees (or mermaids - stories vary), having placed it there to lure unsuspecting humans, will spirit such gullible humans away. Other stories portray banshees as dressed in green, red or black with a grey cloak.Despite that its that awkward time between Christmas and New Years that normal little girls break their new dolls and little boys break in their new gloves, John is still telling us to research on… whatever.
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Post by Raquel Knight on Jul 23, 2007 17:46:46 GMT -1
December 30th, 1995- War Journal Talked to Dean and we’re actually a little upset keeping this from John and Sam. Well… I’m upset. Dean’s too caught up in the moment I think. He likes the thought of us having to sneak in a kiss for New Years and also is allowed to drink champiegn on the same night.
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Post by Raquel Knight on Jul 23, 2007 17:47:20 GMT -1
December 31st, 1995- War Journal It seems that John actually had a tradition with the boys for New Years. Fruit Salad, which is much like every other American family on New Years. I got to cut the strawberries. After dinner though, Sam passed out in the living room when we were watching TV, waiting for the ball to drop. So John moved him to bed and while Dean and I were alone together, he looked back to see John walking away down the hall before leaning in and giving me a small kiss on the lips before leaning back. ”What was that?” I had to ask and he turned to answer me, “Well I didn’t think I’d get another chance tonight”
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Post by Raquel Knight on Jul 30, 2007 7:04:50 GMT -1
January 3rd, 1996- War Journal Demons: Close to Satan. Malevolent Spirits. A demon is frequently depicted as a force that may be conjured and possibly controlled. The Razak is a common demon; its armoury and weaknesses are shared by many of its kind. Its half the battle won to know where these lie. Horns: Hard as iron. Wings: Strong and guarding. Tail: Swift as a whip. Hooves: Can deliver a crushing blow. Holy water is a common enemy of demons, as well as crosses. Glass arrow tips filled with holy water can be used as a great weapon. Sulfur: Presence and especially the smell are related closely with a demon. “Sulfur and fire pits of Hell” is where a demon would burn. Ritual Romanum: First published in 17th century under Pope Paul V and was untouched until 1952. It’s the only formal exorcism rite sanctioned by the Roman Catholic Church. Permissum nos precor. Deus , is est an delego of vestri habeo misericordia quod remitto. Audite nostrum votum , ut is vernula of vestri quisnam est reus per chain of sins , exsisto misericordaliter licentia per pietas of vestri goodness. Sanctus Senior! Omnipotens! abbas Eternus Deus! Abbas nostri Senior Jesus Sarcalogos! Vos quisnam fatum ut recalcitrant quod apostolus Tyrannus ut incendia of Abyssus ; vos quisnam sent vestri tantum filius in is universitas ut Is vires frendo is Murmur Leo Vultus confestim quod prehendo ex damnation quod ex is Diabolus nostri vicis is vir ( mulier ) quisnam eram partum in vestri statua quod visio. Conicio vestri formidonis , Senior , super Bestia quisnam est attero quis belongs vobis. Tribuo fides ut vestri vernula obviam is plurimus Malum Serpent , pugno plurimus fortiter. Ut Serpent non odio qui spes in Vos , quod narro - ut Is said per Pharaoh 'I operor ignoro Deus , quod EGO mos retineo Israel go.' Permissum Vestri validus vires vis Serpent promitto of vestri vernula , ut is haud diutius usus him quos vos intentio facio in Vos statua quod ut redemptor per Vestri Filius , Quisnam ago quod reigns vobis in iunctum of Flamen , ut Deus , pro umquam quod umquam.
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Post by Raquel Knight on Jul 30, 2007 7:19:09 GMT -1
January 5th, 1996- War Journal Its all so strange. After the exorcism yesterday, I was exhausted. We all were. Perhaps it was our way to forget what happened or just a way to feel human again. Sam was sent to Pastor Jim’s while John, Dean and I followed a lead. It was just a young girl. Couldn’t be older than 17 and both the demon and the ritual messed her up so bad, she didn’t make it through. Called the ambulances and left the scene. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized that we all cleaned up the place and covered our tracks before we even called for help. What animals we’ve become. I went to borrow Dean’s bed to sorta mull things over in and he found me. But he was kind enough to go and slip into Sam’s bed and not jade my slumber. When I woke, I saw him out on his brother’s bed and slipped out of the room, into the hall again. But when I passed by John’s room, I saw a site I don’t think I can forget. John on the bed, TV on and his arm wrapped around his boy that had passed out himself in his dad’s bed. He looked so innocent and John just sat through cartoon episodes so he could keep his innocence. So far, Dean and I didn’t have that luxury. I hope Sam’s lasts.
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