My name is Emily Miller.
I am a hunter.
And this is my story!
"Come on over here, Emily.", I heard my mother shout after she broke off the hug with the stranger. She was smiling at me, as was he. He was tall, very tall. He had a tired looking face, a scruff beard and messy, dark hair. I clutched my teddy-bear a bit tighter to my chest as Dad gave my hand a soft squeeze. I was hiding behind my father's leg, but not because I was afraid. Oh no, hiding there was merely a precaution! Dad let go of my hand and I felt his palm on the back of my head. "Don't worry pumpkin, you don't have to be afraid. He is an old friend of mine!" When I wouldn't let go of his jeans he added in a warm tone: "At least go and say hello." I nodded and took a few steps away from Dad, towards the stranger, who seemed to grow with every step. Another breath in, another step closer. On a second look, he wasn't even that tall. He was barely as tall as Dad and I wasn't afraid of Dad either. Mom once told me, that a stranger isn't a stranger anymore, once you knew his name. So I mustered all my courage, extended my arm and offered him my hand. "My name is Emily. Very nice to meet you!" He crouched down, so his face was on the same level as mine and took my small hand into his big one. He gave me a smile that looked just like Dads: Kind and warm, but there was something else - a hidden pain and sorrow. "Hello Emily. Nice to meet you too! My name is John... John Winchester!"
