DontTakeMyMemories

He dreamed that purgatory was a forest. It wasn't so much a dream as it was a nightmare. A thousand crippled branches lay scattered on the ground, tripping him up, and brambles and thorns tore at the weary man's dirt-stained clothes. Trees rose up around him, closing out the ash-grey sky, and the air smelled of sulfur and brine. He was driven further into this abyss  by monsters, and he lost his best friend, his only friend, his angel. Purgatory was a hell. He dreamed that purgatory was a train station.  A thousand weary souls stood in waiting, clinging to ragged luggage that they had brought along with them. Dean held in his aching arms a