Hidden In Plain Sight||Supernatural

||supernatural fanfiction||
Jazzy Luis has been dead for 15 years.
That's right, you heard me. Dead. Not emotionally. D E A D. Stone cold actual dead. And yet she's still there, but only just. With barely what anyone would call a life (as she's not actually alive) she wanders the old worn down hotel, helping strangers in simple ways because that's all she can do.
Until, of course, she meet Sam and Dean. The hunters.
The ones who kill ghosts for a living.
And the ones who decide to spare her.


1. Hi, I'm Dead (prologue)

Hi, I'm dead.

Not emotionally dead or anything, really dead. Stone cold actual deadness. Yes, I know, 'but you're talking to me right now, what are you talking about?' I don't know myself really, sorry I can't answer that question.

I was buried fifteen years ago on a summer day and I had 19 bullet holes in my chest. Someone really wanted me dead, not that I remember why. The cops don't know either. My parents don't know. I guess the murderers know, but they're pretty much the only ones in that club. My gravestone said 'rest in peace Jazzy Luis'. That unoriginal title might make anyone want to haunt their parents till the day they die and longer, but they were grieving so I'll give 'em that much.

Now, you're probably stuck on the haunting part. Do I? Well I like to call it more, 'uninvited spectacular visits' to be honest with you. The word haunt seems a bit overkill. My mission, in fact, is to help. Oh yes, I'm on of THOSE people. I hate those people, don't get me wrong, but it's just small stuff, like when they can't find their charger I'll just leave it on their pillow. I generally hang around my dad's old hotel that he runs. I used to help him with it and recently mom died, so doing small things to help people their was the best I could do. My mom didn't come back as a ghost (or whatever you want to call me).

I've seen some weird people. For instance, there was this guy that checked in with like.. Nineteen cats. No, I'm not kidding. Nineteen. But one guy showed up, and he didn't look like the others. Maybe it wasn't just looks, just the general feeling of him rubbed me the wrong way. I stood behind my dad and stared at him. His blond hair was swept to the side and his blue eyes seemed too perfect for his face. No one could see me (that's what I had found out) so when he looked me directly in the eye with a scowl I felt shivers race up my spine.

"What're you looking at?" My dad asked, turning around. I felt my heart speed up as his eyes merely grazed over me.

"Oh, nothing." The guy said. I took a step back and vanished through the wall. I'd rather be looking for someone else's charger.

That night I silently sat on the mans bed. No I wasn't being suggestive, I was simply waiting. I made a paper airplane, my legs crossed. I flung it and it flew around the room and then back to me. I was about to swing it again when the door slowly creaked open.

"Oh," the man whispered. "It's you." I nodded and flung my arm out, the airplane hitting him directly between the eyes. He leaned down and crumpled it.

"Listen, I'm busy." I shrugged and slowly got up, leaving the room. I didn't sleep well that night.

The fridge light illuminated my face. I shuffled around and grabbed a glass of milk in the back. I put it in the microwave and clicked the numbers. One of the Jeffersons kids didn't sleep well without warm milk and the mom never caught on. I turned on my heel and froze. My father was on his knees, blood spilling from his open mouth and his eyes were wide in shock. I backed against the wall and watched as blond hair slowly disappeared into the night outside. My breathing slowly picked up as I heard a shrill scream echo in my ears and realized it was from me.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...