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Name:
Jayla Callahan
Nickname:
Jay
Age:
23
Spouse:
none
Children:
none
Parents: Kevin
(Deceased) and Andrea Callahan
Occupation:
Psychic of the US Eastern Branch |
Physical Description
Height:
5' 7”
Weight:
130
Hair Color:
Red
Eye Color:
Hazel
Distinguishing Marks:
None really
Abilities:
Psychic
The ability to 'see' death. When with a dead or
dying person, she can 'see' the circumstances
surrounding their death. If it was particularly
violent, she relives it in a way, and marks similar
to the death marks will appear on her body. She
might even bleed, though as soon as she breaks off
contact, it all disappears. Usually this is through
touch, but she's gotten better at doing it within a
close proximity, but only with corpses. With the
dying, she has to touch. She can even state when
exactly they're going to die (this only works with
actively dying people, she can't touch a stranger on
the street, who's perfectly healthy, and tell them
when they're going to die).
Hobbies:
Cooking. She loves to cook. It relaxes her. Also
kick boxing, and looking up random things on the
Internet. (Once she even looked up the history of
spaghetti because she was bored).
Psychological Background:
She keeps it light.
Known for telling jokes and making off hand comments
meant to be funny. At the same time she is
predisposed to depression, and is haunted by the
dreams she has, flashbacks and overlying layers of
all that she has seen. At times just wants to hide
from the world. She can be impulsive at times.
She's been labeled as crazy in the past, and
sometimes almost believes it.
Personality Quirks:
She absolutely has to go running every morning or
her whole day is off. She'll even settle for a
treadmill. She listens to her music loud and is an
internet junkie. She keeps a bottle of sedatives,
from pills she didn't take over the years, hidden in
her drawer. Just in case, one day, it gets too
much.
History:
Jay
was born the middle child of three children in
Upstate New York. It was a nice life, her father
was a cop, and her mother was a chef at one of the
local restaurants. She has an older brother, and a
younger sister, and is fairly close to them, even if
she is the 'weird' sibling.
When she was fourteen, her father died in the line
of duty. This also was the first time she'd ever
touched a dead body. At her father's wake, she
touched his hand, and was overcome then with her
father's last moments. She started screaming, and
seemed to bleed from the same places her father was
shot, and she'd never been so frightened in all her
life.
Her uncle had brought sedatives for her mother, but
ended up using the shot on Jay. Everyone chalked it
up to hysteria, for people see only what they want
to see, what they can understand. Except for Jay.
She didn't understand any of what she'd seen. Until
later, when her father's killer was finally caught,
and she realized she'd seen him holding the gun and
shooting her father.
 There
was no one to talk to about this, and no one wanted
to hear it anyway when she tried, so she introverted
and locked herself in her room. Her mother still
believed it was over her father's death, and when
she was fifteen, she was sent to an adolescent in
patient psychiatric facility for depression. It was
nearly like summer camp, really, except for the
meds, and the doctors, and the group therapy. She
told her shrink what had happened, and he increased
her meds until she was little more than a walking
zombie. So she lied, and said she'd seen it all in a
dream, after reading all the news coverage of her
father's death. She was encouraged to let her
father go and move on with her life, cold comfort
when that wasn't even the problem.
She was released after thirty days, and made herself
into the girl the rest of them wanted. The sunny one
who was social and friendly, even if at times it
made her skin crawl. She'd shoved it out of her
mind, thinking maybe it was just hysteria, until her
aunt died of cancer.
She was watching her aunt in her last days, as the
rest of the family did, and held her aunt's hand
when she saw it again. Except this time it was
peaceful, and full of light and warmth. She knew
her aunt was going to die and wrote it down in her
diary. Her aunt died at the exact moment that she
had written down. Whenever she would attend
funerals, she would touch the hand of the body, just
to prove a point to herself that she wasn't going
crazy. And every time it happened. But she learned
to keep quiet about it.
There are a select few that know about her, and
believe it, for that she is entirely grateful. It
helps her convince herself that she's really not
crazy, and in her gratitude has been known to
provide assistance to them whenever necessary
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