A/N: (rewritten as of 6/1/13: I should point out that I'm trying not to change too much or else it would be an entirely different story.) Blind!Danny's getting worse at controlling his powers.. What will happen?
The best thing about being homeschooled was that I didn't have to go anywhere, which was fine by me.
Even so, I was a wreck. Parts of me would disappear, or go through stuff. I even got out of bed once and didn't touch the ground- I was literally floating an inch off the ground.
Basically, I couldn't control myself, and Jazz noticed.
I was sitting at the kitchen table, trying to see if I could get three Frootloops on my spoon and maneuver it into my mouth without dropping any. It was pretty hard work, but it let me put my mind on other things. Suddenly, the spoon dropped out of my hand, clattering in the cereal bowl and splattering milk in my face.
"Danny, what happened?" Jazz was sitting next to me, probably reading. That sound of ruffling pages always surrounded her.
"Nothing," I grumbled. "My spoon just slipped, that's all."
I heard her set her book down. "No- OH MY GOD, Danny your hand is missing!"
"What?" I felt around with my other hand- she was right.
I panicked (for all the wrong reasons) and tried to concentrate hard. I felt my stomach tingle, like I'd eaten some bad Frootloops just now, and my hand had returned.
Jazz was still spluttering next to me. "Hand gone... Hand back... Hand…"
"Calm down, Jazz," I glared in her direction, trying to mask my panic. I hastily stood up, abandoning her and my cereal.
But dearest sister Jazz wouldn't let it go.
I could feel her eyes on me all throughout the day. Once, I even bumped into her on my way to my room.
"What?" I asked irritably.
"Oh, nothing!" Her carefree tone masked a ton of lies.
She followed me downstairs, where I proceeded to listen to my iPod (the only hobby a blind teen could possibly have) when Jazz gasped histrionically.
"DANNY! Your foot is GONE!" she yelled.
I groaned. I concentrated again, but I felt the weird stomach feeling again.
I blinked and when opened my eyes- I wasn't blind anymore.
Jazz let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"Shhh!" I rushed to her side. "Hey, I never knew your hair was that long! And red... Like mom? Cool."
She gaped at me. "You can you can see? Danny..."
I started floating by accident, hovering inches over Jazz's head. "Whoops!"
"Omigosh what?" She closed her eyes and clutched her head in both hands. When she opened them, I was flailing my arms, now floating upside down, and that didn't really help the situation. I rotated my body, hovering rightside up.
"Calm down, Jazz!" I focused my electric green eyes into her teal ones, and placed my gloved hands on her shoulders. "Deep breaths. In, and out. There we go. Better?"
She shook her head, but I told her my freaky story anyway. I still couldn't believe it happened just three days ago.
I knew Jazz wanted to be a psychologist, so I wasn't surprised when she stopped hyperventilating and instead stared at me, analyzing every word.
She spoke up after I was done. "The- the ghost portal did that? So you're... You're like a ghost?"
"Yeah, whatever... But I can see!" I pointed out to her. "And I can turn human again."
To demonstrate, I focused on turning human, and the rings came back, along with my blindness.
Jazz was silent. "Um... I'll be at the library."
I sighed. The library, as many knew, was where she did her deep thinking.
I let her go. Somehow, I knew I could trust Jazz to keep the secret. I was positive.
In the meantime...
I couldn't resist. I wanted to turn back into the jump suited creature- was it really a ghost? Like Jazz said? I pondered over that thought for a moment, but then shook my head, like I was trying to rattle those thoughts out of my head.
Anyway, I went 'ghost' and spent about an hour just looking out the window.
If I could see all the time... Life would be a whole lot brighter- literally.
The library.
Jazz breathed in deeply from her favorite corner, surrounded by bookshelves. She loved that musty smell, along with the sound of rustling pages amongst the susurrus.
Living with Danny, Jazz had learned to open her mind to other senses, so she could feel the way he felt daily. It was wonderful, according to her, and helped her be more connected to Danny.
But the tale he had just told him? Impossible. Ghosts? Definitely impossible.
"Impossibilities are merely things of which we have not learned, or which we do not wish to happen*," a tiny voice whispered her head.
She frowned, opening her notebook to a new page.
Charles Darwin, the man who developed the theory of evolution, used to have a plethora of notebooks, named from A to Z, where he wrote down every single one of his thoughts, insignificant or not.
Jazz had taken to keeping just one notebook with her at all times, so she could write down what she wanted. It wasn't a diary, as she had often told Danny. It mainly held psychological-related things.
She chewed on the end of her pencil subconsciously as she thought about Danny's… dilemma.
It was pretty obvious that he had already dealt with it, mentally and emotionally. He hadn't panicked like she'd expected when she informed him about his missing hand. He even calmed her down- a job usually designated to her.
Jazz wrote down all of her thoughts hurriedly, so she wouldn't lose any. Finally, she reached the obscure topic of ghosts.
Danny wasn't a ghost. He was just as alive as her! Jazz knew that just because her parents believed in ghosts didn't necessarily mean that they existed.
But it would make sense if he was.
Danny was zapped by the Ghost Portal. All that ectoplasmic energy needed a way to escape, and he was the conductor. Obviously, some had stayed in him, somehow changing him. Altering him… but only halfway.
Jazz pulled out a book from the stack next to her. She'd picked out about twenty textbooks, biographies and handbooks, all about ghosts.
"Time to do some research," she murmured.
She was determined to come up with an explanation. A miraculous clarification on exactly what happened to Danny.
With that goal clear in her mind, she opened the book and began to read.
*by Charles W. Chesnutt. No idea who he is, but he said that lovely quote up there.