Part 6 in the Meant To Be series

THE LAUREL ACADEMY…

Written by Slayer Isis

Summary: A connection has finally been made. Yvonne Donnelly, one of the Demon's previous victims, went to the Laurel Academy in Massachusetts as a child. Sam and Dean realize other victims went to the school in 1976…one of whom they knew very well: Mary Winchester. And as the discovery is being made, the girls now at the academy are being terrorized at the school…

Summary Note: According to the CW's Supernatural, Season Two's "Night Shifter" and "Road kill" (and everything in between) have occurred. The story takes place a few months after the events in Part 5 of the MTB series…I'll say it takes place in mid-summer 2007.

Author's Note: My original thought was to have this entire "episode" (or "part") completely Amy-less and focus more on Dean and Sam's hunt. There will be mention of her, of course. But I may change my mind if she actually shows up or not.

Rated: PG – PG-13

Distribution: I do not own Supernatural, it all belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW and etc. I do not wish to be sued. Etc. (I own Amy and anyone else that I, have obviously, made up.)

Dedication: To my sister, Sarah. Also to the cast and crew of Supernatural – they've all done a great job and have delivered a great show – hope to see it last for at least 5 years (or 10).

Feedbacks/Comments/Reviews much appreciated. (Note: I foresee that I'll be able to complete this story successfully and on time, without any pause or delay, if I receive many comments. Just a thought.)

Thus, I introduce the sixth installment of the Meant To Be series

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.

Chapter One – Brave Little Girl

I'm going to die, she thought. She bit the inside of her lip. Hard. The child tasted a drop or two of blood – the sweet liquid only reminded her more of the concept of death. People bleed when they die. They die and then bleed. Death. Blood. Murder… Her head wheeled around to the side. A sound? She could taste more of the blood on her torn flesh inside her mouth. There were no tears. She never cried. Maybe when she got hurt really bad, but not when she was scared. Fear only made her more paranoid every second. It consumed and devoured her and it wouldn't let her go until Jill could realize that everything that was happening was just a figment of her imagination. Just a bad dream…just a bad dream… Then why was the taste of blood growing in her mouth? The cut she had done to herself was small. Her mind was making her believe she was drinking blood. Her own blood. Like a little vampire… Stop thinking of blood and death, she told herself bravely.

Her knees were pushed to her chest; hands wrapped around her legs with torn stockings. Little fingers stroked her own knees, trying to tell herself it would all be over soon. It would all be over soon… Jill held herself tighter. Any tighter and she would roll into a perfect ball. Her maroon-colored uniform was soaked in her own sweat. The rim of her gray skirt was torn, revealing a cut on her small, peach-colored thigh. The twelve-year-old's usual curly, chestnut-colored hair was flat and sticking to the sides of her moist face. No tears, just sweat. She never cried…

Jill dared herself to not remove her position in the corner. This was her safe place. Close your eyes…count to ten…or fifteen…thirty, would be better… And it would all be over soon…

She thought of her mother. And father. And that adorable little brother who was just learning how to speak… I can't wait to come home and teach you how to make a box of clay or paint or how to speak French… Even though I only know a little… Italian is definitely better… The blood in her mouth reminded her of eating pizza. I can't wait to eat pizza with you little brother… No tears… She wanted to scream randomly. That would make everything better. Someone could come to her aid… To her rescue.

Prayer, she thought. Mom believes in prayer…

Jill had never accepted God. She knew most girls at her age believed in him. To Jill, God was Santa Claus. Over time you believe in it with a passion…but eventually you grow weary of that fantasy and learn the real truth… There is no man in a red suit who delivers presents. And there is not a giant being that watches over everyone and protects them… Why pray? If God is powerful…and if God has a "plan"…why pray at all? Can prayer make God think: "Well gee, they do have a point. I'll grant them this one thing…" Asking God of something is the same thing as telling him…so God is not all powerful…which means everything she had learned in her bible course had been wrong…which would mean God did not exist… Jill tried to remember everything about bible class. It would make the time go by faster. She thought about the French teacher she hated. Soon she was in a new language class: Italian. She thought about math. She liked math. But not as much as Language Arts. Books, poems, essays…her escape into a fantasy world…

It was summertime, she realized. Back home in Arkansas, she would be in a pool. She loved to swim. Her house had a large pool in the back yard with a large tent over it. She wanted to swim in the pool…her parents drinking wine at the bench beside the pool…her little brother sitting in a floatie. She remembered her excitement when she was told she would be going away to school…

Year-round school…a school that made you do homework during the summer…a place that offered parents the options to let their children stay at the academy during the summer to take extra courses. They say I can graduate by the time I'm sixteen if I keep it up…

Another noise. That same eerie sound… Jill's head shot up, revealing a set of bright green eyes. Her lips were pressed tight against her knee. Her hands wrapped around one another. The small body began to rock back and forth…humming to herself… I wish I were at home…in the swimming pool…teaching my brother bits of Italian and eating pizza…

The girl did not see the hand suddenly come through the wall. The arm was made of mangled, red flesh. Its nails were gray and sharp – they even looked as if the nails had been bitten in some places. The rigid edges of those nails moved through the wall…revealing an entire arm…

The arm was right about Jill's head. She did not see the arm…or the hand reaching down to her…but she knew it was there…

Finally, Jill ran…

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water…

Her bruised, cut-up bloody legs ran as fast as they could through the dark corridor. Old paintings of past alumni hung in the shadows…their eyes watched as she ran…begging that she run faster away from the being…

Jack fell down and broke his crown…

The girl felt her knees give out…she was tired…and she crashed onto the floor…

And Jill came tumbling after…

Books, poems, essays… She thought about her greatest passion in school as she lifted a bruised chin from the hard, wood floor. Strands of those once-beautiful chestnut curls fell in front of her face as she weakly got up to save herself…

Jill rolled onto her back, trying to avoid getting up by using her knees… They hurt.

She came face to face with the being that had chased her… Her mouth opened and she screamed… The blood from her lip formed on the corner of her lip…

The same disgusting red arm reached out toward her…

I'm going to die, Jill thought. And she grew tired of screaming…

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Hope you like it so far. Please let me know what you all think!

Reviews/Comments/Feedback much appreciated. And thanks again for all of the reviews/comments I received from "Dreadful Journey."