Hola all, this is my attempt at making a half way decent fic.
And as usual, I'm not insanely lucky enough to own Danny Phantom. shakes fist at Butch Hartman
Samantha "Sam" Manson walked down the streets of Amity Park carrying two paper bags filled with things she had purchased from a supermarket a few blocks from her home. Having gotten all the necessities; fruit, bread, nuts, and black licorice, she was heading back to the apartment she was renting.
The 23 year old had just graduated from college, majoring in child psychology. She was beyond ecstatic to hear that she'd been accepted from internship under the renowned psychiatrist, Jasmine Fenton. Though only a few years younger than Sam herself, Ms. Fenton had taken the psychology world by storm, earning her masters degree by the time she was Sam's current age. She also was apparently currently working to receive her PHD as well.
What made Ms. Fenton so different was that her work involved studying ghosts and relating them to human mental health issues.
Now Sam was a petite woman, with long black hair and startling violet eyes. She was wearing blue jeans and a violet tank top that set of her eyes. She was, for her entire teen years, entirely gothic, clothed in all black and other dark colors. Sam immediately realized, after entering college, that the gothic look would more likely scare kids than anything. Besides, Sam figured, she was who she was, no matter what clothing she wore. Don't get me wrong though, seeing her wearing pink, for example, would definitely be an apocalyptic event.
As she fumbled for her keys, setting down her grocery bags as she searched through her purse she heard a voice behind her yell, "I AM THE BOX GHOST and I shall bring you doom! Fear ME!"
"Uh good for you," Sam said, eyeing the ghost before her. He was short and squat clad in overalls. He didn't seem like much of a threat, but she figured it would be best not to underestimate him. He seemed like the kind of guy who could be easily confused, Sam decided, quickly devising a plan.
"Why," Sam asked, trying to look genuinely curious.
"What?" the box ghost said, looking thoroughly puzzled.
"I mean," Sam clarified. "Why are you so enamored with, uh, boxes."
"They hold things," he proclaimed, looking proud.
"So do bags," Sam told him, motioning towards her currently set down bags.
"They are quadrilaterals."
"So is my door."
"Well they hold things AND are quadrilaterals," the box ghost said desperately.
"Safes are both of those things," Sam said calmly.
She tried to suppress a laugh as the ghost yelled, "My life is meaningless" and began to fly away at top speed.
"What a funny little ghost." Sam murmured as she unlocked the door and headed into her apartment.
Though she didn't know it, someone else had watched her meeting with Box Ghost.
"Haunting this human should be interesting," a ghost said, grinning wickedly to himself.
Yes, it's a bit short, but that honestly seemed like a sensible time to end the chapter...
