A/N:Tah dah! New story!*presents story dramaticly*It's new mind you so it won't good that quickly.I made it for the angry mob!*points nervously at a shaking closet. whispers*help me!

Disclaimer-Do I look like a guy to you? I certainly hope not

The Ghost of Casper High

Chapter 1-Howls and Shrieks

Sam Manson let out a sigh of releif as the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day and the beggining of the teacher-free afternoon. She walked quickly out of the classroom and down the hall in search of her locker. Pulling a slip of paper out of her backpack, Sam searched for the locker number 234. Unsurprisingly, she found it in the oldest part of the school. Sam had moved into Amity Park a two weeks ago. Her parents claimed it was because their 'work' led them there. Of course, Sam knew they were lying and that they only came so they could meet(or stalk) the billionare mayor, Vladimir Masters.

Sam checked the paper again and twisted the combination into the locker. She pulled on the lock and gritted her teeth as it stayed shut. Sam entered the combination again checking if each number was right and it still wouldn't open. As she entered the combination for the third time and tryed to open it, a fist came and banged the locker. It popped open. The goth looked at the kid in surprise.

He had dark skin and eyes meaning he was an African American. He had a slightly slender complextion, but a bit of baby fat around his dark cheeks. The boy's dark brown eyes sparkled with intelligence and he slipped a shiny PDA into his pocket. He wore a bright yellow long-sleeved shirt and dark green jeans with brown combat boots. On his head he wore a red beret and hanging at his side was a dark blue backpack. It looked old and worn, obviously used for years.

"Yeah,"he said, gestering to her locker."They gave me that locker last year. I figured it out by the end of my day."

Sam smiled and pulled out the books she needed for homework."Thanks,"she said as she stuffed them into her purple spider backpack.

"Your welcome,"he stuck out his hand."My name is Tucker Foley. Your's?"

Sam took it."Sam Manson.I'm new."

Tucker chuckled."I can see. You don't know that most people don't come down here,"

"Why?"

"Because of the screams,"the African American whispered."The shreiks of agony that people hear at night,"

"What do you mean? You don't mean that someone died here, are you? And that their ghost haunts this part of the school?"

He nodded."That's exactly what I'm saying. In 1898, a few years after the school opened, a boy was staying after school for detention because a bully framed his prank on him. Murders had found their way into the school. Along with a few teachers, the boy was murdered."

"So the screams that people think that they heard were made by the boy's ghost who they think lives here?"Sam widened her eyes.

"Yeah."Tucker rolled his eyes."I don't think the ghost part is real, though. The murder may be true, but ghosts aren't real,"

Sam's eyes sparkled mischieviously."So you don't want to prove that theory?"

Tucker blinked."Where are you going with this?"

"I'm going to sneak into school tonight,"she informed him."I want to see if the screams are real. If they are, I want to see the boy's ghost,"

"I'm not going with you,"Tucker muttered."I know ghosts aren't real,"

"If they aren't real, then why won't you come with me? There's nothing to scare you. Don't you want to prove your theory?"

"No,"Tucker said firmly and began to walk away.

"i'll tell everyone that a girl was braver than you,"the goth girl called.

Tucker froze and turned around."Fine,"

Sam grinned."Good. Be here at 8,"then she turned and walked down the hall.

"What did I get myself into,"