Just My Luck

Chapter Three

Disclaimer-thingy-mabob: Yeah, I don't own it.

I always despise the starting chapters of a story. That's when the characters are horribly OOC, especially in an AU. But I get better as I get used to the characters. Bah. But everyone (well, mostly everyone) still loves it anyway.

This chapter: Sam pisses off the lunch lady ghost, she talks more to the Box Ghost, she has to mediate a crying ghost, she finds out about Danny, and the authoress gives up on quotes because they're a royal pain in the ass.

The next thing I saw was the plate of fried chicken being hurtled at me.

I was going to kill my mother for sending me here.

I just stared stupidly at the plate as it crashed down next to me. I looked at Danny. "Is she for real?"

He nodded. "Yeah, she's for real."

I pursed my lips as another plate of fried chicken was hurled at me. As usual, nobody except for me had a clue about what was going on.

Normally I would fight a ghost this violent, but I didn't want to make an impression I didn't want, especially on the last day of school.

"Look, lady," I addressed the ghost as bacon was thrown at me, "I didn't mean to offend you-" I ducked a plate of pork chops, "-But what I meant was I don't eat lunch meat."

The throwing had ceased. She peered down at me. "No lunch meat, honey?"

I shook my head obediently.

"Are you insulting my cooking?"

A plate of filet mignon came hurtling towards me.

She raised a chicken bone club at me, probably meaning to knock my head off my shoulders.

I braced myself, but the blow never came.

Instead, Danny had punched her lights out.

She came crashing to the ground with a gigantic BOOM, and dematerialized. The rest of the crowd was cheerfully oblivious to what was going on.

I gaped at Danny. "You could do that? Why didn't you tell me?"

He smiled at me. "I thought you could take care of yourself."

I opened and closed my mouth like a demented goldfish. "You know what I meant!" I shouted.

Big mistake.

Dash looked at me. "Hey, the Goth is talking to herself. The Goth is crazy!"

"Yeah," Kwan chimed in, "She's crazy!"

I glared at Danny. "Thanks one whole freaking lot."

But of course, he was gone before I could say anything more.

I had to endure weird looks for the rest of the afternoon. Danny didn't show up for the remainder of the school day, so I saw him as soon as I got home.

"I'm back!" I yelled, throwing my backpack into the chair next to the front door. "Aunt Elma, I'm home!"

"Sam?" A faint voice issued from the ceiling. "Is that you?"

"Yes!" I shouted back to her, "It's me!"

"Wouldn't it be easier to just up there yourself?" Danny asked, leaning against the wall.

I scowled at him. "I became really popular today, no thanks to you."

He smirked. "You're the one that can talk to ghosts."

I made a face at him. "Shut up."

I heard footsteps on the stairs, and I turned to Danny. "Scram. I don't feel like playing interpreter."

"Whatever you say," Danny said with a sigh, and then was gone.

"Hey Sam," Aunt Elma greeted me, "You want to go shopping?"

I grimaced. I hated shopping with a passion. "I need some things for school, so yeah, why don't we?"

We arrived in front of Staples only minutes later. I pulled out my list, telling Aunt Elma what we would need.

I was wandering the isles for page dividers when I started to hear rustling from the boxes. I turned to look, only to see one throw itself off the shelf and fall on the floor.

As if on cue, the Box Ghost appeared next to it. "This shall be a great addition to my collection of boxes!"

"Not you again," I muttered under my breath, turning to face him. "Hey, Mr. Box Ghost,"

He turned to me. "Yes, what is it that you inquire?"

"Why are you still here, and how soon can I help you move on?"

The Box Ghost looked at me as if I had said the moon was made of cheese. "You cannot help me move on, because I shall not. I AM THE-"

"I know, I know. You are the Box Ghost, ruler of all boxes." I sighed, sitting down on the hard floor.

"And I do not want to pass on. I am content with where I am!"

I almost screamed. What is it with Amity Park and all these stubborn ghosts? For once, I'd like to meet one who wants to move on!

As soon as I finished that thought, I heard a pathetic sniffle. I rolled my eyes.

I had the best luck.

I was at the checkout counter with Aunt Elma when I saw Paulina.

"Oh my God, that's the Goth girl!" Her eyes widened, and she took a sip of her latte, or whatever the hell it was.

Aunt Elma took out her credit card to pay.

I gritted my teeth together. Something told me that nobody really liked me here in Amity Park.

Aunt Elma looked at Paulina and then turned to me. "Is she a friend of yours?"

"Not really." I answered back, as Paulina sashayed off.

Aunt Elma opened the car door and threw our bags inside. I reclined in the backseat, closing my eyes for a minute or two.

Almost immediately I heard a sob. I sighed and opened one eye.

A girl with long red hair and green eyes looked back at me, tears still running down her face. Her dress was down past her ankles and done in a golden color, looking like she stepped right out of the Renaissance.

"Who- who are you?" She hiccupped.

"Aunt Elma, my schizophrenia is acting up again!" I called.

"Alright." Aunt Elma said back.

"So, what's your name?" I asked the Renaissance girl.

"Cassandra." She answered, another fresh wave of sobs wracking her body.

Crap, I really am no good with criers.

"Um, Cassandra, I am Sam, and I am a medium."

"A medium?" Cassandra repeated.

"I'm a link between the living and the dead; I help the lingering dead pass on."

Cassandra dissolved into tears again as I watched helplessly.

I managed to convince Cassandra to get out of the car and follow me into my room. I sat her down on her bed.

"It's just… so weird." Cassandra said, pushing her hair back out of her face. "I'm so young, I'm not supposed to just have a heart attack and drop dead."

"I know, that is pretty strange," I agreed, wishing that Danny would hurry up and show before she bawled again.

I really, really don't like criers. I just don't know what to do with them.

"I mean, I'm working at this Renaissance fair up in the White Plains as Lady Condolence. I'm supposed to stroll around inside this college, being completely in character."

I nodded.

"And then, I just started feeling funny. My left arm hurt and my chest felt all tight. I went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and just collapsed. I remember blacking out." Cassandra swallowed hard, "The next thing I know, I hear sirens and shouts and screams and technical medical stuff being shouted. I can see everything, but it's all distorted and twisted and spinning."

Cassandra cleared her throat. "I remember seeing blood and a lot of crying people, and then I was home. My mother was sobbing and my sister was in hysterics. I tried to call out to them but I couldn't. So I wandered around for a while, watching everyone cry and then… it hit me. I was dead."

Cassandra finally burst into tears, "Why me? Why'd I die so young?"

Danny finally showed up as I turned to him. "Danny, you've gotta help me out. Please. I can't calm her down."

Danny just looked at me. "Couldn't you take care of yourself, Sam?"

"Oh, shut up!" I sputtered, "You know what I meant. I can deal with the violent ones, but not the criers!"

"Sam, I swear to God I don't understand you," Danny declared. "Hey, can you tell me what your name is?"

Cassandra sniffled. "Cassandra."

Danny smiled, "Hey Cassandra, why are you crying so hard?"

Cassandra's lip trembled. "Because I'm dead and I can't go back to living."

Danny nodded. "I know that's hard, but I've been dead for around forty years. You have to move on, okay?"

Cassandra wiped her nose with her sleeve. "But how do I do that?"

Danny shrugged. "You finish whatever you left unfinished, I suppose."

Cassandra nodded slowly. "Then can I move on?"

Danny nodded. "It works most of the time."

As I watched Danny work his magic on Cassandra, I started to wonder what he had left unfinished. Why was it taking so long? He'd been dead for almost forty years, so that would put his death around 1966.

"I think… I think I have to help my sister find my music."

That snapped me out of my trance. "Your music?" I repeated.

Cassandra nodded. "I am… er, I was going to be a composer when I grew up. I wrote a couple of pieces for the clarinet and piano. I played the piano and my sister played the clarinet. If I don't get them to her, nobody will ever find it. We were going to move to Oregon soon, so we have to find it soon!"

Cassandra panted, "Can you help me, Sam?"

I gave her a strained smile. "What choice do I have? When are you moving?"

"Next Tuesday." Cassandra answered.

Shit.

Cassandra had left a little while ago, promising to meet me tomorrow so we could plan something. Now I laid on my bed, studying the ceiling. I was aware of Danny sitting on the window seat across the room.

"Hey Danny? How old were you when you died?" I asked, almost regretting the question as son as I left my lips.

Danny glanced at me. "Is that a breaching of contract?"

I faltered. "I… don't know. I'm supposed to help you move on, so maybe we should start here."

Danny looked out the window and didn't answer. I thought that I had maybe struck a nerve, but it was only a few minutes before he spoke. "I was sixteen."

"Oh." I made a sad sound. I am only fourteen, so I could imagine dying that young. I raised myself up on my elbows to watch him.

"Well…" Danny turned to face me, sadness filling his eyes, "I was murdered."

A sudden gasp was wrenched out of my chest. Murdered?

"Oh, Danny," I began, unable to think of anything appropriate to say, "I'm so sorry."

Danny turned around so his back was to me. "But… it looked like a suicide."

I covered my mouth with my hand. "Who do you think it was?"

Danny's face contorted. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember? Why not?" I demanded, partly because I was so into his story, and it just might help him pass on.

Danny laughed, his voice sounding harsh. "I don't know, you tell me. Your guess is as good as mine."

I nodded sadly.

"I remember one thing, though… I died in the 1960s."

I looked up, shocked. This was going to help me a lot in my investigation.

I was going to find out what happened to Danny, even if it killed me.

Authoress' Concerns: Sam shows her loyalty to Danny. Already. Oh dear. Was that too soon?

Cassandra bothers me, though. I've always imagined that Sam couldn't handle crying ghosts. Maybe the angry ones, but not the criers.

I know that Vlad is the name of the villain in Danny Phantom. Does anyone know his full (human) name? I'm blanking on it right now…

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