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Lily

Some people would call my "gift" a miracle. They tell me that because I can do things other people can't, that I'm "God-sent", and humanity's only hope for survival should the Ghost Zone decide to infiltrate the human world to dominate all of mankind.

I call my abilities an "affliction".

Ever since I could remember, I've been able to sense ghosts. Not too crazy, right?

Okay, stay with me: I can not only sense them, but I'm also technically… a part of them.

Yeah, that's where I lost my two friends AJ and Max when they first found out about my "special gift".

You see, it's a long story that started with my mom, dad and my Uncle Tucker. About two and a half decades ago, my parents and my uncle went down to my Grandpa Jack's basement, which was filled with ghost hunting equipment and a gigantic portal to the Ghost Zone (we'll get to that in a sec), and some accident happened. My mom and uncle turned on the portal after they dared my dad to go inside, and while he was in the chamber it turned on and shocked him. Ectoplasmic energy changed his genetic makeup, and he woke up as… well… not himself.

Next thing you know he's able to turn invisible, intangible to travel through hard surfaces, fly, shoot ecto-rays from his hands, use ice powers to freeze enemies and, my personal favorite that he and I both share, use a ghost sense. It goes off whenever a ghost is nearby, around 200 yards.

As a little girl, I trained rigorously to perfect my powers-to maintain the utmost control. My father used to say that the whole world would depend on me to do the right thing one day, and that I had to be prepared for when that time comes. Day in and day out when I wasn't doing homework, hanging out with friends or doing typical teenage rebellious stuff, I was training in obstacle courses and studying paranormal entities with my father, as well as mechanical engineering for some of our Fenton equipment.

My parents have always been a bit… rough around the edges. There was always this unsettling mood whenever they were around; it almost felt like they had been guilty of something they couldn't bear to express. I used to think it was out of remorse or regret that they had a freak of a daughter, but as time goes on I suspect it's something much more deep-rooted.

My mother is sad, and not just the normal kind of sad. There was something extra gloomy about her, and I don't think it had anything to do with her former Goth-self. There was an underlying depressive mood whenever she was around and it radiated heavily off of her body. If moods were weather, it would rain every day when she was around.

And my dad… My dad was just rigid. Tough. Too protective of me no matter what I did. I could never report enough to my dad; I could never share enough information. He knew everything about me-each breath I took, each meal I ate… hell, he probably even knew my resting heart rate. Yet he was still hard. 'Do this,' he'd say; 'do that', he'd demand.

Nothing was ever enough for him.

My mom says that he just cares-that he just wants to protect me.

It's embarrassing that my father doesn't trust me; other girls my age get to go out and have fun. AJ and Max are the only friends I have-the only friends I'm allowed to have. Keeping everything a secret and never being able to do what normal kids do drives me mad. Years of being strung out by combat training and ecto-plasmic artillery and normal kids get strung out by SAT prep and AP classes.

I stopped asking myself when it was going to end once I realized it would be never.

When the morning sun's rays greeted the outside of my eyelids, I rolled my head into my pillow. Such a comfortable, cushioned bed and the sun dares bother my slumber? I groaned, the heated remnants of my hot exhale soaking into the pillow. My alarm was going off ever so gradually in the background, the tune playing at a moderate volume. I hated when my alarms blared, but they couldn't be too quiet otherwise I wouldn't wake up to it. The funky upbeat jingle played on a small loop, which served as a constant reminder that I couldn't avoid the day's upcoming events no matter how hard I tried.

I heard the rapping of knuckles on the outside of my wooden door and I picked my head up abruptly.

"What?" I called aloud.

"Lily, get up! You're going to be late!" I heard my mother lecture on the other side.

"Can I just feign illness today?" I loved school, but I had an upcoming physics exam and I wasn't looking forward to using too much of my leftover brain capacity.

I loved science. And math.

But it took effort and effort wasn't something I had every day.

"Lily Jessum, I know you're not going to laze out today… you're almost done with the semester, hon. Finish out strong."

She was right. Summer was only a month away so there wasn't much more of this that I had to put up with. The end of junior year was neigh; soon I'd be thriving as a senior.

"Alright, alright, you got me. I'll be right down."

I didn't sit upright until I heard the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway towards the stairwell. Climbing out of bed, I stood to my feet and stretched upright as high as I could. I read somewhere that stretching or performing yoga first thing in the morning gives you a sense of control of your life.

Yeah, yeah, but it's worth a shot, right?

After doing the sniff test on a pair of pants and slipping them up my legs and around my hips, I rounded to the other side of my bed, shutting off my alarm and grabbing my phone. Five text messages-two of them from AJ; three of them from Max. I unlocked my phone, pulling up the text message thread on the screen.

From AJ:

6:33 a.m.: "hey dood! Up and at 'em, big exam in Abernathy's class! Did you study?"

7:02 a.m.: "omw to your house; hope you have food ready."

7:29 a.m.: "lol ur parents love me dude. I think they wanna adopt me."

I'm sure they do.

I pulled up the keyboard, typing a lengthy and witty response at a swift pace.

"They can have you, I'm tired."

After pressing send, I arrowed back and tapped on Max's thread:

7:01 a.m.: "hey guys! Not gonna be able to meet up for breakfast, had some stuff to take care of w/ mom b4 school. Meet you guys outside the bookstore. Xoxo"

I sighed deeply, tucking the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. Max's mother was diagnosed with stage two breast cancer and she's been sicker than a dog on radiation pills. They wanted to save removing her breast tissue as a last resort, so the oncologists were exhausting every other measure. Max was so burnt out, though; there was nothing suckier than having to take multiple AP classes, prepping for college, and supporting someone with my kind of lifestyle without adding a sick parent to the mix.

And her dad… her dad wasn't around. He disappeared when Max was little and she hasn't heard anything from him since. He just walked out the door when she was four-years-old, waited for "daddy to come home" and when it never happened, she just learned to accept that it never would. As much as she says it doesn't affect her, it was obvious in her personality.

Max was a shell of what she could have potentially been. It's unknown how she attracted such vibrant people like me and AJ into her life, but she was beyond shy, especially around others. Considering we were her best friends, she was much more outgoing within the trio and did great in aiding in patrols. That was the only time Max knew how to be brave, though; outside of ghost fighting, Max was a vulnerable girl with many insecurities. Countless times I've had to come to her rescue when Rachel and her posse bullied and emotionally tormented her

AJ… boy, what to say about AJ.

I guess you could say AJ is technically my cousin considering he is Uncle Tucker and Aunt Val's kid. Okay, we aren't blood-related but my parents and Tucker have been friends since they were in the first grade. That's a lot of history with a lot of meaning. When everyone branched off and had kids, they all stayed in touch. AJ and I were almost never apart growing up. Sometimes I think he spent more time at my house than he did at his.

My phone buzzed; I held it up.

From AJ.

"Up yours"

I scoffed playfully, returning my phone from right where I got it and grabbing a shirt from my closet. Skimming through the different materials, my hand rested eagerly on my old Beatles t-shirt. Nothing like classic, English soft rock to brighten a Monday morning. I pulled it over my head and slipped it on my torso, grabbing my black and white Converse sneakers before leaving my bedroom abruptly.

I bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen to meet the sight of my mother, who was spreading butter onto wheat bread, my father, who was sitting at the kitchen island drinking coffee and reading an article on his phone, and AJ, who was wolfing down a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. Mid-chomp, he stopped and made direct eye contact with me.

"You know," he talked with a mouthful of food, "I would've saved some for you, but you took too long."

"Trust me, I don't need it; my appetite is long gone."

"AJ, don't talk with your mouth full," my mom tsked at him. "Your father used to do that all the time when we were your age; it's a disgusting habit."

"Sorry, ma."

I chuckled, grabbing a glass cup to fill with orange juice. My dad remained still and it was almost as if he couldn't sense that I was here. I stared at him, waiting for him to look up at me and acknowledge my presence.

It didn't happen.

"Uh, good morning?" I called pryingly.

His eyes darted up as he pulled the newspaper down a bit. "Huh? Oh. Hey sweetheart."

"Must be some interesting stuff going on in the world for you to be so closed off from the outside."

"Your father is just lost in thought, hon." My mom prepared a plate of breakfast and set it aside. "Here's a plate for you."

"Uh, actually, no thanks Mom. I'm gonna pass. I'll probably just have a Pop-tart."

"That's not enough."

"I'll be alright."

I grabbed a package of Pop-Tarts from out of the food pantry and closed it behind me, using my two hands to rip the plastic wrapping in half. My mom gruffed, visibly annoyed with my intentional lack of nourishment. I couldn't help that I didn't regularly eat breakfast with my family; I was a busy girl tending to many different things. Besides, every meal felt like the gathering after a funeral. There was an unwanted presence of negative emotion every time I was in the same room as my family and I absolutely hated the awkwardness it caused.

I loved my parents, but I've always felt like there was a different side of them-a different side of me-that I never knew about.

"Mom, it's okay. I'll be back in time for dinner. AJ, Max and I are going to patrol for a bit after school and then we'll be home."

"No patrol tonight," my dad rebutted. "You have the PSAT's to study for and you need to stay focused."

"Dad, I'll have plenty of time to study before I have to take it. It's the second to last week of the semester."

"Lily," his eyes looked up from the paper before him, daring me to speak another word in opposition. "That wasn't a request."

I sighed deeply, giving my mom a kiss on the cheek before making my way over to him. I wrapped my arms around him, placing my forehead on his shoulder and giving him a light squeeze. "Can we talk about it?"

"My answer is final."

I pulled back quickly, as if his entire body lit on fire and I was nearly engulfed in the flames. I loved picking this fight with my dad; I'd love it even more if I got to win from time to time.

I said nothing else as I walked alongside AJ, muttering a brief "let's go" before walking ahead of him. AJ didn't respond, but I could hear his footsteps pacing steadily behind me.

…

"They just care, Lil, that's all."

AJ was munching vigorously on a granola bar, shifting the chewed up chunks to one side of his cheek while he spoke. I shuttered, scoffing as I forcibly closed his jaw with a palm-up hand.

"What did I tell you about doing that? Disgusting…"

"It's a habit, my bad." He shrugged, reaching behind him to put the rest of his wrapped up granola bar in the side-pocket of his backpack. Shoving his hands in his jean pockets, he kept walking while taking extra care of not stepping on any cracks in the sidewalk.

He was still the superstitious type that believed that stepping on a crack was bad luck. I wasn't entirely sure of the whole "break your mother's back" aspect of it, though.

"What am I going to do with them? How can I approach them with how I feel?"

"Well, I'll tell you this much: keeping it inside is good for nothing but driving you mad."

"Right. So again, how do I approach them?"

"How long have you been feeling like this?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I don't know… since forever, I guess. I've always felt like a part of myself was missing."

"Like an existential crisis? Or a secret twin?"

I pulled back, my eyes falling to the ground. "Secret twin, I suppose. I don't know how to explain it, but it's like… I've only been living half of myself-like there's another half I don't know about."

"Have you ever asked your parents if you were a secret twin? Maybe you ate them in the womb or something."

"Not directly, no… I mean, I've asked if I was a single child."

"What did they say?"

"They said 'they'd tell me when I'm older'... but now I'm older, and I still have no answers."

"Maybe they don't have any," he noted.

"I wish I believed that."

The plus about living in such a small town such as Saxton is that all of the neighborhoods were mushed together. About an hour drive (with decent traffic, at least) of where my hometown Amity Park is, Saxton was the second most prevalent town of popular ghost sightings, so of course my parents just had to pack us up and move us here. I don't really know why we moved away from home; maybe there were too many bad memories there for my parents to endure. They always said the home we lived in when I was born was difficult, all things considered. They never did explain why.

They never explained anything.

Just left me in the dark.

AJ had lived in Amity Park too, but moved to Saxton about two years after my parents did. Aunt Valerie and Uncle Tucker got married, but then once Aunt Valerie's dad died and Uncle Tucker's parents left Amity Park to retire and travel around the world, he didn't feel the need to stay considering his best friends and family were gone. So, he followed after us. I'm not complaining; it was fun living three blocks down from AJ's house.

Only thing is that the kid was annoying as all hell, constantly dropping by to eat my food, sleep on my couch or throw pebbles at my window.

I still loved him, though.

Wellington High School was only about a ten-minute walk from my house, but sometimes we took the shortcut through one of the straight alleyways that led to the back of the school. It shaved off a couple of minutes since we didn't have to cut across the busy street and use the crosswalks.

As soon as we saw the back of the school drawing nearer, we spotted Max outside burning through one of her cancer sticks (cigarettes) and chilling carelessly on the concrete steps. Her eyes skimmed the environment surrounding her, which made her stop at the sight of us. She gave a small smile and waved.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, double-checking the text message thread that took place between the two of us earlier this morning.

"...meet you outside the bookstore."

Well, clearly we're not outside the bookstore.

"Hey, did the bookstore location change or did you just not want to make the journey?" I called aloud at her.

"I waited there for about five minutes before I said, 'well, I could really use a cigarette.' So I stepped out."

AJ chuckled, looking left and right before crossing the street with me in tow. We stopped about five feet from Max; I shook my head with a mocking smile.

"One of these days you're gonna get caught and suspended for smoking on school property. I thought you said you were gonna stop?"

"Yeah, but I also said I'd try."

"You're not trying when you keep buying cigarettes," AJ reached behind him to continue snacking on his granola bar. Max used the opportunity to rip it out of his hands. "Hey!"

"Yeah?" She jeered, taking a bite out of it in front of his face. "I'll stop smoking when you stop your snacking habit."

"At least I have a healthy habit."

I rolled my eyes at the pair, grabbing one arm each and walking between them. "Come on, you two."

They pushed the door open and my grip loosened on the two. We were greeted with a gust of cool wind, a sign that the A/C was kicked on full blast to combat the transitional summer weather. Flocks of students were congregated, moving in colonies throughout the hallways to get to their destinations. Some of them, particularly the popular cliques, were loitering in the hallway completely absentminded of other people's transportation.

"Seriously? Why is it that when we come to school we just feel like cattle being herded?" AJ groaned, annoyed at the amount of bodies surrounding us.

"We take in students from like four different middle schools-some of them on the borders of our district. It's actually surprising that we don't have more."

I crossed my arms, still standing between the two. I watched as Jared Lidelman flicked the thick-rimmed black glasses off of Anthony Malloway's nose before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him up against the locker. Anthony cowered shyly as his fingers looped around the white leather of his jacket, and I could swear that I saw Jared's hazel eyes go black as he menacingly clucked. All he needed then were the frosted tips of his light-brunette hair to run silver and he'd look like the stereotypical menace in literally any comic book ever. His two bird-like pervy meat-headed jock buds, Cameron Douglas and Chad Brannigan, laughed and gave each other a high five. I felt my blood boil.

Poor Anthony. He was such a sweetheart. I had him in my creative writing class last year and he was so passionate about his work. His poetry about the young girl and her scribbled-upon diary lost at sea brought me to tears; the whole class was emotionally affected-they were talking about it for over a week. He'd even submitted it to Scholastic in hopes that he would be given a scholarship, and even though he didn't win his nomination gave him the recognition he needed to spice up his college resume. I don't know why he was targeted so much; Anthony was by far the most attractive nerd I've ever seen, if you go beyond the stereotypes. He had glasses and freckles, sure, but his dirty-blond hair and dimples made him look like a Campbell's soup boy. He wasn't puny and lanky, but rather adequately lean and formed out.

I think it more so had something to do with the clubs he was a part of and his academics; he was, after all, a straight-A student with a mixture of AP and pre-college classes. He was also head of the debate team, chess club leader, student body president and spelling bee reigning champion two years in a row. Added to that, he tutored calculus after school on Tuesdays and Wednesdays-he's even helped AJ a couple of times when he was on the verge of flunking.

He was beyond talented and super, duper sweet. On the day of a big writing project I had run out of mechanical pencil lead and didn't have any spare ones on me; he gave me an entire container and told me it was "for keeps". I never did repay him.

I hate Jared and his stupid crew; why did they have to make other people so miserable?

If he knew just what I was capable of, the circus act would be cancelled for sure.

"Ugh. As if the IQ rates in this school weren't dropping low enough, Jared and his monkey crew are on the move again. Looks like hibernation is over."

"I think he only acts like a dick because his is small; think he's overcompensating?"

"His dick wouldn't be the only thing too small to use," AJ snorted.

The jokes that we cracked made the humorous mood radiate throughout our trio, but the mood shifted drastically when Jared escalated the situation by grabbing Anthony by the neck and throwing him into an open locker, slamming it shut and taunting him through the vents. Anthony had gone from unsettled to completely freaked, banging on the inside of the locker hysterically. He sounded as if he'd been in tears, yelling out like a lost child in a department store. "No! Let me out, Jared! Please, let me out of here!"

"Let's see how long it takes for a brainiac like you to figure your way out." Jared cackled and his buddies joined along.

Breathless, medium-pitched laughter that deeply resembled that of a sociopath.

I hated that stupid fucking laugh.

My eyebrows furrowed and I felt the clenching of my fists mix in combination with my eyes flashing green. AJ and Max's heads darted towards me, with him wrapping around to the front of me and gripping my shoulders.

"Hey, now. Relax. It's not our fight, Lil."

"Somebody needs to stand up for him; Jared took it way too far."

"Lil, come on. Let's just flag down a teacher and send them to help."

"The faculty never does anything, Max, and you know it. Cover me."

AJ and Max looked at each other and reluctantly, but obediently, hugged each other. I transformed into my ghost half, phasing through the floor below me and hovering slightly ahead until I aligned myself in the presumed area of the lockers. I peeked my head through the floor, noticing that I was directly below Anthony. He had been cradled up in a fetal position, his arms crossed and holding onto the opposing bicep. His head had been buried in between his legs and liquid had been falling from his elbows.

He was crying.

Anthony was scared and anxious… and he was crying.

And Jared was cackling like an idiot on the other side.

Anthony didn't deserve this. No way.

I grabbed beneath his arms and pulled him out. His facial expression shifted from fright to relief. I phased through the adjacent wall and pulled him to his feet in the room behind the set of lockers, setting him down and re-materializing him in place. Quick as a flash, I bolted from the room and rejoined my friends in the hallway, who've now migrated to the science hallway about 100 feet away from the doors. They watched as I stood to the floor and Max covered me as I transformed back.

"Problem solved. Anthony is out of the locker and safe in the AP algebra class."

"You really didn't have to do that," AJ gave me a nonchalant look as if to tell me 'dude, mind your business'.

"She absolutely did!" Max exclaimed. "In fact, I'd go as far to say that she should take it further. You should give him a taste of his own medicine."

"I can't start a war with someone just because he's a numb-nut," I leaned up against AJ's locker, eyeing the analog clock to see how much time we had left before the neurons had to fire off at a rapid rate.

A.K.A. the chemistry test.

"He's already started a war-a war with the outcasts! You just have the upper hand to finish it."

"Max, she's what the comic books call 'a hero', so unless she sees true injustice being done she can't really do anything."

"Case in point," I huffed, hearing the first bell ring. "We gotta get ready to go. Five minutes."

"Did you guys study? I didn't understand any of that shit," AJ frowned.

"You should've come over to my place; I would've helped you study."

I gripped my backpack, securing the strap on shoulder before starting towards Mrs. O'Donnell's chemistry lab. I clutched my AP chem book, admiring my friends from slightly afar as they laughed and joked. I found it hard to believe that someone as freaky as me could have friends as normal-well, as normal as possible-as them. As I watched the traffic of students clearing throughout the hallways, I wondered how different my life would've been if I could be more like them. Other kids worried about normal things like acne with enlarged pores or figuring out who to ask to prom; I worried about saving pedestrians from being hit while crossing the sidewalk or stopping a ghost from achieving world domination. My father nearly single-handedly stopped an asteroid from hitting Earth when he was around my age; that's a feat only a hero could possess.

Yet, he couldn't live out his adolescence the way that he wanted to. He missed out on a lot of opportunities.

Then when he had me… when they had me, they practically had to give up the one lifestyle that they'd always known.

For my parents ghost fighting was everything; after they had me, I was their everything.

Not that I'm complaining, but being their everything did have downsides.

I watched blankly as Max pinched the fatty portion of his upper right arm. He winced and jumped back, holding his arm protectively. "Ow!" He yelped. Max raised an eyebrow at him amusingly.

I had been so lost in thought… this was one of those situations where my mind was traveling to other places my body couldn't go.

"For once could you just not make me the punching bag?" AJ pouted grumpily.

"Lighten up, butterfly." She shrugged, putting a wooden pencil between her teeth before heading into the room, AJ following behind her. When they reached past the doorway they both stopped and turned towards me.

"Lil, you coming?" AJ asked.

My eyes returned to focus, looking at the puzzled expressions on my friends' faces. I snapped out of it and mentally commanded my feet to move forward, but before I could take more than a few steps a wisp of cold air left my mouth as I gasped.

I looked left and right, seeing nothing but the trailing of last-minute absentees hurrying into the classrooms. I looked back at my friends desperately; they'd seen what happened and knew just what to do. Max gave me a determined nod and AJ winked. They moved to sit in their seats; I hurried to the end of the hallway and dropped my backpack on the ground, rounding the corner out of eyesight before transforming into my ghost half.

This sucked. Bad. I was going to miss my chem exam, I wouldn't be able to make it up and Mrs. O will fail me. If she does, my grade will go down one and a half letters and my GPA will be the worst it's been in over seven years.

Guess it's a chance I have to take when I'm a teen hero.

I turned intangible and floated through the ceiling, stopping in mid-air right above the roof of the school. I looked ahead and there, down towards street level rampaging against the inhabitants of a bank, was a ghost with grey skin in red-colored, tattered clothing. People screamed helplessly as they ran away in fright, and the ghost laughed maniacally, holding one bag stuffed with paper money as he telekinetically hovered another bag in the air and moved it towards him.

I dashed towards him, stopping about ten feet away.

"Money's not a man's best friend, and it's certainly not a ghost's either."

He stopped and looked at me, a sly smile on his face.

"You? I was expecting Danny Phantom to come and take me away. Never knew measly runts could be ghost fighters too."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, if I were you," I grinned, my balled up fists glowing green. I hurled a few rays at him, but he quickly dodged them and took off into the air.

I raced after him, gaining closely on his tail. He resorted to migrating in circles to shake me off. Fly-aways of money that were left hanging loosely out of the bag fell to the ground below as we raced at over one-hundred and fifty miles per hour. He dropped the bags on top of a nearby jewelry store, hovering face up and shooting at me. I moved left and right, dodging each blast without any effort. We stopped, floating face-to-face with death glares plastered on our faces. He summoned a sheathed knife-a machete that was used specifically to target ghosts-and firmly gripped the butt of it before swinging away towards me, moving closer and closer with each attempt.

I jumped back, dodging left and right and down as I went. On the final blow, I was slow only by a millisecond but it was enough to land him a hit. He sliced at my stomach, breaking the skin of it just as suddenly as he'd rested it at his side. I screamed aloud, touching my stomach with an empty hand and holding up my palm.

Ecto-plasm. He was deep enough to cut me.

I looked below for anything that I could use to stall or in any immortally wound him; I needed to get some sort of leverage over him if I was going to overpower him in any way. I spotted a broken piece of venting duct and telekinetically picked it up, flinging it as hard as I could towards the ghost. Just as he turned to look at the hurling object, he was too slow to move before it crashed into him, throwing him several feet away before he steadied himself. I moved closer to him, pausing just before him in a ready stance.

"Stings, doesn't it?" I asked mockingly.

"It's about time someone puts your halfas in your place."

"Oooh," I cowered sarcastically. I focused intently, feeling my head split as I formed duplicates of myself. The clone on my left held out its hands, oozing out ecto-plasmic goop; the clone on my right repeating the action as it faced adjacent to me. I stood in the middle, the goop coming together to form a stretchy, belt-like strip that I used catapult a ball of ecto-plasmic ray towards the opponent. I quickly loaded two more in tow, firing rapidly at him. He easily dodged the first two, but was caught off guard slightly by the last as he created a shield that cushioned the blow but knocked him back several feet. Through grit teeth he stared me down; despite the inkling of fear I'd felt within me, I didn't back down.

His expression lightened and he looked at me almost amusingly. "Wait a minute… it can't be. Danny Phantom's daughter?'

"Danny Phantom never had any kids; there's room for more than one halfa in this world."

"Oh, you're not fooling me at all, little girl. You are a spitting image of him, distinctive only by the generational gap that separates you. That and… well... " he eyed me up and down "other things."

"You're disgusting," I growled. "And it's time for you to go back where you belong."

I reached behind my back and closed my fingers… fabric.

Spandex fabric.

Oh, no. The thermos.

I forgot my thermos.

"Shit!" I cried quietly, and the mysterious ghost before me laughed.

"Your father was less reckless, little girl, and you know what they say about reckless behavior."

He held out his wrist, and strapped to it was a contraption with a gaping hole pointed straight at me. In a split second, he fired a mini-rocket at me and about halfway towards me it enlarged, opening up revealing miniature holes occupying a circular platform. Just before the modified rocket fell to the ground, tiny pellets shot out and pelted my body. I yelled out in pain as they punctured my skin, a camo-green color oozing from some of my wounds. I was hit mostly in the arms and torso, but I still had fight left in me.

While grabbing my left arm, which contained most of the wounds, I used my unoccupied hand to shakily aim at him but the immense pain was distracting me. We heal fast, but I wasn't healing fast enough and it was ruining my focus. I noticed vision beginning to blur; I worried that I would pass out mid-battle.

Close to my eyes shutting, I faintly saw the whir of a figure—a new figure not previously involved—whizz by and whisk the ghost away. I shuttered, feeling an overwhelming cold sensation while my body healed the new wounds inflicted against it. I looked to the left and down to faintly see a ghost, dressed in a spandex outfit similar to mine, ripping my opponent a new one. He back-flipped behind him, putting him a chokehold before taking out an ecto-thermos—one in which I so carelessly forgot—and sucking him in. He capped it firmly.

Despite my attempts to remain conscious, my vision blurred heavily as I saw the figure get bigger and bigger with every inch it closed between us. Faintly, as if I were underwater, I heard a baritone voice of a male speaking to me, but I couldn't make out the exact words. It was the last of what I'd seen before I started falling down towards the rooftop of the building below me. I felt two arms loop around me—one at the legs and the other braced behind my back. My head rested against the unknown ghost's chest—likely a halfa, judging by his attire. His hair was a snowy white color, with tan skin and green eyes.

Weird… the only other halfa that looks exactly like that is my father.

But it definitely wasn't him.

"Had it… under… control." My words were slurring badly.

"Didn't look like it from where I was standing," he responded gruffly in a deep, slightly matured voice. "Just hang in there, girly."

Before I could piece together who the mysterious savior was, my sight went dark.

…

When I came to, I was lying down on the asphalt of the employee parking lot in the back of the school. My eyes were facing up towards the sky, but my head was resting on something soft. I searched left and right throughout the lot, spotting no signs of normal human life. Sitting up and looking beneath me, I saw a gray hoodie balled up and my gaze followed it up towards… the halfa.

The same one that had rescued me earlier.

The weirdest part about all of it, though, was just how closely we bore resemblance. Looking at him was like looking in the reflection of water before the ripples. He was essentially me, from our height all the way down to the final strand of hair on our heads. I brought my hands up to look at myself, my skin a snowy white with light tinges of red where blood circulation isolated in patches spread about. As I gazed at the sky, watching the clouds roll slowly across the blue blanket beyond, I festered the urge to comment on how obnoxious it was of this unknown man to assist where he wasn't warranted.

As annoyed as I was, I bit my tongue. What he did was a nice and caring gesture. Maybe I thought that I had the situation under control, and regardless of whether or not I did it easily, it could've taken a turn for the worse. It was easy to become frustrated when you're so used to winning upon fending for yourself.

I should've been thankful; why did I feel so bitter?

I quickly stood up and he held his hands out innocently, offering to help me to my feet. I lightly shook my head to and fro as I gently moved his hands away and crawled to my feet.

"Whoa, it's okay!" He called aloud, " I didn't want anyone to spot you in case you transformed, so I just took you back here where it's more discreet. Try not to move too fast; I patched you up a bit once you changed back."

"Thanks, but I didn't ask for your help." I brushed some patches and specks of dirt off of my pants.

He scoffed amusingly, his mouth agape in disbelief. "Yeah? Well for someone that didn't need it, you sure had a good grip on things."

"I did. If you didn't come along, I probably would've had him."

"Without a thermos?" He asked sarcastically.

I huffed, crossing my arms at him. I noticed the bandage wrapped firmly around my arm and eyed him cautiously. "What do you want then, huh? Some kind of reward? Who are you anyway?"

"Who are you?"

"I asked you first. There aren't many halfas on this planet without some kind of established connection."

He shrugged, as if giving his identity wasn't a big deal at all. "The name's Damien."

He held out his hand, taking a couple of steps forward. I eyed him suspiciously, my shoulder tensed up to my ears. He seemed harmless, but they almost always do before they rip your head off of your body. I took the brief moment of peace to analyze him; he was just a kid, actually. Probably no older than me. He was so mysterious and so unknown, yet he looked so familiar.

How?

How do I know him?

Do I know him?

There are only three other halfas besides me that I knew for a fact existed: my father, who's been one practically his whole life, his cousin (my aunt) Dani, and his arch nemesis that he's fought time and time again… the one that he's trained me my whole life to be powerful enough to stop… Vlad Plasmius.

So… who was this? And why am I just now finding out about him?

Whoever it was, I don't trust him for a second. I secretly vowed to keep my eye on him, but that didn't mean I couldn't at least show him respect. After all, he did save me.

I sighed defeatedly, taking his hand in mine and giving it a firm shake. "Lilith, but… just call me Lily."

He half smiled. "Pretty name. Oh, and don't worry—you don't owe me anything."

My head snapped back with a furrowed brow and pursed lips accompanying it.

What did he just say to me? This egotistical jerk…

I huffed. "Good. Because I wasn't thinking about repaying you."

"Ouch," he said with a chuckle. "You ever lighten up? Even a little bit?"

"Look," I began matter-of-factly, "I appreciate what you did for me, no matter how unwarranted, but I don't know you and I don't trust those I don't know. So just keep your distance until I size you up and we'll be just fine."

He got closer to me until our faces were mere inches apart, his eyes staring deeply into mine so sharp that I could feel them penetrating my soul. Yikes… only one other person made me feel that way and that was my father.

"Don't worry, princess—if I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it when I had the chance."

My face contorted to a light snarl, feeling the heat bubbling in my blood turning up a notch. How egotistical could someone be to so confidently acknowledge that they are a threat without actually being a threat?

What's next—he's a new student here and I gotta deal with him as a human too?

Oh, no.

Oh, shit! My exam!

"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered rigidly, lacing up my shoes before booking it towards the front of the school. As I raced through the entrance, I took care to adjust the sleeves of my hoodie to cover the bandages before circling around back to the door of the rear hallway, spotting my backpack laying haphazardly on the ground completely untouched. I threw it over my back and hurried to Mrs. O'Donnell's chemistry classroom.

Hopefully she's as forgiving as the sweetest part of her is known to be.

Mrs. O was super cool, but her biggest pet peeve above anything was a student being tardy to her class. She has this golden rule where if you're more than five minutes late, you'd mind as well stay out because she's marked you absent. On top of that, she was heavy on giving in-school suspension slips when you were tardy on the day of an exam; according to her she can't safely assume you're not cheating by writing the answers on your legs or arms in permanent marker.

Silly rule, but this was how she combated those who didn't take her class seriously.

At this point, I was pushing twenty. It was times like these when I wished I could be honest about who I was.

As I reached her door, I looked through the window to see Max and AJ sitting at their desks with their faces aimed down at their demonic pieces of paper. Max, at the second closest column three desks back from the front, was effortlessly writing characters down on unbroken lines—probably a chemical formula of a sort—and AJ, at the furthest column from the door and two desks back from the front, was completely zoned out. I could tell he didn't study; easy to assume when during our trio session he'd just hog the chips and "share" the answers from Max and I.

I did a light finger-tapping dance on the wood of the door. One kid did look up—Ethan Nolanski, who was someone the three of us considered a good friend, making eye contact with me which caused him to cue Max, who was sitting at the desk beside him. He stuck his leg out within her line of sight and tapped his shoe. Max looked at his shoe, then up at him, then followed her sight to me.

Before I went into class, I had to figure out what my cover story was.

I moved out of Mrs. O's line of sight, holding my hands to either side of me palms up as if to ask "what's my motive?"

She stuck her finger to mouth, pushing her tongue out and rolling her eyes back a little.

Vomiting.

I guess I'm sick to my stomach today.

I gave a nod and grabbed the door handle, turning it and making my way inside. The class stopped what they were doing and looked up at me. Their attention didn't matter nearly as much as Mrs. O's, who was eager to see my arrival.

"Ah, Ms. Fenton. Are you feeling better?"

"Uh, yes ma'am. Bad sushi, I suppose. I just wanna get my exam done and over with."

"Are you sure you don't want to just stay with the nurse? Maybe call your parents to come and get you? You can make up for the exam later."

"Yes, I'm sure. I've studied all week for it. I'm ready to take it."

She grumbled. "Well… alright. Here's your packet. You know the rules: number two pencil, no talking and no playing charades."

"Yes ma'am," I took the packet gently from her and made my way to my station just behind Max, setting my stuff down before taking a seat. I eyed the clock on the wall as I nonchalantly took a number two pencil out of my bag.

Thirty-five minutes. I had thirty-five minutes to take a one-hour exam.

Yeah… should be simple enough, I suppose.

Right when I was about to put the pencil to the paper, the door opened again. Every student, including myself, looked up to see a new kid walk through the door.

A new kid who had dark blue, ocean eyes with jet black hair and a very lax skater-boy outfit on—gray beanie, baseball t-shirt, faded blue jeans and black Vans.

No way. No fucking way.

It better not be who I think it is.

"Sorry I'm late, ma'am. Late start this morning and had some trouble finding the class."

"Oh, it's no trouble! You must be… Damien, right?"

"Yep, that's me."

For fuck's sake.

"Are you fucking serious?" I muttered. Max turned back to look at me.

"Who is that?" She whispered.

I looked at her and back at him. He was looking for somewhere to go after Mrs. O told him he could have a seat anywhere. There were only two available empty desks left in the room—one beside Gassy Gary, a sweet kid who just had a chili dog addiction, and one behind me.

Please, please don't pick what I think you will.

If I had any luck he wouldn't be in the class at all.

Sure enough, though, he picked the spot right behind me.

He took a seat confidently; I could feel his mocking expression singeing my hair and burning a hole in my scalp.

Shut up.

Shut up. No way.

There is no way my life is that much of a coincidence. Another halfa in town who also happens to be a peer of mine? I'm being punked—where's the camera?

I heard the creaking of nuts and bolts against steel as he leaned forward in his desk and put his mouth to my ear. "Pretty hard to keep your distance from me now, huh?"

Un-fucking-believable.

…

Damien

I hated this.

Switching to a new school in the middle of the year was never fun. Cliques were already a thing; I had to find my classes all over again.

Plus moving from a rural state versus moving to the city is a big adjustment.

I checked the clock on my phone. 7:35a.m.

I'd better hurry if I was going to make it to school on time.

I threw my gray skater beanie on and left my bedroom, closing the door behind me before racing down the stairs. By the time I reached the bottom, I was already out of breath. Leave it to my father to buy the most expansive and expensive mansions the world had to offer; why did he need all of this room when it was just the two of us and his fluffy cat?

I found him in his study while I was on my way to the kitchen. His door was open, an indicator that he wasn't up to anything critically important but he obviously still didn't want to be bothered.

That wasn't a lucky guess; that was just knowing who my dad was.

"Hey. About to leave for school."

"Ah, yes… your first day at a new place. Excited?"

"I guess so," I shrugged. He had his back turned to me facing the fireplace and I could tell from peeking at the side of the chair that he was smoking a cigar. A cigar, a fire and a cushion chair for my father? The perfect mixture. The gears shifted when he set the cigar down in the ash tray and rose to his feet, slowly making his way towards me across the area rug to meet with me face-to-face. I sized him up as he approached me, noting every premature wrinkle on his face, his tall and lanky stature, and his long slicked-back silver hair as is glistened in the light of the dim chandelier above us. I swallowed roughly, feeling a rock in my throat as it traveled down my esophagus. How my father managed to be such an aged, yet scary man was beyond me. He was the primary reason that I never brought friends home, and never had many of them growing up.

"You know what you musn't do, don't you son?"

"Don't draw attention to myself."

"And?"

I rocked forward and backwards from the heels to the balls of my feet. "And make sure no one finds out about... who I am."

"Who you are and where you belong," he corrected with an erect index finger. This transitioned to an open, braced hand on my shoulder. He gave me a light squeeze and a gentle smile before narrowing his eyes so intently that I could swear he was trying to burn a whole in the back of my head. "And never trust a soul... in a world that will misguide you, be cautious when you venture out with a herd of sheep... for somewhere, there could be a wolf."

"Yes, Father." I responded nervously, but in compliance.

I was incredibly shaky about being able to blend in and just finding my way… I mean what kid transfers to a new school within a month of completion? Honestly? My dad didn't notice the wavering in my voice, though—just briefly reminded me to grab something small to eat for breakfast at least and move along.

I had triple-checked my schedule—AP Chem first, Room 125 with Mrs. O'Donnell. Fun. Followed by calculus, lunch, and robotics. The school operated on a block schedule; four three classes in one day and a different three the opposing before they alternated.

That was a plus at least. Every day was slightly different.

I gave a brief "bye dad" before starting off, making my first stop at the pantry before grabbing a granola bar and securing my black backpack before heading out the front door. The transition from the inside of a deserted lair to the sunshine and activity of the outside world was depressing and stark in contrast. Everything about my life was sad and gloomy; for as long as I could remember it's just been my dad and I.

I've mustered up the courage to ask about my mom in the past, but I'd always be given the run-around. "She left", "she was into drugs", "she started a new life"…

I knew my dad was lying to me about my life, and it hurt me.

The biggest mystery, I think, was how I've gotten my… abilities. Everyone had their secrets; mine is one that I can't just be open about with anyone.

My dad and I are both half-ghosts. I know how it sounds—absolutely insane. But it's true. We have the same abilities as ghosts in addition to self-defense abilities. Turning intangible, flying, disappearing, shooting these ecto-plasmic rays… hell, we can even possess people. I don't really know where it came from and how long I've been able to do it.

All I know is that it makes me a freak, and makes it way harder to blend in.

That I know of, there's only two others that share the same gift as me: my dad and his arch-nemesis Danny Phantom. I guess the guy was some kind of hero—saved the world decades ago from an asteroid hit. He and my dad had history; at one point he'd even tried to steal me away.

My dad panicked—packed us up and moved us as far away to an undisclosed place as possible. He's been training to be stronger, faster, and more unstoppable ever since. When Danny Phantom comes around again, it won't just be for me—it'll be for the entire Ghost Zone, a dwelling where ghosts reside when they've left our world. He's already got a reputation for practically running it; some people claim he's a dictator… power hungry beyond measure.

If he ever comes near me or my dad, he'll be more than sorry.

I'll kill him where he stands, and anyone else who gets in my way.

I bundled up, zipping my light gray hoodie up and tossing the hood over my head. At the same time, the summer breeze picked up as it whistled in my ears and fluttered in an abstract pattern. I shuddered, taking my skateboard that was hidden behind the bush in the front of my house and putting the wheels to the concrete.

As I rode out of my neighborhood I passed a few unproblematic residents, including Mrs. Livingston. Her husband died only a year before and ever since then she's been lonely sitting on her wooden rocking chair occupying her wrap-around porch. Every Sunday I help her tend to her garden and join her in her individual Bible study. I'm not much of the religious type, but everyone could use a little spiritual healing sometimes. There's no better way to mend the heart than show your faith.

I smiled at her, waving generously; she returned the gesture.

"You stay out of trouble, you hear?" She called aloud.

"I'll try!"

I rolled to the end of the street, looking both ways before I continued on. There wasn't anything like the wind of a summer breeze to make you feel like everything in the world could be right forever. I loved the summer; I loved being outside. I loved being away from my dad, his criticism and the lies that I know he's telling and just being present in the moment. If it were up to me, I'd go away forever. Whatever would spare me pain.

At the end of the day, though, I know I can't run away from my past—who I am.

I saw the rooftop of the school coming into view and I began to slow my pace. I'd almost come to a complete stop when a green ray of light bursted before me. I stopped just short of it hitting me, only landing about two feet in front of me. I hopped off my skateboard, stepping on the lip as my eyes watched the sky above me. There, I saw a fire fight.

A ghostly fire fight.

What the hell is that…?

I watched as a cloaked, dark figure went toe-to-toe with… a girl. A young girl that appeared to be around my age. She was even dressed in similar attire to me-an all-black spandex jumpsuit with white gloves and long, flowy radiant silver hair.

Wow… how weird is it that she looks so similar to me in ghost form? Wait a second… is she a halfa?

Just when I thought the fight was dying down, I watched as the halfa's opponent initialized a mechanism strapped around his wrist, hitting her with a blanket of small ecto-based pellets. My mouth fell open as I watched them pelt her body; she winced and pulled herself back in pain.

Oh, no… this isn't going to end well.

I looked left and right, making sure there weren't any people around before I dropped my backpack beside my skateboard and transformed into my ghost half-jet black hair turning lightening silver, soft ocean blue eyes turning bright green, and normal skate boy clothes altering to a black and silver jumpsuit. I sprinted into action almost immediately, catapulting myself from the ground below me to get closer to the chaos. Before making any sudden moves, I wanted to make sure I sized up the whole situation.

There was nothing messier than getting yourself into something you couldn't get yourself out of quickly.

There was a weak spot with this one-he had tunnel vision. I could tell based on the way that he aimed and the speed in which he moved when he threw punches or hurtled echo-rays. His peripheral vision was weak, if present at all.

He's got blind spots all around the back of him; there were many cons to being able to see only at a forty-five degree angle.

I wrapped myself to the side of him, bracing myself for the impact of my torso slamming into his hip as I pushed him away from her. Grabbing onto either side of his head, I did a backflip to land behind him and steadying him in a chokehold to stop him from fleeing. I grabbed my thermos and placed the head of it above him, pushing the button to suck him in. When the last hint of him was gone, I sealed the thermos with a cap and strapped it onto my back. As I hovered over to the girl, I examined her closely. To say she was in bad shape was an understatement.

The girl looked like she'd been hit by a truck.

Indents caused by the pellets poked at her right arm (mostly), torso and leg, she had a deep, long scratch on her stomach, and echo-plasm was seeping out of the different holes throughout her body. She was panting rigidly, completely unfocused on the presence of another ghostly being.

"Hey… you okay?" I asked her.

No response.

Before I could get anything out of her whatsoever, her eyes rolled back, lids closing as she fell towards the ground below. My heart skipped as I raced after her, catching her in my arms before stopping and looking down at her face. Well… from what I could see; the heavy gust of wind blew the strands of her hair to the front, so the little that I did see remained revealed. I moved them back, grazing her face carefully with my hand.

She was beautiful-one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. Her fair, porcelain skin exposed not a single flaw aside from her battle wounds; a couple of scars from former deep gashes were present sporadically on the skin-mostly the neck and some on her face. Her button nose was turned upwards as her head hung back and her pursed lips remained slightly agape.

"Had it… under… control." Her stupor words made her sound as if she had been drinking her life away.

"Didn't look like it from where I was standing," I responded gruffly. "Just hang in there, girly."

When she didn't respond, I grew slightly worried. I needed to know that she was well enough to not require much needed medical attention-at least to a degree a regular hospital couldn't provide. I would've rather been discreet, but beggars can't be choosers and in the lifestyle that was forced upon us, we very much begged. We begged to have abilities not granted to the average person; great power comes at a great cost.

"Hey," I whispered, tapping her cheek gently with my hand to arouse her.

Nothing.

I looked around defeatedly. Here I was playing a hero for a hero; it's ironic if I'd ever seen it. Why didn't I know this ghost, though? Years of training and touring the Ghost Zone led me to believe I'd known every ghost that existed, even the ones I'd never encountered.

This one-this one especially being a halfa-I've never met before, and it made me feel uneasy.

I knew I couldn't take her into the school; it would draw attention and the last thing she needs is a visit to the infirmary. At any point in time she could change back to her human form, so wherever we went had to be discreet. I spotted the practically secluded employee parking lot at the back of the school, and after flying back to my original spot to load my skateboard into my backpack and hoist it onto my back, I held onto her tightly as I flew back towards the school.

…

I had just reached the classroom when the final bell rang, and I opened the door haphazardly, clearly embarrassed that I'd attended so late when every other student was on time. As soon as I stepped foot through the door, the woman greeted me with a soft and reassuring smile.

"Sorry I'm late, ma'am. Late start this morning and had some trouble finding the class."

"Oh, it's no trouble! You must be… Damien, right?"

"Yep, that's me."

"That's okay."

She turned to her desk and began shuffling around some papers, seemingly locating my file which had to have been buried somewhere beneath the mountain of papers and manila folders. My face scanned the class absentmindedly as I attempted to distract myself from the light scraping and whirring of papers being sorted. A couple of the kids in the back, including a stocky light-brunette sitting in the back and jerking around with two other letter-jacket wearing thugs.

Great, just what I needed. How did jocks get into an AP chem class?

This class was going to be fun.

I had just gotten over the record-breaking biggest eye roll when my sight stopped on a familiar face.

A girl, but not just any girl. The very same girl that he'd seen moments before; the girl whose life he'd saved.

Stellar, I felt himself mentally smile devilishly.

I made eye contact with her briefly before she averted her eyes awkwardly, looking down at her desk and tracing her fingers against the steel surface. I looked back at Mrs. O'Donnell before she approached me from the side.

"I don't have any more available desks and almost everyone is matched with a partner, so I want you to go ahead and sit behind Lillith and you can partner up with her for the remainder of the semester. This works out! She was working in a group of three due to odd numbers, so-Lillith!"

"Lily," she exhaled sharply.

"Damien is going to partner up with you for the rest of the semester."

She grew doe-eyed, looking between the both of us as if it were a stick-up. She rose to her feet abruptly and shook her head.

"Uh, Mrs. O'Donnell I don't think that's a very good idea-"

"Sure, it is! You can get him up to speed and just pick up where you left off."

"No, I mean… why I don't just swap with Jessica? I can take Whitney and he can her?"

"Oh, Lilith, don't be so negative. Let him sit behind you."

"But Mrs. O'Donnell-!" She tried to protest again, but the teacher hissed at her.

"No more! He's to sit behind you and you are to accept that you now have a new partner, end of story. Monday we are swapping desks, capish?"

She groaned, dramatically sitting herself back down in her seat and resting her head on her right hand with her arm propped upright. I smiled and gave a nod of approval, making my way down the aisle and taking the empty seat to her rear. As I set my backpack down beside my desk and placed my AP chem textbook off to the side, I saw her desk move away from me out of my peripheral vision. I looked deeply at the back of her voluminous, jet black hair.

Just to egg her on a little bit more, I pestered her with one more one-liner.

"Pretty hard to keep your distance from me now, huh?"

"Alright," Mrs. O'Donnell continued plainly, "now as I was saying class: no talking and when you're finished with the exam, please place it on the desk and prepare to start the next unit."

Lily fumbled around and opened up her notebook, eyes focused intently on the paper. She was either very fascinated with the content that we were learning or she was attempting (horribly but attempting nonetheless) to avoid me at all costs.

"Good to be working with you, buddy-"

"I'm not your buddy and don't get it twisted-I do not want to work with you. As long as you don't make me do all of the work and take the credit, then we'll be fine."

"Now why would I do that?" I asked coolly.

"You did it before," she grumbled, smacking the front page of her notebook against the desk and picking up her wooden pencil. "Don't try it again."

"You two," Mrs. O called aloud at us, and our heads snapped up in her direction. "No talking during the test."

I gave a swift nod, my face tightening for a moment before relaxing again. I could tell really dug under Lily's skin as she gave me a pair of sharp daggers through a side-look and scoffed. As we simultaneously took our school materials- a notebook for me and her packet for her - and placed them in the center of our desks flipping them open to the correct page, we slowed our movement to watch each other. It was almost awestricken to see two people who barely knew each other move almost exactly in sync. I've never seen anything like it before, and by the looks of it neither has she. The odd part was that she didn't need to turn around and look at me to know what was happening; the sheer sound of it ringing against her eardrums was enough of an indicator.

I cleared my throat, continuing on; she gave her a quick shake left and right before doing so. What I wouldn't have given to get inside of her head so that I could take note of every single thought that crossed her mind. I had to settle with playing mind games with her, as that was as close as I could've gotten without full-on possessing her. I've never attempted to do that with another halfa before; I wasn't sure if it was possible, as I've never seen another halfa.

This would be interesting, and that's saying the absolute minimum.

A/N: Hope you guys are enjoying this lovely story so far; stay tuned because it gets better! If I don't update before then, Happy Holidays!