Here's the next chapter!!! Thanks to all those who reviewed and will be named in the next chapter because I'm writing this way too late for myself to actually comprehend what I am doing.

Disclaimer: I don't own DP or it's characters.

"Her hand is disappearing..."

Twenty minutes later, Dad had signed me out of school and we both back at home with Mom. Dad was examining her hand with some ecto-device and Mom was staring worridly at it, hoping it wouldn't disappear.

Me? Yeah, I was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the T.V.

Maybe that's not as supportive as anyone would have liked me to be, but I wasn't our resident ghost expert. That fell under Dad's category. Besides, murder was much more interesting than Mom's disappearing hand.

Which, by the way, I still hadn't seen. Once we picked her up (Dad's way, by flight) I stared at it, wondering if my mother had somehow inherited ghost powers. Would she have inherited them though, or could they be passed in...other ways? Nevertheless, her hand had stopped disappearing and everyone seemed to be fussing over nothing.

"Is it tingly?" Dad asked.

"No..."

"Does it feel numb?"

"Not at all."

"Can you move your fingers?"

"Of course!"

I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath, "Can you rub your belly and pat your head?"

The tingly feeling of the DP sign over my heart appeared again. I really need to work on muttering under my breath. This would be the SECOND time today that I wasn't quiet enough.

Both of my parents sent me a glare. It had that eerie timing Uncle Tucker would sometimes describe when he told me stories about how Mom and Dad would shout, "WE'RE NOT LOVEBIRDS!" (My little side note on Mom and Dad's actions: Look where the denial got them: married with a kid. Moral? Don't be in denial. It won't work out for you.)

"Sorry," I held up my hands, dropping the remote. "You're just sounding ridiculous, that's all."

"Does a week's worth of groundation sound ridiculous?"

I hate it when Dad pulls out little quips like that. I'll bet he gets it from all of his ghost hunting. He does have to instantly come up with a witty comeback everytime the villian says a cheesy line that's just asking for a burn. I guess it's just a reflex now.

I was about to protest when not only did Mom's arm disappear, but so did her entire upper body.

"Sam!" Dad cried, forgetting about me and turning his attention back to Mom. (Tingly feeling gone...typical.) "What happened? ...Daemyn! I can't feel her hand!" (And the feeling was back.)

True it was. It seemed as if only the lower half of my mother was present in the room.

If you ever think that you've seen something scary, let me assure you that there is nothing more nerve wrecking than seeing half of your mom sitting on a chair while your father is in shock. I'm not sure how much therapy I would need when was all over.

Ten minutes of constant pacing, frantic phone calls to Uncle Tucker and Dad's face paling later, Mom appeared again. She seemed thuroughly exhausted and immediately collapsed into Dad's grateful arms.

Relieved as I was, I felt scared to death. Mom had opened her eyes for a moment, and I saw something I never wanted to see again. My mother's violet eyes radiated a cold, lifeless look that froze me to the core. When she awoke a few minutes later, they were back to normal.

But for that one second, an army of doubt entered my mind regarding the future.

Uncle Tucker arrived for support, along with Fitter and Kendra. The three of us immediately headed to my room and discussed what was happening.

Our questions were mainly who, how, and why. Kendra quickly scanned our database on ghosts. As far as we could tell, no ghost had any powers that would make Mom's matter completely disappear. And as far as we knew, no ghost would really try to attack her anyway. If you messed with the wife of Danny Phantom, you could pretty much consider yourself dead.

Compare it to the fate of someone who had decided to steal the Box Ghost's boxes. Or the Lunch Lady's cookies.

One word: DOOM.

My main concern, beside the fact that I could lose my mother at any moment, was this: Could it happen to me?