Ch. 5

I didn't go after the ghosts. I almost did, believe me, but Tucker and Sam held me back. "Dude, you really don't want to mess with ghosts," Tucker warned as we started back for the cafeteria. "Are they always around like this?" I asked, glancing around at the still-full cafeteria. No one seemed to have heard the crash of the lockers above the clamor of teenage gossip. "Well, Amity Park isn't the most haunted town in America for nothing," Sam said with a shrug. Most haunted? Huh, I hadn't known that. I really needed to start researching stuff beforehand.

Danny didn't reappear until after lunch ended. Something was definitely up with that guy, beyond perhaps the need for more fiber in his diet. Maybe I was just being a bit paranoid, but I still vowed to keep a watchful eye on him just in case.

The rest of my school day went by pretty fast. It was really just the same thing over and over again. Sign the teacher's roster, collect paperwork, get whatever I needed to get caught up with everybody else. There was a lot of work, and I was really not looking forward to it at all. Once the final bell sounded, I rushed to my locker and struggled to heave everything into my backpack. Damn textbooks weighed a ton. At this rate, I was going to have back problems by the time I graduated.

There were a few people making their way towards the Nasty Burger as I headed out of the school. I almost considered joining them, then remembered that I had no money and trashed the idea. Instead, I started off towards the apartment, my backpack slowing me down considerably. Stupid books, I thought. Why must they be so heavy? Man, if I had superpowers, I'd find a way to levitate my bag and have it float beside me or something. Maybe just being able to fly would help out.

Before I could delve deeper into my superhero dreams, a scream interrupted me. Abandoning commonsense, I ran around the corner and towards the noise. Well, I tried to run. It was pretty awkward with my backpack, but I managed to get to the scene of distress. A chill ran up my spine for the second time that day, and when I looked up I saw, you guessed it, more ghosts. Couldn't they just go and haunt a cemetery or some decrepit old house?

Ghost-kid was back, and so was Metal Guy. No wait, excuse me. His name was Skulker. They were arguing or something, it was hard to tell. People ran past me, and someone yelled, "You can take him, Danny Phantom!" So, Ghost-kid did have a name! It wasn't as ominous as Skulker's, but oh well. The bigger ghost had a gun rise up from right out of his arm and he aimed it at Phantom. This guy was packing some serious heat with that monstrosity. He shot what looked like a missile, but the ghost-kid dodged it easily. So caught up in the fight was I that I didn't take care to notice that the missile still flew. In fact, it crashed right in the building behind me. I yelled out, ducking and covering my head with my arms as part of the wall rained down on me.

Except, I didn't feel anything.

When I dared to open my eyes, I found myself buried in rubble. But, when I looked down at my body, I saw that the debris had fallen through me. I was still standing in it, but my whole form was nearly see through and I couldn't feel anything. With a yelp, I jumped back, out of the pile. Instantly, I was solid again. The ghosts had flown off down the street, crashes and yelling exploiting their location. Meanwhile, my heartbeat was racing. All I could do was stare at myself, wondering what the hell had just happened to me. Unable to come up with an explanation, I turned tail and ran for home.

Later that day, I was sitting on my bed with the door closed and locked. Dad was still at work, but he had called earlier to say he'd be back soon enough. It was fortunate for me. If he saw what was going on, he would freak out. I sat still, staring at my hand with a mix of shock and confusion. What did I do earlier? I had already panicked enough for one day, so now I was trying to figure out what was going on. Taking a shaky breath, I closed my eyes and concentrated. When I opened them, I was sinking into my bed, my body literally going through it. I almost screamed as I jumped a bit, falling onto the floor with my now solid body. This was so creepy! It was like I was a ghost or something!

Wait.

I quickly put two fingers two my neck, then sighed with relief. My pulse was there, though it was a bit quick. So, I couldn't be dead. Standing, I started to pace my room. Anxiously, I ran my hand through my hair, trying to think calmly. But, as much as I tried to make sense of what was going on, I just couldn't! I stopped in the center of my room and shook my head. "Alright, knock it off. You're being an idiot," I muttered to myself. Maybe I was just imagining things because of stress? Yes...yes that must be it. Stress-induced hallucinations.

Deciding I needed to distract myself, I went ahead and got started on the catch up work for school. I didn't look up from it until Dad got home an hour later. Only then did I leave my room. By then, I had managed to calm myself down completely. I smiled at Dad and gave him a hug, then we sat at the table as he plopped down a bag of take out. Bless him, he'd gone to Nasty Burger.

As we ate, he had me recount my first day of school. Conveniently, I left out the part about the ghosts in the hallway. He seemed happy enough that I had made friends already, though, and only chuckled when I complained about all the work I had. "Oh quit you're whining. Work is good for you. It builds character," he said with amusement. I rolled my eyes at him and went back to my food, then he started to tell me about his first day at work. I raised the hamburger to my lips before it fell through my hands and back onto the table. I glared at my hands for a moment before they went back to normal, though thankfully enough my dad was too busy talking to have noticed. Before, this whole phasing nonsense had been scary. Now it was just getting infuriating. I had almost no control over the stupid thing! And, to make matters worse, it didn't seem like a stress thing. It was all too real now.

My next attempt, at least, was successful. This thing was not going to make me go hungry, that was for sure. I made it through dinner with only a few dropped french fries, but all safely landed on the table. Wasted food would be inexcusable. I went back to my room to get back to work while Dad turned on the T.V. I locked my door again, just in case, then got back to work on my homework. There was a point when I was simply trying to read a passage in my English novel when I happened to glance at my hand. Or, well, where my hand should've been. I accidentally dropped the book, and then my hand reappeared. I cursed, examining my hand. Great, now there was invisibility to worry about, too? How could this possibly get any worse?

After I calmed myself down a bit, I finished off the rest of my homework. It certainly wasn't my best work, but I was too frustrated to concentrate fully. At least it was done. I shoved everything back into my backpack, thankful at least that my biggest textbook was allowed to stay home. I said good night to Dad and got into bed early, hoping that everything would be normal when I woke up again.

Then, of course, I had a dream. I was back on the floating rock, and the, er, "other me" was there with me as well. She was looking awfully smug, and it made me mad. I never thought I'd be this mad at a dream before. "Having fun?" she asked me, smirking. My only answer was to glare at her. With a rather convincing evil cackle, she started to walk around me. I noticed that she was wearing the same clothes that I was, only hers were the opposite color that mine were. There was probably some great metaphor in here somewhere, but wasn't patient enough to find it. "Will you stop appearing in my dreams?" I demanded, crossing my arms. "If you stop dreaming about me, then yeah. That is generally how these things work," she answered, sounding amused. Well, she was certainly helpful, wasn't she?

"You're much slower than I thought you'd be," the girl said, her amused smirk now a frown. "Excuse me?" I asked, feeling quite offended. Did she just call me stupid? Wouldn't that mean she was just calling herself stupid, then, too? "Your powers," she explained. "You aren't handling them as well as I thought you would." My eyes widened slightly, wondering how she knew about the strange occurrences. Well duh, this is a dream, you idiot, I realized. Oh, right. This was all in my head, so of course she knew. "Maybe you just need a little...extra push," she said, suddenly right in front of me. Now, she was grinning, and I did not like it at all. With one hand, she shoved me backwards. I stumbled back, but there was nothing behind me to stumble onto. Nothing but empty space. Yelling, I fell off the rock and woke up, my heart pounding.

Groaning, I got up feeling like I had just fallen off a building. Then, I realized that I practically did. I was in the basement of the apartment building with a pretty good idea of how I had gotten there. Sighing, shoulders slumped, I made the long climb up the stairs to my floor, wondering how I was going to get in. For a few minutes, I stared at the door, contemplating the look on my dad's face if he answered the door and found me outside. An unsavory idea popped into my head, and I had no choice but to try it. Glancing around, I made sure no one was around before I closed my eyes and tried to focus. Hesitantly, I stepped forward, expecting to meet the door. Instead, I passed through it and almost fell into my living room. That actually worked? Really? Shocked, I felt myself return to normal before I crept back to my bedroom. I could hear Dad snoring from his room and let out a small breath of relief. I slipped back into bed and tried to get back to sleep, though no matter how comfortable I got, I'd always end up wide eyed when a flash of my dream came back to me.

Why couldn't the ability to do well on lack of sleep be a superpower?

Morning rolled around with me still trying to get back to sleep. I gave up on it once I heard Dad walk down the hall to the kitchen. I'd just have to get by with some coffee today. Dad raised an eyebrow at me when I trudged into the kitchen and rifled through the cabinets for some cereal. "Didn't get much sleep, eh?" he asked as he waited for the coffee to brew. "You have no idea," I grumbled, pouring myself a bowl before sitting at the table. With my luck these days, I would fall asleep in school, have a nightmare, and wake up in the basement. Well, assuming the school had a basement. I didn't want to think about what would happen if I turned solid while phasing through the ground. My dad sat at the table with me, passing a mug of fresh coffee towards me with all the flavors and stuff I liked already added. "Thanks," I mumbled tiredly. He smiled sympathetically before reaching over and tousling my hair. "You'll readjust, don't worry about it," he assured me.

If only that was the real problem.