Karen Manson is a normal girl; that is, up until her fourteenth birthday. Contains OC's. R&R no flames please!

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. I never have, I never will. Get over it.

Chapter Three: "Through" Forbidden Territory

Time passed. Eighth grade graduation came and went. Sharon and Mimi were going to Colorado to visit their aunt and uncle, so I wouldn't be able to hang out with them until July. Mom had to work, and often she would have to stay until around ten. I had summer reading to do, but I wound up finishing it within about a week and a half.

So that's how I ended up at home one day, alone in the house and bored out of my mind.

I had tried rereading Life of Pi earlier in the day but had soon learned that it was not a book that can be reread. There was nothing on TV and there were no DVDs or videos that I felt like watching, so there I was, lying on the couch with nothing to do.

Nothing else unusual had happened to me since the incident with my arm. I had, however, started taking extra precautions to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. I now watched my feet as I walked to make sure I didn't go through the floor; I didn't sit too hard on chairs so that I wouldn't risk sliding through and fall ass-first onto the floor or through to the floor beneath; and I checked my hand every chance I got to be sure whatever I was holding didn't slide through my fingers. It annoyed me to no end to remember to do it, but then I remembered the blank space where my arm should have been. Upon remembering, I looked at my arm for what must have been the twenty-two trillionth time since that day in the nurse's office, just to make certain that it was still there (it was).

All these thoughts ran around in my head, but the fan suddenly went out, and no air circulated around the living room. I whined what would probably qualify as the loudest whine in the history of the planet.

I hate the heat, absolutely hate it. I have a complete intolerance for heat, and if I get too hot, I start to sweat like crazy and I can't breathe. I once actually fainted during a final exam because the air conditioning wasn't working (they let me retake the final later). And if the air wasn't going around the living room...I had to get out of there fast.

I went into the kitchen, but it was never very cool in there even without the air blowing out. I couldn't go into the bathroom or my bedroom; both were too cramped with all my stuff. I didn't know what to do.

Then the answer came to me: Mom's bedroom.

Mom's bedroom was always, always strictly off-limits. Even when I was little and a friend came over to play, I would have to say to them, "We can't go into Mommy's room 'cause she needs her privacy." So normally, I would be skinned alive if I ever were to go in there, but A) it was the only room in the house with a ceiling fan, and B) Mom wasn't home, so she couldn't kick me out. Besides, this was an emergency situation. I decided to take my chances and went upstairs.

I walked up to the door that led to Mom's bedroom. As I reached out my hand to grab the door handle, I froze. What if I get caught? I wondered. What'll happen if she finds me in there? But the part of my brain desperate for cold overtook the logical part of my brain, and I took the door handle.

The door was locked. I realized this just as I remembered that every time Mom came into her bedroom, she always used some sort of weird-looking key to let herself in.

"Shit, Mom!" I yelled out loud. I banged my fist on the wall, then leaned against it and slid down onto the floor. I was going to die from the heat, I knew I was. I felt the sweat dripping from my forehead and neck onto my shirt. What am I gonna do? I screamed mentally. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

Then I had a thought. I looked at my right arm (still there) and thought, This is an emergency situation. Living comes first, fear comes second. If my arm can pass through things...maybe I can too.

I stood up. I faced the door to Mom's bedroom and stared at it. I reached my arm out so that my palm was on the door. I closed my eyes. Concentrate, I told myself, suddenly feeling like I was in a bad kung-fu movie. Just push...you'll go through...

I felt my arm pushing forward. I opened my eyes and saw it passing through the door. I concentrated, and then started walking...

The next thing I knew, I was in Mom's bedroom.

I looked towards the door behind me, then at my body. I was there, intact. But I had passed through the door. I had gone through the door. I was as frightened as I was amazed. Could I do it again?

I didn't care. My sights were on the ceiling fan. I went over towards it and turned it on. A second later, I felt the cold air circulating around the room. I placed myself underneath, and I felt like myself again. There. I was cool again. Mission accomplished.

But I was just so tired. I went over to the bed and flopped down on it. I sighed and lay there for a while. Eventually I turned my head and looked at my surroundings. So this is Mom's bedroom, I thought. It was nice, nicer than mine, actually. The sheets of the bed were black and the comforter was a true red. The walls were painted some weird shade of purple; lavender, I think. There were a few candles on the dresser. She had said once that she was a Goth in high school...

Then my eyes fell on the cabinet. It was a dark brown, placed on the floor next to the closet. I had seen it before: it used to be in the living room (locked, of course), but when I had asked about it, she had just turned away and said, "It's private. I have private things in there." She put it in her room the next day.

I was feeling daring enough, what with getting through the door and all. I got off the bed and walked towards it. I kneeled down and looked at it. The rational part of my brain screamed, What the hell are you doing? Get out of here NOW! But reason and I were not seeing eye to eye today. I made my arm go invisible and reached into the cabinet. I felt around for anything inside. Sure enough, something was in there that felt like a book. I grabbed hold of it and took my arm out. When my arm and the item came back into focus, I stared at what I was holding.

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Sorry I haven't updated in forever; I would have updated like a week ago, but the Documents thing wasn't working. I'm gonna try to keep the updates more consistent, I promise. Hope you like this chapter! Review, but please no flames!