I glance up at the clock on the wall. It seems like each time the clock ticks, the tock that accompanies it would come later and later. I look down at my nearly blank piece of paper. I don't really get it. What will writing a report about Saturn ever hope to accomplish? I mean, even a paper about the planet would have some usefulness, but that isn't the case. Instead I need to write about a god was said to exist a few thousand years ago. I did kind of bring it on myself though, I guess. I choose Saturn because I heard that he was the god of time and death. I suppose that is what I get for trying to be edgy.

I avert my eyes back towards the clock. I still have five more minutes of sitting in this silent atmosphere. I just want this day to be over with already. I am actually really looking forward to what could potentially happen after school. The results aren't really guaranteed, but it still can be really exciting. It's the thrill of not knowing what could happen, and honestly, a lot of times things don't really follow through. That is to be expected though. Ghosts don't simply magically appear at the drop of the hat. Sometimes they lack energy, or other times they aren't really into what we are doing. Then there are times when they simply aren't there at all.

I think the most important thing is that I can to spend time with my friends Rebekah and Danica. They can be quite entertaining themselves. Danica like to push boundaries, whereas Rebekah worries about the littlest things. Realistically it's kind of interesting they were able to become friends at all.

A sudden noise cuts through the silence. The loud speaker makes it usual irritating noise, before a low monotone voice drowns the static out.

"Attention students. We want to thank you for working hard on your studies. I want to reinforce that your dedication will dictate your future. And with that being said, I would like to bring up our campus's overall cleanliness. I would like to say that compared to other schools, it looks good. Another reason for that is our recent remodel last summer. That aside, there is still definitely room for improvement. The floors and halls would look perfect if we could just be sure to pick up after ourselves. Make sure trash is taken care of properly, and our cans and bottles should be placed in their proper receptacles as well. We can become what other schools strive for. Again, thank you for doing your part."

The transmission ends as quickly as it started. Though truthfully all that message really did was drive me into feeling like I should throw garbage everywhere, but I can't. I have to keep up appearances and all that. It's times like this that make wish that I was born some to other parents, but I guess it can't really be helped. There are worse places out there, I suppose.

A knock echoes through our classroom, and Mrs. Delaper raises her hand, and beckons for the student to enter the classroom. The student makes her way to the middle-aged lady behind the desk, and hands her a folded piece of paper. Mrs. Delaper slowly unfolds the paper and adjusts her glasses. She seems to study it longer that is really necessary. She raises her eyes and looks my way.

"Ms. Nightchase. The principal would like to see you after class. If you would like, you can go now."

I bite down on my lower lip to suppress my annoyance. School is practically over, and it's Friday.

"I understand. I will go ahead and leave now."

I open up my binder and quickly snap in the three or so papers on my desk. Soft laughter begins to fill the room. I faintly here someone make a remark about me being in trouble. The laughter increases slightly in volume. That age old cliché joke really isn't that funny. The edge of my eyebrows attempt to make their way towards my nose. Really now, try to come up with something new. I sling my backpack over my right shoulder and I start walking towards the classroom door. I barely walk a few steps and the final bells rings. Great, I hope this is over quickly.

I make my way down the hall, and I spot my Danica waiting for me. I give her a quick wave with a slight smile. Her big grin makes its way across her face, as she tries to stifle a small giggle.

"Yeah I know. I will be as quick as I can. Wait for me, okay?"

"No problem. I mean, I am not gonna go to your house without you", Danica replies, while still trying to hold back a snicker. I have no issues with sharing a small laugh of my own.

I reach for the door handle of the principal's office. My heart starts to beat harder and more rapidly. In reality it's probably nothing, but even knowing that does nothing to bring comfort to my chest. I pull open the door, only to see my father already sitting in of the chairs in the room. Why is he here? I don’t recall doing something that bad. He turns to me and attempts to give me a comforting smile. He then firmly points to a chair next to his.

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The principal notices my hesitation. He speaks up in a soft voice, as though he is attempting to comfort me.

"Go ahead and take a seat."

I take the only choice I have and sit next to my father. The principal wastes no time speaking up again.

"Mr. Nightchase. I understand you wanted to talk to me about concerning Kadee, correct?"

"That's correct."

I turn to look at my father. What could he possibly need to talk to me about here, of all places? What could I have done that requires his attention at my school. Did I offend one of classmates? Or maybe someone is spreading shit for the fun of it. Well, there is really nothing I can do about it now.

My father turns his head, looks into my eyes. He takes another moment before speaking up again.

"I am not really sure how I should put this." The clock’s hands makes their presence known in the small room as he takes more time to gather his thoughts. "I am concerned about Kadee's mental health."

What does he mean by my mental health? He is the crazy one here. There is absolutely no way anything is wrong with me. I give him a glare. He counters with a stern look on his face, before turning back to the principal.

"I am not sure I used the proper words there, but I understand you have a school counselor here."

My principal leans in, resting his elbows on his desk and interlaces his fingers.

"We have Kara Rose on staff if that is who you mean. It sounds like you heard the rumors about her. We are really lucky to have on staff. She could easily find a job that pays better than the government, but somehow, she ended up here. Actually, I believe she is still in. That aside, can I ask exactly what you mean about Kadee's mental health?"

My father lowers his head before he speaks up.

"I am just a little concerned. I know sixteen is a little young to start worrying about things like schizophrenia, but I think in cases like this, it is better to snip it before it becomes a major issue."

My face begins to show exactly how frustrated I am.

"Mr. Nightchase, can I ask what exactly is causing you to think that Kadee may be developing schizophrenia? No one has brought any such symptoms to my attention. Are you worried about her family history? I had heard that schizophrenia is genetic.”

My father shakes his head.

“As far as I know, we do not have any relatives with schizophrenia. This has more to do with how she acts at home.”

My father lowers his head a bit.

“It’s more like I am concerned. She is at that time in her life. I know that fifteen may be too young to worry about such things as schizophrenia.”

The principal straightens up his back and looks at the ceiling for a brief moment as he attempts to gather his thoughts. He then looks in my direction.

“If it is just about her age, then it doesn’t seem like you should have to worry too much.”

The slightly chubby man stands up and reaches his hand over the desk, thinking that matter was finished. In response my father bit his lip in frustration before his tone got more serious.

“I understand that children will be children. If it was just her age, I wouldn’t be here now. It embarrasses me to say this but, she has been talking to herself in her room.

I abruptly turn to my father before he has a chance to say anything else. I raise my voice in response, but not so loud that one could say that I was yelling.

“We already had this conversation,” I protested. “I am not talking to myself at all. I am trying to talk to spirits.”

My father’s eyebrows squeeze towards the center of face, showing some level of concern as he tries to hide his frustration.

“Yes, we have had this conversation a few times already, and each time I had told you that ghosts do not exist. There is absolutely no proof that they do. Sure, you can tell me that there are photographs, or even videos with audio, but it is so simple to fake that stuff now. Someone can easily download a program like Photoshop and create whatever they want. And as for videos, I can show you any number of movies that would seem impossible.”

My face starts to show its anger and frustration, but he continues before I get a chance to interject.

“If you are genuinely hearing things speak back to you, then perhaps there is something wrong. I want you to talk to the counselor. You haven’t done anything wrong, but I just us to be on the safer side of things.” My father turns back to Mr. O’Brien. “This is enough of a reason so see her, correct?”

Mr. O’Brien attempts to give a comforting smile. “That is why she is here. Although I am sure someone of your stature would have no issues getting a specialist. Not to say that Kara is bad to any degree.”

My father gives back a soft smile. “I could easily do that, but please understand my position. I don’t need my daughter walking into some psychiatrist's office. If someone were to see her, well it would give off the wrong idea. I understand that this school has confidentiality, and that is precisely what I need. I would truly feel more secure if she were to see someone here.

Mr. O'Brien rises to his feet once more. “I understand, Mr. Nightchase. She is actually free this afternoon. You know where to find her don’t you Kadee?”

“Yeah, I do.” I turn to face my father. “I do have plans with my friends today, though. Can we do this another day?”

My father replies with a shake of his head. “No. I would definitely feel better if we started on this right away. Don’t worry, though, I will wait patiently for you to finish with Kara. Don’t rush, I am done with work for the week.”

After he was completely sure the conversation was over, Mr. O'Brien reaches his hand over the desk once more. My father returns the gesture in a firm handshake. Mr. O’Brien then takes a step back, and gives a wave.

“Thank you for coming in today. I hope our help ends up being satisfactory for you.”

My father gives him a smile.

“Same to you. I really appreciate that you were able to see us on such short notice.”