Danny stared down at the letter in his shaking hands. It was just a letter. White and rectangular, his name typed neatly at the center, a blue logo positioned with the return address.

It was just a letter, but it was so much more.

He'd worked tirelessly to even qualify for the space program. He was able to pick his grades up and join the High School's Astronomy Club.

Every day was wake up, get ready, go to school, fight some ghosts, stay after school to figure out what he missed, fight more ghosts, show up a little late to the Astronomy Club meeting, fight ghosts, go home, fight ghosts, do homework, fight ghosts, eat dinner, do homework, fight ghosts, study, fish ghosts, get some sleep, fight ghosts, and then the cycle started over again.

He pulled all of his grades up in the first month of his new found motivation. He was diagnosed with insomnia, but it was worth it to him. Good grades meant Space Program, which meant astronaut.

There was no way he couldn't get in. He'd worked too hard, and for too long for it.

His fingers clumsily ripped open the flap and pulled out the paper.

Dear Mr. Fenton,

We regret to inform you that, while you passed all of your examinations and were a perfect candidate for the Space Program, your physical examinations were not permissible. Our scientists found a trace of a substance known as 'ectoplasm' in your blood, along with many other irregularities. Please consider going to a hospital.

With best regards, Gen. C.F. Bolden

Danny felt the world around him collapse.

He crumbled, sinking to the floor and letting out an anguished cry.

He just wanted to go to space.