Norman walked down the path to the Pink Palace. The environment around him was just wet and grey as the previous days. It was just before noon, as Norman got of bed a little later then he was used to.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't get the experience of last night out of his head. Did it really happen? Was it real? Was it based off of something that happened before? Surly he would have remembered someone like her, right? Right? For now, he decided to put it out of his mind, that is if he could.

He walked up the steps of Coraline's apartment and pressed the doorbell. It didn't take long for someone to open the door. The person to do so was Coraline. She smiled when seeing him.

"So, how are you today, squirt?" asked Coraline.

"Eh, not to bad," he said, "You?"

"Eh, not to bad," she said, imitating what he said.

The two of them couldn't help themselves, as they giggled at each others haggard imitations. Coraline then punched him on the shoulder, as it is her usual greeting.

"Ow," he proclaimed, "I was doing fine until you hit me."

"Sorry, force of habit," she admitted.

"'Force of habit'? You mean you hit everyone you meet?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said, smirking at him. "Now, are you prepared to enter the Psycho House of Jones," she said jokingly, wiggling her fingers about as if she was telling a ghost story.

Norman giggled as he said, "I'm currently living in a falling dust bin, so I think I got this."

The two children entered the house, Norman took off his jacket and boots and they walked down the hall, as Norman looked around. He could see way Coraline said it was a 'Psycho house', as the doors were greenish grey, the walls were a lighter brownish grey and the ugly carpet he was currently walking on was just the same pile shade of grey of the walls. This was the type of house that would be in a 1960's slasher film. All that was missing in this sort of environment was crazy murder who was dressed like a woman and carrying a big butcher knife. Of course, Norman thought it was great sight to behold, because of his enjoyment of various slasher and horror films.

"So, we begin our tour at good ol' dusty hallway," said Coraline, in an mockingly unenthusiastic tone. "You've already met my Dad," she said, pointing to a study with Charlie Jones was sitting in it, typing away at his computer. "The old witch in the kitchen is my Mom," Coraline mentioned, jerking her thumb to the direction of Mel Jones who was emptying a trash can.

"I heard that!" Mel shouted from the kitchen.

"Sorry, Mom!" Coraline shouted back to her mother, while she was trying her best not to laugh. Norman was mockingly shaking his head her, with a smirk on his face.

"You better be!" Mel shouted back.

Coraline went upstairs with Norman following behind her. She led Norman down the hall of the second floor to a bedroom which he can only assume to be hers.

"This is my room," said Coraline, confirming his guess.

"Hm, I figured as much," Norman said.

"Oh? What gave it away?" she asked, with a smile, "Was it the pink coloring?"

"Wha?" said Norman, confused.

"The fact that I'm a girl means my room has to be pink, right?" she said, smirking.

Norman knew he was in trouble, "What?! N-no! That's not what I-"

"Geez! Relax, man," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I've spent enough time with you to know you're not a sexist."

Norman frowned. "Damn right, I not."

Coraline run towards her bed, jumped and landed on her back on the bed, as Norman looked around the room. He walked over to the window to see if he could see his apartment from Coraline's room, which he could.

"You know, you're room isn't that different from my room." he said.

Coraline sat up on her bed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you can see everything from up here," he said, "From my bedroom, you can see the whole back yard."

"Wow," Coraline simply said, unimpressed, "What a life you live."

"Yeah," said Norman, "I do don't I."

His sudden low mood was suddenly cut short when a certain black cat appeared on the other side of the window, making Norman jump.

"Whoa!" Norman shouted, catching Coraline's attention. Once Norman caught his breath, he sighed in relief. "Jeez!"

With her signature smirk, Coraline got off the bed and walked over to the window. "Well, if i ain't the neighbourhood wuss-puss," she said, earning a hiss from the black feline.

"Second time," said Norman, "This is the second freaking time!"

"Second time?" Coraline asked, while opening the window to let the cat in.

"Yeah, he jumped on the window at my place at one in the morning. I nearly jumped out of my skin," he said. He didn't stay grumpy at the cat for long as the cat licked his hand, causing him to stroke the cat with a smile on his face.

"What were you doing up late in the morning? Because mommy's little squirt should't be up that late," she said jokingly, ruffling his hair.

He pushed her hand off his hair, much to her amusement, as he said, "I wasn't up on propose. I just had a bad dream and I woke up at that moment."

"Bad dream?" she asked, "What about?"

"Well, it...," he thought about it for a second and decided that it wasn't really important. It was just a dream... right? "Nah, it's nothing. Just some spooky ghosts and... stuff," he said as he started to wonder around the room, hoping to find something else to talk about.

"Ah, the classic 'wuss scared of scary movies syndrome'," Coraline said in a overly dramatic way.

"Oh yeah, as if," he scoffed, "If I was scared of the movie I watch, I would have stopped watching them."

"First stage: Denial," she said smirking as Norman rolled his eyes.

Norman walked over to the side of her bed and noticed a picture. A picture of two preteens, wearing winter clothes in a snowy environment. Behind them was an old school marquee, with its letters rearranged to spell 'CORALINE, GOOD BYE!'''.

"Hey, who are these guys," said Norman, as he picked up the picture.

Coraline blinked and walked over to Norman, worried that he might drop the picture. "Oh! Um, could you please be careful with that?" she asked as she gently took the picture from him. "These are my friends from back home."

"Oh, sorry," he said.

"Don't worry about it," she said, setting the photo back in it's original spot. "It's just that they're my best friends, back in Pontiac."

"That's in Michigan, right?" Norman asked.

"Yeah," she confirmed.

"Wait, is that the place you were talking about yesterday?" he asked, "Your hometown?"

"Yep," she simply said.

Norman looked back at the picture, "I heard it was snowy there, but not like that."

"It's so up north, it practically is Canada," she said.

Both of them gave a little chuckle at her little joke and then feel silent. Norman noticed Coraline stare at the picture, her smile slowly fading away.

"You miss them, don't you?" Norman asked.

"Did the picture give it away?" she said. "Yeah, I do miss 'em. A lot. But hey, ever since we got better reception out here, I've been able to Skype them."

"Oh, that's good," he said, smiling.

"Damn right, it is," she said, crossing her arms. "Sometimes... I wish they were here, with me."

As they both stared at the picture, the cat jumped on to the bed and sat beside Coraline, rubbing his head against her side. Coraline noticed and smiled, stroking his cheek.

"Hey, it's better to know someone from a far than not knowing them at all," said Norman. Coraline nodded in response. "I don't know what I'd be doing know if it weren't for my friend, Neil." It was then that Norman realised that maybe his hometown wasn't so bad after all.

While talking about themselves some more, Norman and Coraline made their way down stairs. They pasted by Coraline's mother in the kitchen.

"And over to your left, you will see a woman with her eyes glued to her laptop screen," Coraline mockingly said.

"Just because you have friend over doesn't mean your off the hook for that one, young lady," Mel fired back, still not taking her eyes off her laptop as she kept on typing.

As Norman covered his mouth trying not to laugh, Coraline looked back at her mother. "I don't make you clean the dishes when you mock me!" she shouted to her mother.

Mel finally took her eyes off the screen and looked over to her daughter. "And that concerns me how?" she asked with a fake motherly smile, earning a frown from Coraline. She turned back to her laptop and continued typing.

Coraline and Norman walked down the hallway, heading towards the living room. "Now I see where you get it from," Norman said smirking and crossing his arms.

Coraline looked at him with a frown. "You know, the only reason I haven't punched you as of late is because there is a witness."

"No punching people in the house, Coraline," Mel shouted from the kitchen.

"See?" Coraline whispered, shaking her fist at Norman. He flinched and took a few steps back. She chuckled. "Yep, that's what I thought."

Both children entered the living room. Standing in the middle of the room, they observed the area.

"So, yeah. If I had to say, this probably the best room in the house, said Coraline, continuing her unenthusiastic tour guide act. "Not just because..."

As Coraline kept on talking, Norman's eyes ventured around the room. It looked like it needed some redecorating and a good dust. There was a chair, a couch and a coffee table circling around a round rug. There was also a mantlepiece with snow globes on it.

Something caught his eye. Left of the mantlepiece was a cut out square shape with a keyhole on its middle left. It was a door. But what is it for? Where did it lead to? There is one way to find out.

"Hey, Coraline," he said, grabbing her attention, "What's that?" Norman pointed at the small door and Coraline looked at what he had seen-

She seemed to pause for a moment, almost like it was out of a little shock. "Oh, that? It's... just a closed up door," she said waving it off.

"Closed up?" Norman asked.

"Yeah. The owners closed it up when they divided the house," she said, "There's nothing but bricks in there."

"Oh," he simply replied. At first Norman was just going to leave it at that... but the more he stared at it, the more it seemed... familiar. It was weird, because he never saw this door in his life, and yet it was as if he was this door a day ago. Or perhaps... one night ago. "Can we open it?" he asked, with his hand reaching towards the door.

"No!" she shouted, grabbing his hand and yanking it away before it touched the door. Norman, rightfully so, gave Coraline a questionable look due to her sudden outburst. She let go of his hand and cleared her throat. "It's just that... last time I opened that door, there were rats in it," she said, reverting back to her tranquil demeanour.

"Oh," Norman said, understanding her reason for keep the door closed. He then realised something and smirked. "I thought you could handle rats?"

"Oh, I can handle rats," she said crossing her arms, "It's my mom who can't." She then made her way out to the hallway. "Now, come on! Let's go bother my dad."

As Coraline walked down the hall, Norman hesitated for a moment. It seemed very out of character for someone as calm and chill as Coraline to be nervous. It's as almost as if the door scared her. 'Maybe she really is scared of rats,' he thought to himself. He looked back at the door and then followed Coraline out of the room.

After a full day of hanging out with Coraline, heading home and having a decent dinner with his family, he got into his pyjamas and settled into his bed.

He was preparing himself for whatever will come to him in his sleep. If this dream had acred for the past two nights in a row, then a third night might confirm his theory of this being a possible vision. If a near by ghost was trying to make contact with him.

"Alright," he said to himself, "Here goes nothing."

He set his head into his pillow, closed his eyes and dozed off to sleep.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes to find himself in the black void again.

He found himself in front of the door from yesterday night with the key already in the keyhole. He turned the key and entered throw the door and floated in the white void inside.

He looked around to find the mysterious woman, but she was nowhere to be found. He was puzzled. Where is she? Is she somewhere else tonight? The questions going around in his head were then answered due to the voice behind him.

"Hello again, Norman!" the familiar voice said.

Norman nearly jumped out of his skin and turned around to see the mysterious woman from last night.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just trying to make a little joke."

After Norman collected his breathing again, he smiled shyly at the woman. "It's okay. But could you please-"

"Not do that again?" she finished for him. "Ha! Beat ya to it," she laughed, "I've done those types of jokes to a lot of people. Before I died, that is."

Once again, Norman felt sorry for this ghost for her current state. She must have been lonely for so long. However, he was impressed by her upbeat positive attitude. Most of the ghosts he comes across were understandably miserable about being deceased.

"So, all of this... is real?" he asked her, "I isn't just a dream?"

"Of course not," she giggled, "How many people have this type of dream three nights in a row?"

"Well... this sort of thing has happened to me before," he admitted.

"Oh, really?" she asked, earning a nod from Norman. "Tell me about it."

Norman wasn't sure what to say. No ghost, besides his grandmother, had wanted to talk to him about his past troubles before. A mixture of thoughts went through his mind, such as, 'Should I share my secrets with her? I mean, we only just met,' and 'She's so nice and it'd be nice to admit this to another person. A person who doesn't think I'm crazy.' After thinking about it for a few seconds, he decided to confess his recent, and most dangerous, paranormal exploit. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to tell anyone. She was trapped and all alone in this void. "...Well, I'm part of a family who can see ghosts, you see. For generations my ancestors kept my town safe from the ghost of a powerful witch by reading her a story, which kept her asleep. ...About half a year ago, when my uncle died, it was my turn to read the story to her, but things went wrong and her ghost was unleashed among the world. Now, before that happened, I had this terrifying vision of what was to come. As you would imagine, no one believed me until her breakout happened."

Norman couldn't help but notice the woman's expression as she listened to his story. She looked extremely captivated by his tale. "Wow... Wait, what happened after she was released?" she asked.

"Well, I did what no one did before. I want to her and reminded her of what she used to be and told her of the monster that she became. How she became like the people who killed her." Norman looked down in sorrow. "She... she reminded me of... a lot about me back then."

It took a while for the woman to respond as she could tell he was troubled by the memory. "In a bad way, I take it?"

He said nothing and nodded.

The woman tried to find the right words to lift his spirits. "...You know that's kind of a good thing, right?"

Norman lifted his head and looked at her. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, you managed to help this girl in a way you would want to be helped, because you know how it feels. Plus, it helps you with your experiences," she explained. "It's like talking to yourself through a mirror. You realise that you're not alone in this world."

Norman pondered about her explanation. He had to admit, he knew that helping Aggie was helping himself in a way, but in situations such as that, you always look at the negative side of it, even if you don't want to. This woman had just helped him seethe brighter side of the ordeal. A small smile appeared on his face.

"Huh, thank you," he said to her.

The woman giggled. "No, no. Don't thank me. I just hate seeing people being miserable when they don't deserve to be."

Norman was liking this woman spirit more and more. She was just so generous and nice.

"Is there anything else you want to talk about?" she asked him.

"Well..." Norman started, unsure if he should spend the entire night talking about his problems. However, if she was willing to listen, then who was he to say no? "...there are a few things. But before I do, can I ask what your name is?"

The woman gave him a warming smile. "Oh, of course. You can call me Belle."