I lay on the cold tile floor. I had lost track of how long it'd been… maybe over a year? Before the accident, all I had thought about was how I was going to control my ghost life and my human life, and what the homework for that night was. Now, all I think about is how long I'll be able to survive like this. The Guys in White are treating me like a lab rat, nearly suffocating me with different kinds of gasses and injecting all sorts of strange chemicals into me every day so that they can conduct the tests. Every time they leave me in the cell to sleep, I pray that I won't wake up strapped to an examination table, or that I at least wake up. That's what it's come to. So what if I risked my life to keep them safe? I'm still a hybrid freak, why should they wait to lock me behind safe, ghost-proof bars, to get me out of the world's way? Because I'm Danny Phantom.

The room was quiet, except Mr. Davis, My grandfather's lawyer, calling out properties and who they go to. After having my grandfather let me in on so much at his old company, I had gotten to know Mr. Davis from all the legal problems the company endured in the beginning.

"One hundred twenty seven acre plot in Costa Rica goes to miss Samantha Cozwell."

I sat there, kinda zoned out, not really paying attention or expecting to hear my name in the will. And hour and a half passed. Then:

"And finally, the Guys in White Ghost Hunting Organization goes to Emilee Parker." My mother scowled upon hearing this. She hated the organization and didn't want to inherit it. No doubt she would have rather received another large plot of land in some exotic place or another. However, my heart leapt.

"Sorry. MISS Emilee Parker." The man corrected.

Miss. But that would mean...

I looked up. Me? I'm fifteen! Did my grandfather really leave me an entire organization? Why would he leave his fifteen year old granddaughter an entire company?

"She can't run the Guys in White!" my mother scolded, a greedy look replacing her icy gaze.

"It's in the will," Mr. Davis said irritably, "and it's legal. Guys in White goes to Miss Emilee Dale Parker." He gave me a wink.

"Sorry, Mrs. Parker. Unless, of course, Ms. Parker doesn't want the company."

My mother scoffed. "Of course she doesn't. She's not ready for that responsibility, yet!"

I frowned. "Of course I want the company."

I wasn't going to let her ruin that, too.

Mom lit a cigarette and got up, strutting out of the room in her designer stilettos, taking a long drag and leaving a trail of smoke behind her and out the door.

Mr. Erik (Mom's fifth husband.) and I left, flagging down a taxi because mom took the car home without us, heading back to what he called our "Chicago Mansion."

The Guys in White base was out of state. I was to head to Amity Park tomorrow.

"We WHAT?" I asked.

"We got a call from Ced's lawyer. New company owner is coming tonight."

"Not his daughter. PLEASE, not her." I whined under my breath.

"Don't know if it's her or not, K."

"Hope it's not," I said, pouring coffee.

"How's it going with Phantom?" the agent asked.

I shrugged. Same it'd been going since he got here. "He's still not talking. But the new chip's almost finished, so he won't be giving us any problems."

"How're we going to get it in him?"

"We'll just let it attach itself to him. He'll be sleeping, anyway." I said, nonchalantly. If M ever used his head, it'd be a miracle.

"He'll be murderous afterwards, don't'cha think?"

"So what?" I snapped, "We'll already have the chip in him."

"I guess. You really think it'll work?"

"Hell yeah." I said, leaving the break room, the manila folder for the chip files tucked safely in the crook of my arm.

So. Someone tell me: Do you think it's too… over-the-top-coincidental to steer clear of Mary-Sue land?

God, I wrote this in eighth grade… I hope I can fix it.