Splitting Images

At school, Danny had been deliberately not drawing much attention to himself for a long time. But after what happened in the Portal, he tried especially hard to lay low. He remained silent in response to most of the attempts to tease himself verbally. He'd learned to pretend that he just don't hear other people's words. In his head and mind, everything that was not his first and last name, pronounced correctly, began to automatically turn into background noise, which was easier to ignore. He sincerely wanted to get lost in the crowd and not cause any more problems for himself or his parents. Every time his fingers touched the old scar above his eyebrow, Danny thought back to the day he got it. The fight was too noticeable, and not a simple showdown after school without prying eyes, which in a good scenario no one would even pay attention to. Then they not only brought his parents and Dash to school, but also the doctors because both participants in the brawl did not remain whole. When he was very young, Fenton had three stitches on his face, and Desh had a little less than a dozen stitches on his leg near the knee. A little more and quebec's career in sports would have ended much earlier than everyone had expected. At that time, for the first time in his life, Danny lied even more than he expected, constantly repeating that it was an accident. Although in fact, he knew where, how and with what he needed to hit in order to make it as painful as possible. He always knew that, better than any of his classmates. Then his mother scolded him quite a lot. She threatened to stop practicing martial arts with him, the only purpose of which is to defend and defend. He tried to object at first, saying that he did not start the fight, but in that situation, the value of the victims was different, and the severity of the injuries was not at all in favor of Fenton. He was still fourteen at the time. Even without that, the nerves were giving out from the endless emotional swings that the teenager arranged for himself. And what had happened in the portal had completely unsettled him. The world, which had seemed like a madhouse before, was abruptly filled with gloomy shadows and moaning spirits that began to annoy and haunt him whenever they realized that he saw them. And after he was in the hospital, the visits of the guardianship services resumed, on which he spent too much effort, pretending to be normal not only for himself but also for his father, whose next invention started making noise at the wrong time, or even went out of order and could even catch fire. The fifteenth birthday was still a little over two months away, there was snow outside, and the school corridors were stuffy because the batteries were too hot, it was disgusting, and there was a strange smell from a mixture of bleach, which was washed floors in the evenings, sweat, and some unidentifiable stuff which was added to chips. He wanted to sleep very much, because at night he was not allowed to sleep by the whispering shadows outside the window that dragged him from the very city crematorium. Annoying, clingy, and boring, he had to chase them away from his house half the night just so that his parents' sensors wouldn't work. He wasn't feeling his best that day anyway, so Dash decided to push him again. Accidentally, or on purpose, Dash shoved him at an open locker so that the teenager dropped a cup of coffee from his hands. The spilled drink was a small thing. Minor stuff that normally Danny wouldn't even pay attention to. But not that day. He stared at the coffee spreading on the floor for what seemed like an eternity, at the splashes on his favorite T-shirt and jeans. A textbook with flooded pages, which the school library will have to pay for damage. And then he snapped. After all this time, he responded to the football player with aggression again, although he did not even remember what Dash had said to him, which brought him to the boiling point. But it came down to a showdown again, during which the door of Fenton's locker was torn off its hinges. There was another debriefing in Principal Ishiyama's office: "This lunatic just snapped out of nowhere!" " Because of you, I ended up covered in coffee, and then you tried to push me into the locker altogether!" It was lucky that Ishiyama was clearly in a good mood and decided to postpone the conversation with her parents for later. To date, both troublemakers have been punished by cleaning up after school while adults figure out who is really to blame. And it was decided to give Danny a new locker at least for the duration of the renovation. The infamous locker 724 was usually not assigned to anyone at school and remained empty. Everyone knew the legend of the Sidney Shooter, including the teachers, and they didn't give this locker to anyone because of superstition. But this case was an extreme measure, which was rather out of desperation, because there simply were no other available places. However, the keys to the locker, issued by the headmistress, was accompanied by a rather atypical note stating that no items currently inside the locker should be moved in any way, much less taken outside the educational institution. Because it was all considered the property of the school. Danny then shrugged his shoulders and wondered more how he would place textbooks in the locker, which was already occupied by something, but it turned out that the only thing inside was a rather impressive-sized mirror in a simple copper frame, which occupied most of the back wall. After serving his part of the sentence, Danny stayed a little longer after school to put his new locker in order. It was covered with dust from the inside, overgrown with cobwebs, some kind of old dirt and something like ashes. It seems that they used to keep cigarettes here, some of which, apparently, were extinguished against the door on the inside and a little against the back wall. These marks were the hardest to wipe off, but during the cleaning Fenton discovered that there was something strange under them. They look like scratches. After measuring them with his palm, the teenager decided that these could be nail marks on old paint. A small torn piece of broken nail, which he noticed lying at the farthest wall, between the top shelf and the side, indirectly confirmed his guess. The boy shuddered a little at the discovery. Given the part of the Poindexter legend he knew, it all looked even more creepy, but he decided to put this old junk in order to the end, without abandoning the case halfway. Carefully removing the mirror from the wall, Danny began to carefully wash it first, trying not to leave streaks on the glass. A small commemorative inscription “With love from California” was engraved on the back of the frame. It wasn't particularly clear to whom or from whom this message was addressed, but Danny quite naturally decided that the little thing was very valuable to someone at one time. But what made it even stranger was that she was left at school instead of being picked up after graduation. After finishing dusting off the old and already fairly loose glass, which was covered with small dark spots and reflected everything as if slightly blurred, Danny began to clean the last back wall of the cabinet from traces of ash before returning the mirror to its rightful place. He didn't know then that the items in locker seven hundred and twenty-four weren't even allowed NOT to move around for a reason.

***

The next day at school, Danny didn't immediately realize that something was wrong. He was pushed, he spilled drinks and stumbled, and from time to time his feet began to sink through the floor, sinking into it as if in quicksand. Situations that have become commonplace for him over the past month after his discharge from the hospital. He tried to control everything and not show that he couldn't even handle himself in front of his friends, but by lunchtime it had become too difficult. Tripping over someone else's foot, he fell to the floor, spilling the entire contents of the tray onto the floor and actually going without lunch. The feeling of his own worthlessness made him want to cry, but after catching his breath a little, Danny suddenly realized that no one was paying attention to him. No one laughed at his fall, or took a picture to post in a school group or anywhere else. Everyone was just passing by, skirting it in a small arc. Ignored and overlooked, just like Tucker and Sam. The friends just went on to the table and sat down to lunch, leaving him essentially just sitting on the floor surrounded by spilled soup and fried potatoes scattered in all directions. It was then that he realized that there was something wrong with everyone around him, even if he couldn't quite articulate what it was. The world, as it seemed to him then, began to lose its bright colors, becoming a pale fake of reality before his eyes. It was as if he was being pulled into some other parallel reality. For a minute, or maybe a little more, he just fell out, looking at the school cafeteria as if from the side, until he heard Sam's worried call. Gotessa finally noticed his absence and came over to help him up. Then the world began to become normal and familiar again, but the feeling of falling into the unknown did not go away. It was as if he was swimming in a lake and, catching his foot on something, he was drowning, not even imagining how he could untie an unbearable weight from himself, more like a cold tentacle of a dark water inhabitant. And after lunch, the smell of cigarettes appeared. It was weak at first, but it was getting stronger and stronger, as if its owner was slowly approaching it from an unknown direction. In chemistry class, his hand became intangible and the tube of acid fell to the floor, starting to react with a nasty hiss with some substance remaining in the seam of the tile. And just at that moment, Mr. Lancer was supposed to come into their classroom to check on his “favorites.” — Mr. Fenton, is it really happening again? ― the balding teacher said with a sigh. His face reflected nothing but endless boredom. ― Over the past month, you have been noticed damaging more than thirty items on the school's property list. And that's without taking into account your old locker. I'm afraid we should talk to your father first. Danny really didn't like the fact that Lancer emphasized the word “father.” Of the two parents, he personally would, even in the worst case scenario, still prefer his mother over father. But of course, he didn't say anything to the teacher, it would only make the situation worse. Behind the small glass window of the chemistry room door, the teenager noticed a strange black-and-white silhouette at that moment. Due to the turbidity of the glass, it was impossible to see details or facial features, but its gray color was noticeable to the unarmed eye. Danny felt like he was being watched from behind that door. He could feel someone else's gaze on his skin. However, when Lancer left the classroom, that silhouette disappeared. It was as if he had never existed. For the first time, a small cloud of cold steam escaped from his lips, settling on the glass tube left on the table and causing the flame of the alcohol burner to crackle dangerously. At that moment, the teenager had no doubts. Something otherworldly really haunted him.

***

The second day began with a disregard that Danny couldn't immediately comprehend. The failures of yesterday continued, but now he was completely ignored, as well as for yesterday's couple of minutes in the dining room. But it was already going on constantly and without any interruption. The teenager began to fully understand that he was being sucked into some kind of surreal nightmare in which the only thing left for him was to look at the world from the outside. The ghost began to appear more often. In the periphery of his vision, Fenton saw a strange black-and-white silhouette, and the stench of cigarette smog became much more palpable and nauseating. It was as if someone was smoking right behind him, occasionally releasing clouds of smoke. His gut began to react to the poltergeist nearby much more actively than yesterday, and it was like a strange hiccup, during which a cloud of steam escapes from his mouth and disturbs the sensitive tooth enamel with an otherworldly chill. But from time to time, the teenager still managed to pull himself out of this veil of frightening disregard. When Jack Fenton dropped by the school after a call from Lenser, the tall man initially just walked past his own son and went straight to the classroom. Danny followed them rather out of habit, because no one called him and even the office door was almost closed in his face. Back then, in this colorless environment, next to his father in an orange jumpsuit, the teenager felt very tiny. Of course, he was probably much shorter in those years, but for some reason, this difference between his own size and his massive father, who was wearing bright protective clothing that stood out against the background, was especially noticeable at that moment. Standing in Mr. Lerser's pale office next to him, he felt incredibly small. It seemed that the man could split him into atoms at any moment, even without any anti-ghost weapons. — Your son has been getting too distracted, short―tempered, and disorganized lately, — Lancer said at the time. ― This creates obvious problems for him personally, not only in his studies, but also in his interactions with his peers. Do you have any suggestions why this might happen to your son? — None at the moment, — Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ― But I assure you that we will solve the problem at home... — Mr. Fenton, I have learned that after your son's week―long absence due to hospitalization, the relevant authorities visited you, — Lancer spoke to his father in such a stern tone, as if he were one of the students of the school, and not an adult. It seemed so strange to Danny that it even brought him out of his stupor for a while. ― I didn't want to talk to you so that something would happen to one of my students again that would send him to the hospital. ― What are you implying? — Jack immediately began to sound much more intimidating. It seems that he reacted even too vividly to the words of the head teacher than he should have. Lenser even changed his face for a second, giving the man an appraising look and perhaps realizing that the conversation could clearly go wrong. Danny could literally feel the tension in the office, where he felt invisible. Or maybe he really was at that moment in time. Until now, the teenager himself has not been able to determine this for sure for himself, because at that time he still had little control over his new abilities and could from time to time become partially or completely invisible against his will. — Non, Mr. Fenton ― Lancer smiled, but it was the most fake and forced smile Danny had ever seen at that point in time. It looked like Lancer had already gotten at least some of what he wanted out of this conversation. ― It's just that sometimes undesirable behavior originates from the child's immediate environment. Perhaps there are those in your family's inner circle or among his friends who could have a bad influence on him. Such a bad company can set not only a bad example, but also a danger if your son does not demonstrate acceptable behavior in this team. And I would absolutely not want to put my student in unnecessary danger. In the past, the teenager had seen and heard a lot of rather veiled conversations between adults, which they began to conduct every time they did not want to start a conflict over words. Small allegories, hints, veiled accusations of something ― this was not the trick of everyone, but only those who wanted to save face. It always looked like a cross between a verbal duel and a game of chess, where, with the worst outcome, both sides played this social game as gently as possible and without a single hint of sincerity. — Unless it's some girl he's friends with. — Obsessed with death and everything dark. But to be honest, I didn't notice any strange behavior behind her, — Jack seemed to be reasoning calmly. But there was something in his words that Danny's brain was hooked on. Did he play too? Or was it sincere? ― There may also be relatives on the wife's side. They're a bad influence on he, too, frankly. “From the wife's side? Is he talking about Aunt Alice?" Danny thought in disbelief. Yes, he knew perfectly well that his aunt and father weren't on the best of terms and might even fight from time to time, but it never got to the point where it was between him and Dash. The teenager could not believe that his father was now blaming his bad behavior not even on himself, which would be logical, but on a person with whom he communicated personally once a year at best. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to his beloved aunt, who let them into her house for a short vacation after going camping with her mother. Who sat with him and Jess for most of the summer when they were little. Who took care of them and never did anything wrong. This injustice restored Danny's sense of reality. The world began to become normal again, to take on color, not just contrast. A strange feeling appeared in the center of his chest, as if an abnormal source of energy was growing inside him, giving him a boost of strength to do something that he usually did not do before. ― I haven't talked to Aunt Alice since Christmas, and I haven't seen her personally since last spring. Don't slander her, — he objected. He interrupted his father and said something against him. At that moment, it was as if someone had noticed him. His father twitched slightly, as if he really hadn't seen him until he spoke up. He seemed like an ordinary person again. Yes, he is quite large and tall, but ordinary, and not at all a giant who can kill him with one hand. The feeling of fear and helplessness in front of his parent, which he felt just a minute ago, seemed to disappear along with the stench of cigarette smoke, which also receded for some strange reason. Lancer also seemed a little surprised that the teenager ended up in the same room with them, but he barely showed it. Just to look much more professional and maybe have some advantage over Jack. — Well, I think we should continue this conversation in private, Mr. Fenton, ― the teacher began calmly, straightening his tie. — And you, young man, should hurry to class. You have biology, if I remember correctly, and important lab work today. Try to be more careful with the equipment today. He went to class, leaving the teacher and his father alone, although this was the first time when he sincerely did not want to. While people ignored him because of strange curse and thought he wasn't in the room, the adults were talking about something else entirely. About those things that Danny didn't hear from adults when talking when he was present with them personally. It gave him a lot of new information. Too much. His head started spinning even before he managed to get to the biology room and sat down at the table in front of the frog that was to be dissected. He had something to think about and analyze besides adult behavior. The poltergeist at school was clearly reacting to his own behavior. It was his approach that made the world look faded and black and white, but the fact that he didn't stop talking in his office back then clearly affected him, forcing him to step back for a short time for some reason. Now, in biology class, in front of the dissected amphibian, the teenager began to feel the anomaly approaching again. The smell of cigarette smoke and the subdued colors returned. This time, the teenager did not give free rein to his own emotions, firmly deciding that he should not be allowed to be dragged into this alien abnormal something. It's just a pity the ghost had other plans. Sidney appeared next to him near the middle of the laboratory work, when the frog was already fully opened, and the internal organs were removed from its body and meticulously laid out side by side for a more detailed sketch. He just casually sat down at the same table with him, as if taking advantage of the fact that he didn't have a partner this time. Danny studiously ignored him, as he had done before with the shadows from the crematorium or the local cemetery, but the creepy and much more human appearance was frankly harder to ignore than the shapeless something. Grey skin. Gray clothes. Gray eyes. It was as if he had stepped out of an old photograph from Danny's great-grandmother's school yearbook, which was taken before the invention of color printing. Thick glasses were glued on the bridge of his nose with duct tape, and his clothes were neat and clean in appearance... but it's a smell. Cigarette smoke would come out of the ghost's mouth with every “breath," if he was really still breathing. ― Stop playing the comedy, you can see me perfectly, ― The teenager almost dropped the scalpel in surprise. The ghost's voice was smoky and horribly hoarse. It was giving his the creeps. ― I came to you for a reason, but also not because you did something wrong. Bullies usually infuriate me, but you don't infuriate, but rather cause pity. Danny didn't answer. He tried to ignore the ghost. Even taking into account the fact that no one paid attention to him, he did not plan to say anything. It certainly wasn't good for him right now. Besides, it was not clear for sure what the ghost was planning to do, which absolutely no one in the class would see at close range until Sid himself wanted it. Unlike Danny himself, this guy had clearly achieved one hundred percent of his invisibility. ― However, you don't have to answer, — Sid exhaled a cloud of acrid smoke onto the table, forcing the teenager to turn to the window and cover his mouth with his hand so as not to cough. No one else in the class reacted to this madness, further convincing the teenager that no one else was seeing Poindexter. There was a view of the school parking lot outside the window. Mr. Lenser and his father were standing there by a large SUV, apparently continuing to talk about something. For some reason, Danny held their gaze longer than he wanted to. Even when the smoke cleared, he continued to stare out the window. ― You know, sometimes problems are created by those who, in theory, should protect you from these very problems. They first deprive you of everything, cut off all ties with your family, force you to fight with your friends, burn all bridges, and they continue to pretend to be a good guy. They're doing everything they can to keep you alone with them. After all, it would be more convenient to dissect you without witnesses. — Sid sounded calm and even gentle, as much as his smoky, hoarse voice would allow. ― And the only way not to lose your future because of them is to get rid of them first. I can help you with that tomorrow, after the last call. After all, you don't want to take that frog's place on your dad's desk one day, do you? Turning back, Danny found the chair next to him empty. Only a strange little pile of ashes on the floor under his desk was a small indication that everything he saw was happening in reality, and was not a figment of his imagination. It dawned on Danny at that moment. Suddenly, Sid's entire behavior and the strangeness of his curse, which had two outcomes, became very clear. He was absolutely sure that he would find confirmation of his theory in the police archives if he looked there again.

***

Waiting for classes to end at the end of the third day was even easier than Danny had expected. He was no longer haunted by failure or simple disregard, which in most cases looked like an accident. Something else was waiting for him today. Much more creepy, but at the same time strangely soothing. He became truly invisible as soon as he entered the school. His friends didn't approach him or even address him once all day, even though Danny was standing right behind them most of the time. They continued to discuss the lesson they had just had and asked, “Have you seen Danny today?". Attempts to talk to them or touch them did not lead to anything. They did not hear his voice, did not feel his touch, and even when the teenager stood right in front of them, he was bypassed without touching even the edge of his clothes. They didn't go through, as was usually the case with a Ghost, but rather bypassed it, as if it were an anomaly that no one could notice. He tried to talk to them in class, but even the teacher couldn't hear his voice. He tried to leave them a note, but each time a piece of paper or a chalk inscription on a blackboard was destroyed before it could be noticed by anyone who could understand its meaning. It was strange and creepy to admit that at that point in time it didn't even really scare him. It was a wild and crazy feeling, which was more like a sense of relief, because if no one paid attention to him today because of the curse, then it would be much easier to pull off what he was planning. After all, he might not even appear in all lessons if necessary, no one would notice his absence anyway. But he was curious about one thing. It was insignificant at the moment, but he just wanted to make sure that he could somehow contact his friends and warn them what to do, if something goes wrong. And that's why Fenton dialed Tucker's number then. Called him standing right behind his back, completely unnoticed by anyone because of the curse. Surprisingly, the tech guy's cell phone rang quite quickly and Foley picked up the phone: ― Danny! Finally! — He was talking too loudly, and Sam was interrupting him, demanding to turn on the speakerphone. ― We already thought that something had happened to you because of that damn locker. Where are you? — I'm right behind you, ― the teenager replied calmly, carefully watching his friends turn around standing in an empty hallway, but looking somewhere through him. — It's not funny, ― Sam said indignantly. ― Show yourself and stop playing these games. — I can't. It's not me who's invisible, it's Sidney who made me this way, — Danny watched his friends' faces turn pale, and their panicked eyes scanned the hallway in search of an invisible friend. ― I shouted at you, but you didn't hear. I even tried to touch you, but it didn't work either. I don't know what exactly is going on, but at least I was able to call you. ― He sincerely did not understand exactly how the curse worked, and for this reason, he could only make guesses that did not want to be formulated into a full-fledged thought. For perhaps the first time in his life, Danny regretted a little that he hadn't spent as much time on literature and vocabulary expansion as he should have, according to Lenser's instructions. Perhaps this way he would be able to describe more precisely what is happening to him. ― Friend, if this is a joke, it's not funny at all, — Tucker's breaking voice abruptly became hoarse from nervous tension. ― You say you're in the hallway, but we can't see you. You say it's because of Sid, but you're not a bully. Is it really because of the locker? — I'm afraid so, ― Danny sighed. ― At the moment, I'm only sure that Sid wants to talk to me, not destroy me. I think I know how to get out, but if I don't manage to come home to you before midnight in the evening after school... — Danny paused. That's what he wanted. What he needed to ask for was the very extreme he had hoped to never resort to in his life. ― You will need to tell my mom about everything. Just her, not to my dad okay? ― But we could help you now, — Sam eagerly snatched the phone from Tucker's hands, hoping that the proximity of the speaker might help her in some way. ― I don't think that's possible. Go to the last lesson and wait for me, I'll... ― Danny's last words were drowned out by the bell for the last lesson. The connection was abruptly cut off and Tucker's phone went silent. No beeps, no noise, nothing. Just silence. At least he gave them everything he wanted while he had the chance. Watching friends fussing uselessly, grabbing the air with their hands in an attempt to touch an invisible friend was almost painful. Their venture was clearly not going to be successful, and he still had things to do before the last call. Danny settled down in the assembly hall, sitting in the front row, and waited, trying to collect his thoughts. If he understood everything correctly, then he would need to be at least convincing enough, and that also meant being eloquent. He always had problems with the latter: he didn't have much experience dealing with peers, and he didn't have any special negotiation skills. All Danny could do was lie tolerably well, having thoroughly trained this skill on social services and police officers. But he wasn't friends with the truth at all. Surprisingly, everything that was the absolute truth, which Danny was one hundred percent sure of, sounded like a lie from his mouth: implausible, unconvincing and strange. They always stopped believing him when he was telling the truth for some reason. But that day, he needed to change it somehow. He honestly didn't want to fight Sidney. Not after he read his file. Danny saw Sidney's house, mountains of alcohol bottles and his mother's body hugging a bottle of poison. Jack always told him that ghosts were just parasites. That they stick to people, steal their identities, and just pretend to be real. For the hunter, there was not a single piece of evidence that ghosts could feel physical or emotional pain. Jack didn't believe that they could think rationally or show any complicated feelings, because all they were doing was trying to get closer to future victims in order to harm them without any motive. Just because ghosts are monsters. But at some point, the teenager began to doubt this, and it was even difficult to say exactly when. Was there a beginning of these doubts at the time of the accident? In the hospital, when did he first see the ghost of a woman who was trying to comfort her husband and son, who were crying next to her closed room and couldn't see her at close range? Or maybe when a small green blob flew out of the Portal, looking like a clot of green jelly and at the same time behaving like a small timid animal, cautiously looking around in the laboratory and sniffing Danny's hands with that strange hole that supposedly replaced his nose? He didn't know the exact answer, but he still remembered how the creature began to weaken rapidly and melt in his hands, like a beached jellyfish. It should have been assumed that out of their habitat in the Ghost Zone, simple creatures like blots die quickly. Like fish without water. Then Danny returned the poor guy to the portal, fearfully throwing him into the funnel, afraid to get closer to this green whirlpool of otherworldly energy. But he understood that his father was clearly wrong about something, and for a very, very long time. The last bell from class sounded muffled. Outside the doors of the auditorium, Danny could hear the tramp of schoolchildren running home and their cheerful shouting and laughter. It was just another reminder that he had to succeed. That he must cope and get rid of this curse in order to become a part of the world of living ordinary people again to the fullest. He tightened his grip on the video projector remote control, feeling his palms start to sweat. Some time after the last noise subsided, the corridors of the school plunged into darkness. The strange thing was that the lights in the hallway didn't go out along with the assembly hall lights, but he didn't have to guess for a long time about the reasons. Soon, Phantom heard footsteps coming from the entrance. The clatter of tiny heels of old-fashioned men's shoes, the rustle of fabric and the stench of cigarette smoke. — I didn't expect to find you here, ― the poltergeist's hoarse voice sounded calm and even polite. — Do you mind if I sit down? ― Sidney was incredibly polite for someone who killed some of his classmates at the beginning of the last century. That alone caused extremely mixed feelings. Danny nodded silently, watching Poindexter settle into the next chair across the aisle. The teenager stared absently at the bright orange smoldering tip of the cigarette that Sid was holding in his teeth and couldn't understand why it was so different. Why does this particular little dot have at least some color? ― So, have you thought about what I said to you yesterday? — Sidney was sitting facing him sternly, one leg crossed over the other, and leaning his elbow on the back of the chair. — I can really help you, even if I can't leave the school ground. But that's not such a big problem, — the poltergeist blew a smoke ring into the air. ― I'm afraid that this big guy won't wait, nor will he give you at least some kind of head start. Hunters don't give odds to prey. ― You know, you're right, ― Danny followed the flight of a round ring of smoke, which at some point began to remind him of a spiraling Portal. ― They won't give me a head start, but that's okay. I'm used to my father not giving me any special favors, you know. But he's not the only one in my family. Danny pressed a couple of buttons on the remote control, turning on the auditorium projector. A picture of a cozy country house of Aunt Alice appeared on the big screen, which Danny and his mother hugged. It was made last year after the traditional pre-summer hike that they and their mother had arranged. The end point, as always, was the village of Split, which was not even on the maps. It is quiet, calm and cozy in its own way, despite all the difficulties of rural life and periodic interruptions in the supply of fresh water. — You know, my father always said that ghosts are the embodiment of pure evil, who do bad things just to do bad things, — the teenager began, while Sid suddenly carefully examined a photo taken on the veranda of a wooden rustic house next to the forest. ― But I'm sure you don't want to hurt me. You really want to help, protect, and all that. In my own way and in ways that I cannot agree to. But I have real people I can turn to if things get too much... — Danny paused for a moment, searching for the right word. — Not in my favor. I have a lot of ways to solve problems, and I have friends and family besides Jack. I have more than the only option you want to offer me. It was the longest speech of his life, and even in lectures, Fenton had never spoken as long and thoughtfully as he did that night with Sydney. His throat was dry with excitement, and his fingertips began to tremble slightly, forcing the teenager to grip the remote control with both hands again so that this disgrace would not be so noticeable from the outside. — Probably the only one who didn't have any options out of the two of us is you, — Danny's words made the poltergeist look from the screen to him. His gray eyes looked incredibly big and sad behind the lenses of his glasses. ― And I'm sorry for that. Sidney was silent for a long time, looking at the photo again. He looked at the details so intently and diligently that he even pushed his glasses up on his forehead, apparently more necessary for him to better see the objects next to him. At some point, it began to seem to the Phantom that the poltergeist was not taking his eyes off the image displayed on the projector screen simply because it reminded him of something. And he sincerely hoped that it was something at least a little bit good. — They call me the curse of the Casper, but I always meant well, — Sid muttered. ― I wanted to help. — I believe you, ― Danny nodded. —But you need more help for yourself.