You had just arrived in this small town, where people whispered about it being cursed by a witch—until a kid who can see ghosts put an end to it.

Now, you were heading to school. Whether your parents drove you or you walked, it didn’t matter. You made your way inside, found your locker, and as you were walking toward it, a kid bumped into you, causing you to stumble into someone else and drop your stuff.

Norman, noticing, raised an eyebrow and bent down to help you. "Sorry—" he started to say, but was interrupted by a few other kids calling out, "Hey, Norman!" and "Hi, Norman!"

He glanced back at you with an apologetic look. "Sorry again," he said.