A/N: This is my first fanfiction. I'll update this as soon as I can, I'm pretty sure I have an idea of where this is going, but that may change as time goes on. Any reviews are welcome, I always like to know where I can improve. None of the characters from ParaNorman or Danny Phantom belong to me, they belong to their respective creators.

Norman was watching the kid from across the street. The kid didn't live here — at least, Norman was pretty sure he'd never seen him before. A shiver went up Norman's spine. Yeah, he definitely would've remembered this guy.

There was just something... off about him. He gave Norman the heebie-jeebies. And that was not an easy thing to do, considering what had happened in Blithe Hollow just a few months ago.

Norman kept staring at the kid. He was about fourteen or fifteen, with messy black hair and a red and white T-shirt. He looked kind of average, to be honest. Someone who wasn't paying attention probably could've mistaken him for a normal teenager. But Norman knew something was up, something he couldn't quite put his finger on...

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw it. Maybe he hadn't noticed before because he had seen it so many times with ghosts but — wait, was this kid a ghost? He couldn't be, Norman decided. People were walking around him, which meant that they could see him, which meant —. Norman shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Okay, so this kid wasn't a ghost. Then what was he? Because he couldn't be human, at least, not entirely. He was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, on one of the sunniest days of the year — except he didn't have a shadow. And now he was looking right at Norman.

Norman looked at the kid with wide eyes, then made a decision. He crossed the street and walked over to the kid. The kid looked at him, blinked, and started walking in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" Norman called, jogging to keep up. "Hey, are-are you a ghost?"

The kid looked back at him, almost disdainful, but a little sad too. Then he quickened his stride.

"Wait up! Look, I wanna help you!"

The kid stopped abruptly, and Norman almost ran into him. Norman swallowed, then forged ahead.

"You don't have a shadow."

The kid blinked. Norman looked down at his feet. He really hoped he hadn't been wrong about the kid's shadow - or lack thereof. If he had, this was gonna get really awkward, really fast.

"Are you some kind of ghost?"

The kid didn't say anything, just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Norman tried a different tactic.

"Sorry, let me start over. My name's Norman, what's yours?"

The kid blinked again. Norman was starting to get really nervous.

"Can you talk?"

The kid stared at him, then slowly shook his head. Norman stepped forward and took a deep breath.

"Please stop running away. I want to help you."

The kid looked at Norman, then down at his feet, like he was making a decision. Then he moved to the side of the road and picked up a stick.

Norman backed away nervously, but the kid didn't attack him with it. Instead he scrawled something almost illegible in the dirt next to the sidewalk. Norman craned his neck and tried to make it out. It could barely be considered writing, but he finally managed to read what the kid was trying to say. It was two words, and Norman looked up at the kid as he tapped them impatiently with his stick. Amity Park.