I was sitting at my desk, wishing I were somewhere else. My teacher, Ms. Hanover, was flipping through some papers. I knew what was coming--a test in American history. Last year I had enough trouble remembering what happened in my own state. I'm sure I can't remember what happened in the whole country!
Soon I would be getting another F Ms. Hanover had given me a lecture about my grades just the other day.
"You're not stupid, Janice," she had said. "In fact, I think you're quite bright. Your problem is that you're lazy."
I'm not lazy. I just like to daydream. Mostly I daydream about what I'll do when I grow up. I'm going to be a famous writer and autograph my best-selling ghost stories.
I really believe in ghosts. Once on TV I saw a seance. That's where you sit around a table and hold hands and call for a spirit to talk to you.
Anyway, I was wishing someone else could take the history test for me
That way I could spend the time thinking up ghost stories.
Under my breath I said, "If anyone out there wants to help me, feel free to do so."
Suddenly a pencil lying on my desk began to move. I did a double take, like in the cartoons Was I seeing things?
The pencil stood up at an angle, as if someone were holding it. Then it started to write on a piece Of paper in front of me. It wrote, "Hello, my name is Flora."
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