Silence filled the empty space of the library. All the books had found their places by order of the Dewey Decimal system, standing at full attention on the dustless shelves.

This really perturbed Stacye. She hated how orderly everything became before the students left. She watched from her perch, all day, the goings and comings of the clueless. They ran in giggling and teasing, seeking out books that might happen to contain a word of questionable appropriateness. Yes, Stacye was an angry apparition.

The school had burned not just once but twice in its history.
The first time was most probably accidental, but Stacye knew the second was not. And the thought made her smile. Neither time did anyone bother to look into the bygone days of events of the land.

Her days were now spent watching and her nights spent michieviously arranging titles in her own order. The living were clueless, grumbling about knowing they had everything in perfect order.

Stacye was on the verge of doing something momentous.