Afraid – Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom

Summary: Mr. Lancer sets a spur of the moment essay. The assignment: Write about what your fears. The teacher is shocked when Danny actually hands in his essay but something's amiss. The content of it is worrying and now he has to confront the teenager, whether he wants to or not.

Lancer massaged his temples as he picked up the next essay in the pile. He was only a quarter of the way through and he already had a headache – mainly because he kept reading about people's horrible experiences with spiders, bees and other such creatures. He hadn't realized how many of his students feared insects. Miss Manson's essay, however, had served to amuse him for a few moments. It was obviously an essay made to mock the topic (really, who feared pink and dresses and sunlight of all things?) but the quality of the writing was excellent. Mr. Foley's essay, on the other hand, was almost as amusing (it described a world without technology) but the writing was not up to par with Miss Manson's.

Sighing, he glanced at the name scribbled at the top and was pleasantly surprised to find 'Daniel Fenton' written there. It seemed that Mr. Fenton had actually managed to hand in his homework – for once.

Fears; they're something everyone has. Some people are afraid of spiders, others of heights. There are some seemingly ridiculous fears in the world too. As an individual, I too have my own fears.

Being alone. Solitude. Isolation. Three different ways of describing my first fear. I may only have a few close friends but I'm not alone. Sam and Tucker – best friends for life. You won't find more loyal friends than them. My sister, Jazz, she's always there too. She's overprotective and annoying, but she's still there, she still cares. My parents; one could say that they aren't good parents, that they're neglectful. It does seem that way sometimes – they're so obsessed with their work. But they would drop everything for Jazz and I. How could I feel alone with people willing to do that for me? I don't know what would happen if they left one day. I only know that I would hate it, that I would be scared. And alone. Maybe I would go insane, become something I hate. I did once.

Number two: failing to protect people. Unbelievable but true. It may seem like I've never done anything to protect others. It doesn't really matter if it seems like that to others; it only matters that they're safe. If one day I was to fail, I think that the guilt would be too much. It would consume me. I would probably do something I would regret. It's horrible, guilt.

Becoming evil. This fear is always in the back of my mind, reminding me of what could happen. I've seen it once, it happened to someone I knew. It was horrible. He was guilt-ridden, depressed. His depression turned to anger and then to hate. I loathed what he became. I loathed it…and it disturbed me. I never want that to happen again. Every time I feel intense ire bubbling up in me, I work to force it down. I shudder to think what might happen if I ever failed.

Myself, my being. I have the capability to do many things. Everyone does, really, but somehow it's more dangerous with me. It's disturbing to think about it. I could kill you so easily. I could break you, scar you, torture you. I could do so much. And what if I did? It would be terrifying. I can't sleep sometimes. The thoughts become too much. I really hate myself sometimes.

Fears; they're scary, aren't they? They should be though. Otherwise, how could they be fears? I have several, but then, I suppose you do too.

Lancer gently placed his pen down on the desk. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this. It didn't sound like Daniel. But it was in his handwriting and his name was at the top. It couldn't be Daniel, though, it couldn't. Daniel had never seemed so…dark.

But maybe you just having been paying enough attention, a small voice in the back of his head commented.

It was concerning. Something just wasn't right. It sounded like Daniel had something going on around him and it didn't sound good. Was it affecting his health? Maybe, the boy had looked more tired recently. But couldn't that just be him staying up playing video games? He'd been looking paler too, though. Did his parents know? Probably not.

Lancer sighed and sat back in his chair. What to do now?

This was inspired when I read someone else's fanfiction; there was a small section when Mr. Lancer set this essay. I thought it would be cool to actually write though so I did.

Edit: I changed this slightly in the hopes of improving the poor quality of writing.