Me: Now, although most of my stories are funny, I enjoy reading angst the most, so I decided that I should write a good 'ol angst. My first story was angst, but I hated where it was going, so I quit it and starting this one. I hated the way I wrote that one, but I plan on continuing this one till the end if enough people review on it and give me advice, but no haters please!
Danny Muse: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST!
Me: ANGST!
Chapter 1
In this world there is pain beyond belief. The one that we humans seem to rationalize the most is the physical pain. A broken bone, the stub of a toe, these are the pains that we can SEE. These to us seem normal, they make sense. But there is pain deeper than that of the physical kind. There is a pain that brings you to your knees. A pain that makes you scream out in pure agony when the sun is shining on a seemingly perfect day, a weight that refuses to lift from your already burned shoulders; mental pain, the pain which has buried itself into your very being.
Hi, my name is Daniel James Fenton; but my friends call me Danny. I am 14 years old and go to Casper High School in Amity Park, Ohio. I'm nothing special to the naked eye. I am short, have jet black hair and navy blue eyes. I'm considered a nerd or geek among my peers, and I have only two friends, but they mean the world to me. Those friends are Samantha Manson (but she will kill you if you call her Samantha, and would prefer to be called Sam) and Tucker Foley.
Tucker is your classic geek. Big black glasses don his dark colored face, and he wears a red colored hat. He is interested in anything and everything to do with technology, and can hack into just about any system. It's pretty cool actually.
Then there is Sam- and let's just cut to the chase, she is a hot freaking mess. Don't you DARE tell her I said that or she will KILL me! I'm not even kidding you…she will. I mean it though! Her violet eyes framed by that onyx hair…she's a picture out of a storybook…I swear if you tell her though, you are dead.
I have a pretty good family too. My mom, Maddie Fenton, is the best mom a kid could ever want. She is always caring for about every living thing (well except ghosts but they aren't alive so they don't really count…well most of them aren't alive…) and she puts up with my dad, which I have to give her brownie points for, as he can be insufferable at times.
My dad, Jack Fenton, is the goofiest guy around. He is always doing something interesting, whether it is playing with action figures, knitting, or blowing something up in our lab he is always doing something. He can be a bit unbearable at times, but he is a caring father and will step up in his game if need be.
My sister, Jazz Fenton, is the future therapist of our family. She loves 'studying' people, and will talk about physiology to just about anyone and everyone who listen. Don't get me wrong, when push comes to shove she can be a very kind and approachable person, just don't get her going if you aren't prepared to hear the duration of her long winded speech.
Me? As I said before, I am nothing very different then you with appearances. The biggest one though, is my alter ego Danny Phantom. I'm half ghost you see, due to an accident in my parent's ghost lab earlier this year; I gained the ability to transform from human to ghost in the blink of an eye. Don't get me wrong, it's cool. I mean, who wouldn't think it was cool to be able to fly around, shoot beams of ectoplasm from your palm, go invisible and intangible, scream so loud that it destroys an entire street, and have ice powers on top of that? It's pretty amazing, but it comes at a cost. You see, our town is plagued with more than the occasional ghost attack, so me being the only one who has the power to stop them, am forced to give up the little time I have available to sending the ghosts back to their realm known as the Ghost Zone. (My parents… they aren't quite suitable for catching more than the occasional ghost entity. If you live with them as I do you would understand what I mean by that.)
Anyways, my life is a dramatic hassle, more than that of the average teen. I wake up around 3am to catch a ghost that strayed a little too close to home, come back home around 5am and fall back asleep for another hour before Jazz wakes me up. Then I grab a granola bar as I run out the door to school, miss the bus, and end up flying there. Around 3rd period a ghost shows up and I have to skip practically the entire class as I try to catch it, reasoning my F in Mr. Lancer's class. Then there is a ghost at lunch, so I don't get to eat ANYTHING, and then there is a ghost last hour so Miss. Tetslaff is ready to choke me to death when I randomly disappear in the middle of P.E. and don't return until there is only 5 minutes left of class. I head home with Sam and Tucker after class gets out and head up to my room after greeting my parents. I then transform into my alter ego and fly out the window and go on ghost patrol until 7pm, where I quickly fly into my room as mom is walking up the stairs to get me for dinner. After dinner I try as hard as I can to finish what homework I can before a ghost attacks again and I have to go and deal with it. All in all I end up going to bed around midnight and that is without even finishing my homework. So after a night of tossing and turning with nightmares of my past, I wake up and do it all over again.
So as you can see, my life is hectic, and not for the faint of heart. Especially if you can't stand the sight of a wound, for I can tell you I see gruesome ones upon my very body daily, even more so as of late.
On the weekends when I have even a moment to spare, I don't hang out with friends like most teens do; I haven't in about 4 months. The pressure of my life catches up to me on the weekends and I feel as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders, and it kind of is. I get angry at everyone for not helping themselves, guilty for feeling that way, frustrated that my life is what it is, and the frustration, guilt, and anger builds and builds until there is nowhere else for it to go, I have to release the pressure.
So I cut it out.
I cut out the anger. I cut out the guilt. I cut out the frustration. I replace the grater pain with a lesser pain. Blood pools as it flows down my arms and legs and I feel free. I feel as if the great chasm in my heart is filled for those glorious few moments, before it sinks back in.
It has been this way for at least 5 months, to the point I had to replace my red and white tees with long sleeved shirts. I earned a few curious stares the first day I did, but people took it as a mere change of attire and left it at that.
They don't see my tears, my pain, and my cries. They don't see my cuts, so how are they to know? And if they did know, would they even care. No, they wouldn't, instead they would give me grief and tell me to kill myself. If only they knew that I saved their sorry butts every day…
So here I sit, in Mr. Lancer's class as he blabbers on about Shakespeare, wondering when this is going to end, if it's going to end, if I can be saved. Suddenly, my ghost sense goes off and I sigh and ask to use the bathroom. Mr. Lancer grudgingly allows and I sulk to the classroom's exit and sigh.
Here we go again…maybe it won't be a hard ghost?
It's never that easy though is it? I sigh again as I recognize the ghost being as Skulker and I dunk behind a tree as I transform into Danny Phantom. I fly up to eye level and don't even bother exchanging my usual witty banter- as I am not feeling all that witty today and simply beat the crap out of him. He responds by throwing a rather sharp knife at me, which skims my leg. The knife however, barely fazes me and I simply continue on with my battle in a blur until I have successfully captured him in the Fenton Thermos.
I sigh again and go invisible and intangible and fly into the janitor's closet. I pull out a first aid kit which I had previously hidden within one of the many blue buckets and I patch up my leg's cut, noting the multitude of scars already placed there by my doing, and I wonder to myself if I will ever be free.