So this idea keeps banging in my head, and it won't go away. The funny thing is, I didn't realize that I would be posting this so soon until I already finished the chapter. Whoops?

Anyway, here are some notes.

1) No OC/Character parings: Hannah will not be paired with Danny or any other character.

2) This is OC centric, but there might be third person perspective every now and again.

3) The story is written with an intended sequel in mind, but looking on my mental outline, I don't know how long the original is going to be. Just saying, I'm looking forward to the sequel too much to not finish this story.

4) Apparently, Danny's birthday is in April, so he is fifteen in this story.

Timeline: Some time in season three.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, or any anime, book, or game references that my character may say. All rights go to their respective owners.

This all being said let's get started!

Road Trip

Amity Park, "A Nice Place to Live", "Most Haunted Place in America", "Home of the Crazy Ghost Hunters! Beware!", and…

My new home.

I knew I should have seen it coming. I mean, my dad had been ranting about his job for months now. How the company he worked for was trying to make his life a living hell for not trying to take a management position, mostly, but, of course, I was too wrapped up in my own lives and own friends to notice.

What a wonderful daughter I am, right? So perceptive.

Oh, sarcasm. My only friend left with me after the tragedy that is my life…God, did that sound narcissistic. I'm moving to Illinois, not having to live on the streets with a cup and a banjo holding a sign saying "Will play for food." Sometimes I wonder about those theatre classes I've taken.

I'm off topic. Moving. To Amity Park. Two months after my sophomore has already started. If that didn't sound like a recipe for fun and giggles, I don't know what is.

Seriously though, what the heck? Why couldn't we have waited to move until after I finished my first semester of my sophomore year? If Axiom Labs valued my dad so much, why couldn't they let him come later? But noooooo, they wanted him ASAP or the position would be gone.

Selfish pricks.

So that is why we are driving cross country in the family's Ford truck from Texas to Illinois. We're almost there too. The time passes quite quickly when Jim Dale reads all the Harry Potter books. We finished book one about an hour ago, I think.

Right now, I'm sitting in the back of the family car, listening to my playlist of my favorite songs that's varies from "Demon" by Imagine Dragons to "Let it Go" from Frozen. "Clarity" rings through my ears, blocking out the world. A 3DS is also in my hands as I absentmindingly playing as Peach in Super Smash Bros.

Yeah, I'm acting like a brooding teenager (plus the DS, but I'm incomplete without the thing), but I have a reason. My dad promised me that we would finally stop moving when I entered high school. Daddy never lies to me, and we've made a promise to never lie to each other.

He lived up to his promise too. Usually we move every single year since kindergarten, going from company to lab to university to science empoison to yadda yadda building., and so on and so forth. My dad is one of the best scientists in his field, who has fancy sounding name that makes us both laugh. His job involves making machines that works on people on a molecular level. Daddy not only has a doctorate in computer and mechanical engineering, but he also has a master's degree in both molecular biology and medicine.

Meaning, my dad is a freaking genius with way too much time on his hands. As a result, we have to move because people want my dad everywhere, yet none of them can treat him like a person, only a machine.

Unlike most people who wanted to do well in their job just to get a promotion and be the head boss, my dad just wants to enjoy his job. No management. No fancy sounding title that gives millions. Just his science. Unfortunately, he's a good leader, and the companies actually want him to be manager. For three of the eight or so companies Daddy has worked in, they made his life a living hell once they found out he didn't want the leading position.

However, the last company my dad worked in actually treated him well. Yeah, they wanted him to lead a little bit, but he got a good salary, a nice workplace, and group of people who respect him without wanting to jump him for not wanting to be greater than he was at the moment.

Nice environment, right? Thus, my dad was ticked when the new CEO changed the entire system to one of bullies...excuse me, management path potential. With that, my dad hated his job once more, but was stuck because he told me we wouldn't move.

But when some private lab promised him double his salary as a simply researcher, how could he refuse?

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad my dad is out of there. He was absolutely miserable for the past month, ranting about stupid management, and why can't they just leave him alone for once, Gosh damn it?! (Hey, I'm almost sixteen. My dad decided that I'm of age that cursing is allowed in the household… from his mouth at least. "Do as I say, not as I do," I suppose.) He promised that we wouldn't move unless they doubled his salary, and since the nearest lab he could work at was nearly 500 hundred away, he was stuck.

I told him we could move, multiple times in fact. I didn't want my dad to hate his life when he wasn't at home. Daddy wouldn't have it though. A promise was a promise, and he intended to keep it… unless someone doubled his already way too large paycheck.

Which, someone did. In Illinois of all places! Which, by the way, this new location pretty much sucks for a southerner like me. C'est la vie, I suppose.

With a sigh, I turn off Smash Bros. after defeating the level 9 Meta Knight, close the 3DS, and start switching out my games. Like a machine, I get my case of way-too-many-DS-games-a-normal-person-should-have, lazily spread my eyes over my collection, and trail my finger over the colorful pictures on the cartridges.

I don't really want to play anything. I've been almost constantly playing my DS on the road trip (Daddy isn't much of a talker over road trips), and I was all gamed out for once in my life. I sigh, close my eyes, and lay back in my seat.

"You okay, Pookie-chu?" My dad asks worriedly, his eyes still on the road. I smile at the nickname. My obsession of all things Pokémon made him start combining my previous nickname "Pookie-bear" and the ever famous "Pikachu" that left me both feeling amused and loved. Before my mom died when I was ten, (damn you impossible to cure cancer), she used to call me Pookie-bear after Garfield the cat's little brown bear. I don't know why she did that, but I didn't particularly care either way. Plus if it made her happy to call me those little nicknames, who was I to stop her?

I open my eyes and tilt my head towards him, smile still on my face. "Yeah, Daddy. Just tired of gaming. Shock I know." He laughs.

"Well, you're in luck. Your boredom won't last long. We're less than an hour out." I blink at him, a small sense of dread filling me. Insanity keeps trying to convince me that this is all a dream, I'll just wake up back home, safe in our old cozy house in Texas where all my friends await me to celebrate my birthday in a couple of weeks. Well, Insanity also says that one day aliens will come take me away from my home and declare me their new leader, and even with many jumps in logic that makes no sense.

Still a person can dream.

Dreams can be reality, Hannah.

I mentally growl. Stop it. This is real life. Not a dream.

Comatose.

I clench my eyes together, concentrating on calming Insanity. Ini, if I was in a coma then weirder shit would happen than this, and I wouldn't even acknowledge that the possibility of being comatose would exist, lest I wake up.

Then our life could be in a coma. But then it wouldn't matter because our reality is comatose anyway. So, better be safe than sorry... Wait we could be in an extremely realistic dream!

I sigh. I would have to be safe either way! I'm not stupid enough to mess with a hyper realistic dream.

It would be stupid to die in a dream. If you do die, we wake up back to stupid, unfun reality. What's the point in that? I construct those dreams for you to have fun in for once, you stick in the mud!

Insanity was silent after that. I tapped on my leg, eyes stilled clenched as tried to calm myself and not to mentally slap Ini. I'm not actually insane or schizophrenic. Not really. Even if this mind talking thing is a form of schizophrenia (though it might be multiple personality disorder), this whatever-this-is is not the type that's telling me to do stuff life jump of cliffs or something. In fact, Ini helps me see different perspectives on people and places while retaining my creativity. The logical part of my mind balances my creativity, while the Insanity lets me be extremely open-minded and mature for my age. I think about things that normal fifteen year olds don't think about, the impossibility of world peace, uses of video games to interconnect the world, a full length three part book series that is darker than Edgar Allen Poe and so on and so forth. I'm grateful for this part of me, no matter if it is a little weird.

I wonder if we'll see some ghosts in the town. Will we be kidnapped and have to be saved by the elusive Phantom?

But as the name implies, Insanity exists to drive me "nutter butter" as my mom would have said.

I huff in frustration. I told you. There are no ghosts! It's media I tell you! Media!

In the back of my mind, I feel Insanity cross its metaphorical arms in a huff. (Insanity has its own room filled with bright rainbow colors with dark outlining. I picture my insanity as a blue and purple cat with green-blue eyes for some reason). Then how do you explain the little Pariah the Dark incident or the literal ghost invasion? The place was surrounded by those creatures, and the town almost got sucked into the Ghost Zone with Pariah.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Once I found out we were moving, I took it upon myself to look up everything about the town that I could. To my surprise, I found it a hotspot for ghost activity of all things. Stories of small insanities and impossibilities that Ini loves. In fact, I haven't heard anything, but stories of these strange ghost-not ghosts from Insanity since I heard of Amity Park. The stories I found looked real, but with the Internet, Photoshop, and humanity's need for attention, I really don't think that ghosts of all things would actually be a thing.

No, it's all media. Plain media.

I bite my lip and release the tension with a sigh. Look Ini, as much as I know you want it to be true, ghosts aren't real. It's only something made by media in order to get attention. Nothing more, nothing less. Now please, stop bombarding me with images of Phantom!

Insanity was quiet more a moment before speaking again. He looks about our age.

Huh?

Danny Phantom? The ghost boy? Yeah, he looks anywhere from 14 to 16. I just wonder how he died, and why he protects the town, you know? Why would someone so young have an obsession to protect so great that it followed them to the afterlife? What happened to them when they were alive? It's so… interesting the ideas that spark from one ghost's afterlife. The papers paint him from anything to a hero to a villain, yet he never once harmed anyone. It's fascinating to think about, and he's just one ghost! Excuse me if I was curious!

With that, she slammed the metaphorical door between us. (Insanity is me, so I guess the persona is a she?). I bite my lip harder. I must have hurt that part of myself. For all that Insanity is, she accepts me and just wants me to grow greater by understanding and accepting anything and everything, but we sometimes have falling outs. For as knowledgeable as she is, Ini acts like a child most of the time. She runs around her metaphorical room and can't comprehend why people act evil or hurt others. Insanity is my innocence and purity.

I've always said I had the heart of a three year old, and that heart is Ini.

I groan and lay farther back in my seat. Ini only wants me to accept the possibility of ghosts. I guess, it shouldn't be too much to have an open mind… right? I let another sigh of frustration, and mentally slide a note under her 'door' saying "You win, I'll look out for all the ghosts, especially this Phantom that you keep obsessing over...Love, our logic, Hannah." The door between us stays shut, but considering the pressure in my head that I didn't even know was there is now gone, I guess Ini is okay.

I smile slightly. As much as she drives me insane, I love this part of me.

"So what did Ini have to say?" I blink and look back up to my dad. With dealing with Insanity, I completely forgot about our previous conversation. I blush and laugh slightly.

"Well, first she was talking about dreams, but then she got annoyed when I told her I didn't believe in ghosts. But we're okay now." He chuckles and turns on the wipers when the rain starts coming down harder than a slight sprinkle. Yes, my dad knows about Ini. Why wouldn't I tell him? I thought I was insane when I heard her in my head one day, so the next logical thing to do is tell my dad, right?

Here's the kicker, my dad has the voice in his head too. He didn't call his persona Insanity; he called it George. (I named her before I knew the heck she was. The name kind of stuck.) My dad's name is Fredrick, Fred for short, so being Harry Potter fan plus the fact my mom was fascinated by the name George, (I love you and squeeze you and call you George), why not name it that?

He's been the one to help deal with this persona. Dad says that he's had his for years, but didn't exactly acknowledge it until it told him to marry my mom. Since then, he's been dubbed George. It's been weird with Ini, sure, but it's not like she's there all the time. Most of the time my head is my own with no other voices trying to influence me, so it's not like she really disturbs my life.

As I said before, I love Ini. Even if she is a bit crazy.

"George drives me crazy too but..." My dad tilted his head towards me a smirk on his face. One beat passed. I gave a small laugh.

"We gotta love them." I finish. He smiles and concentrates on the road, leaving me to my musings. I look out the window, watching the rain fall and the Illinois land blur past us. "Hey, Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"When will the movers get to Amity?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Well, they told me that they'll get here tonight at about ten. I thought we would get some time to explore the town but.. "He gestured with one hands towards the window, and the increasing rain.

Great. It's only five right now. "We could go visit Axiom Labs." I offer.

"No, no. I'm getting the tour on Monday." Today is Friday, September 26th maybe? Maybe the 24th. I'm horrible with dates.

"Then maybe we can just drive around for a bit. See the sites." See the ghosts!

He smiles. "That sounds nice."

We get into a comfortable silence after that. Our relationship has been a bit strained for the last couple weeks, and I miss my dad. We've never had that big of fights as far as I could remember, and no matter what, my dad is my best friend. He understands me better than any one of my friends back at our old home. We joke around, and poke fun at each other, but most of all, he'll always be there with me. When I move, he moves. I won't lose him in a never to be used contact in my phone until I don't remember the name to the face. It's a silly reason, one that I could fix with my other friends if I tried, but..

There's another reason why I keep most people away.

I look back up to my dad. "Should I take my inhaler now, or wait for the machine when we get to Amity?"

His brows furrows and a frown goes to his face. "Are you okay? Feeling any pain?"

I give a small smile. "Kind of, but it's nothing I'm not used to. I just want to be able to help unpack the car without worrying." He nods. Daddy's probably thinking 10 million miles per hour based on the look on his face. He nods again.

"Take a spritz now, and at nine, you'll use the machine. That sound good?" He smiles once more, though I could see the pain in his smile. I try to smile back.

"Yeah, thanks Daddy."

"No problem, Sweetie."

I close up the forgotten game pouch on my lap, and place it and my DS in my purse. After rummaging through my purse for a second, I found my inhaler.

I hate the damn thing. Even now when I'm holding it, the blue container mocks me. It thinks I'm weak for not being able to live without it. I give it a quick glare before giving a frustrated huff.

The bottom of the inhaler opens with a small pop. I go through my usual routine. Shake the inhaler. Breathe all the way out. Place the inhaler in my mouth. Press the top and feel the cold disgusting medicine. Breathe in at the same time. Wait 60 seconds. Breathe out.

Even with one spritz, I can feel the pain receding my chest. I give a small sigh of relief but still give a glare to the little inhaler before putting it back. After making sure everything was in its proper place, I lay back in my seat, closing my eyes and trying to empty my mind.

I'm actively dying. That's what the whole inhaler thing is about. When I was born I had weak lungs. At first, the doctors though it was asthma, though how they got thick mucus versus what actually is wrong with me, we'll never know.

The real thing is much scarier. My lungs are actively deteriorating. They are slowly crumbling in on themselves every day. The inhaler coats my lungs with a liquid that is supposed to help prevent the crumpling while my machine makes my lungs remember how to work while giving the medicine that coats my lungs with stuff.

Either way, I'm not supposed to be able to live longer than in my twenties. The doctors wanted me to stay in their little labs while they try to fund a cure to an incurable disease. (Damn you cancer), but my parents and I (my parents not wanting to stay completely surprised me at the time) refused. After much debate and deliberation, they finally comprised with the inhaler, machine, and a check up every other month. (I'll we spending a weekend every other month flying to one of their labs to test me like a rat- excuse me- check up on me.)

When I asked my parents why they didn't want me to have the major tests, they said that they wanted me to live my life, and it was ultimately my decision whether I have the exams, surgeries, and what not.

Keep in mind, I was nine at the time. Still mature for my age, but not by much. I think they both knew the exams would fail. I could tell, even as a little girl. I mostly think they knew because my mom was dying too.

My poor Daddy. He lost Mommy less than a year after he was told his only daughter, his only child, was going to die. He's a strong person, and I hate seeing him so depressed. I don't want to hurt him with my death, but there really isn't anything I can do. My disease is basically a cancer without the cancer cells. It destroys my own body with no way to stop it other than some not-so-cheap tricks that only slow down the inevitable conclusion. Arguably, any medicine does that, but for me, it's a simple fact. If I didn't live in the twenty first contrary, I would be dead, no ifs, ands, ors, or buts.

"Hey Hannah, Honey? We're here." I open my eyes and see the small town of Amity Park in front of me. It's not a very big town. One could probably walk to entire scope of it in an afternoon, not like Austin, Dallas, or Houston. However, it looks nice, I think.

We drive by a sign that says "Amity Park A Nice Place to Live."

I snort. Yeah, maybe. If the supposed ghost attacks won't get me, my disease will first, or Ini's lessons on creativity will drive me mad and send me to a looney bin. Who knows?

Like the times before, Amity Park is a fresh start. Let's just hope it's a good one this time.

Hope you enjoyed! If you like it, please review. Either way, I hope to see you next time!

Edited: April 30, 2015