I KNOW I'M LATE BUT I FOUND OUT THAT IT WAS THE LAST SO I'M FREAKING RUSHING THIS STUFF OUT.A BIT ANGSTY AND DEPRESSING WARNING.
Doorways.
Some of you think that doorways signify progression, a path, an option. They always lead to something. Always. May it be a simple room, the outside world, another realm, a different time, a future, a tomorrow, or they lead to dead end.
Doorways, no matter how simple or complex they are, doorways are invaluable, and their presence and absence can have a large impact.
Danny was one of those people.
He had witnessed it first hand.
He was fourteen when it all began. When the portal, the doorway, that took his parents from him didn't work. They spent almost all their time to build that... damned contraption and it didn't work.
Maybe it had little to do with Sam coercing him for a simple photo. Maybe it had more to do with the hidden frustration or desparation that this thing should have been worth all that time.
Whatever it was that led him to that doorway, it did the trick.
'There are no accidents', they say. There are no accidents because the doorway was left wide open for him to enter. And when he did, there was no going back. The door didn't have any handles or knobs. It was a one-way trip.
He was a half-ghost now.
It changed his life.
He was confident yet shying away from everything, charming yet made fun of at every occasion, constantly in danger and hated but...
Danny didn't change at all.
Because he was always, always, striving to do the right thing. No matter what. He felt good. He felt ecstatic whenever he flies through the sky. He felt great whenever he saves someone. If you judge by the way he talks, you would say he is cynical. But if you judge by the way he smiles, you know that he knew everything was worth it.
There are no accidents.
Because that incident changed his life.
He became the savior that Amity Park needed. He'd chuckle at the reference everytime he thought of it.
He was a sophomore, and a few years after gaining his powers. And all eyes were on him. He had gained muscle, confidence, a backbone. But it wasn't that.
There are no accidents because the doorway was left wide open for him to enter. And when he had, there was no going back.
He had excused himself from Mr. Edmund's class, not even bothering to listen to the man's response as he grabbed his backpack and ran to the bathroom.
The door didn't have any handles or knobs. It was a one-way trip.
He slams the bathroom stall's door wide open, his breath shaky, and shuts it.
Whatever it was that led him to that doorway, it did the trick.
The realization hit him like a truck.
He still looked like a 14 year old.
He had put it down as a late growth spurt. He had put it down as malnutrition or lack of proper night's sleep. He had put it down because he was too busy to think why. Why he was 6 inches too short, and baby faced as ever. But he finally had the time to ponder when Mr. Edmund's drawn out speech settled on the topic of ghosts. More specifically, the immortality, and their agelessness.
He was unable to grow old.
Because that incident changed his life.
He couldn't grow old with the people he cared about, the people he loved. He'd have to watch his parents' pained expressions when he turns 20, 30, or 40 and look like a damned teenager with bright eyes and a dead soul. He'd have to watch them turn wrinkly and gray. He'd watch them...
No. It wasn't. Maybe, he had a shorter life expectancy or something. A time limit. He wished that was the case.
He ignores the fact that he was having a panic attack in his school's bathroom.
He shifts into Phantom, letting the comforting and at the same time dreadful white rings flow across his body.
He has to talk to Clockwork. Personally. Away from this place.
Some of you think that doorways signify progression, a path, an option. They always lead to something. Always. May it be a simple room, the outside world, another realm, a different time, a future, a tomorrow, or they lead to dead end.
Not many people view it as a hindrance.
Danny was one of those people.
Danny didn't believe in accidents, but he believed in chances and coincidence. He'd like to believe in those. He really would.
There are no accidents because the doorway was left wide open for him to enter. And when he did, there was no going back.
When Clockwork didn't reply, with only a remorseful look aa he continued to give all his attention to watching the timelines, Danny knew.
He had witnessed it first hand.
He thought it was unfair that as he fell silently on the ground, Clockwork shifted into his different selves. A child. A man. An elder.
Things Danny couldn't have or be.
There were no accidents, and the doorway was locked. And he didn't know where the key was. It was locked and he can't get in or out. He'd bang on the door, hoping someone would see or hear his pleas. He knew there was no going back. The door didn't have any handles or a knob. It was a one-way trip.
And he was locked in and out.