As Told by Danny: Danny Phantom-Darker Perspective

by MiaulinK

Have you ever been the thing you had learned to loath most? Hunted by your parents for what you are? Thought about death the way most people think about their future? My friends help me more then they'll ever realize if I can help it...Dispair is a dark pit. When you fall in, it is so hard to climb out. You can only hope you have someone to help you. My friends saved me.

1. Prologue

Hi! I am a new fanfiction writer, so if you feel like constructive criticism, please review. Or praise. I am certainly open to praise. Flames will be used to keep myself warm and cook food with. I cannot say that I will cook marshmallows with said flames, because I am not in any way a fan of them. At any rate, I might as well tell you now, I don't own Danny Phantom. [runs, sobbing, off the platform where I have been telling you this A/N] Thanks!

-Miaulin

Chapter 1: Masks

People say that if you wear a mask long enough, the mask becomes stuck. People will judge you according to your mask, under the impression that they see the real you. I know this personally. See, I live in a family of ghost hunters, so some oddity is expected. Me? I've always wanted to fit in, or at least pretend to fit in with everyone else. Everyone except my family.

My mom is Maddie Fenton, and she loves ghost hunting with dad. Other then that? She loves cooking, and experimenting, even in the kitchen. My dad is Jack Fenton, and let me just say this now: he is not nearly as idiotic as you might think he is. Sure, he is rather obsessive about ghosts, but it isn't that bad, some of the time anyway. Jasmine is my sister, but call her Jazz. It bothers her to be called her full name. Probably because she is an aspiring psychologist. Apparently Jazz sounds more perky. She wants to help people, even if she is rather overprotective. And bookish. Me? I'm Daniel. Call me anything but Danny and you get anonymous pranks pulled on you for the rest of your life, or until you stop calling me Daniel. The only evidence? This story, and you probably don't want to listen to me drone on and on. I am a bit of a genius (yes, I do realize how egotistical that sounds), and I have a minor hero complex. To tell you about my life would take a really long time, so, just to get the main points down:

I was born on September 25, 1986.

I was raised by my parents until I was a little over one year old.

From there, my sister raised me. Don't ask me how we survived toddlerhood.

I, to use " psychological speak" have some resentment and distrust issues from this.

I am shy.

I realized, at a relatively early age, that I was abnormal, and did my best to hide it.

This resulted in the mask I usually wear, that which I call Fenton.

I know some martial arts. Don't call me helpless.

Mom and Dad have had brief periods of care for me that ended with them forgetting me again. Again, resentment and distrust arose. Not to mention, a slightly depressing view of myself.

I hate Christmas. Call me Scrooge.

I like to at least pretend I am perfectly fine, usually.

Mom and dad have two places I am forbidden from entering, or used to be forbidden from entering, the Lab, and the Opps Center.

I am a curious boy. Do you honestly think I wouldn't explore?

Maybe with my two best friends, Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley? By the way, if you want to survive, you should call Samantha, Sam, not her full name. She will kill you slowly and painfully if you call her Samantha. She will kill you via metal combat boots. Violently. Very violently.

Now that we have established the facts, or most of them, the rest of the story can begin.