Anyone read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows? If you reading it right now and you don't want to see a spoiler, skip of my dedications and disclaimers. If you are reading and you read my dedication, don't get mad at me, I warned you. Also, you guys should know that book is a great book but it's sad.
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, Butch Hartman does however, and if he ever reads this, then I would like him to know I would like it very much if he gave me Danny Phantom.
Dedication: To Fred Weasley. I'm a nerd I know he's fictional. And, I know again, that wasn't really that big of a spoiler, but if you think about it….
I'm trying to expand my writing skills, so this will be written in first person. Sam's point of view.
Written by: Butterfly.Kisses627
Published: July 23, 2007
Summary: Danny's dead. People kept looking at me like I was going to snap. After all, I was the one who had been with him on the hill when he was killed by the pale ghost with no eyes. I was the one who had to be pried away from his body by two full grown men. And yet, the tears won't come. I know longer feel, and that scares me. DS and TJ
A oneshot by Butterfly.Kisses627: The Things You'll Never Know
"I'm Sam Manson and my Happy Princess talent is... [Sees Dora glaring at her with evil eyes Goth haiku. Despair without end." [Whispers "Dora's a ghost! Utter Blackness! Nothingness." [Whispers "Dora's a ghost!" [Clears throat "Dora is a ghost!" –Sam Manson
"So that's your big statement?'Dora's a ghost?' I mean, what's that have to do with - wait... Dora's a ghost?"-Danny Fenton
Dear Danny,
It's been a year since you've died. It's still sinking in for me. Jazz said writing letters to you might help. She's a secretary for a physiatrist, you know? She hears lots of great advice.
The thing is, I don't really know what to write. So I think I'll write what's happened since you've been gone. It still feels like you'll becoming back from an extended vacation. But, as much as I try to convince myself that that's the reason I don't see you every morning before school starts, I know its not true.
Here it is, Danny, and although I know you probably already know what's happening, I just think you should hear it from my point of view too:
I tried to convince myself otherwise, but it proved impossible to do so. There was no way around it. Daniel Fenton, Danny Phantom, my best friend, was dead. His funeral was quiet. Mourners came and went, telling Danny's parents, Jazz, and sometimes Tucker and I, how sorry they were to lose such a fantastic boy. Even people like Mr. Lancer and Vlad Masters came, though Vlad didn't seem too disturbed. On the contrary, he seemed downright pleased to be at his best friend's son's funeral.
Tucker was concerned for me. He stayed faithfully by my side, willing to let me break down and sob onto his shoulder if I needed too. Even after I told Tucker I was fine, he watched me carefully. After I excused myself to go to the ladies room, Tucker kept his distance from me. I had caught him sobbing over his grave, and I was almost positive he didn't want me to see him so vulnerable. This was Tucker after all. The jokester, the one who never found a reason to frown, and it was like he was trying to prove to me that even his best friend's death couldn't get him down.
Tucker wasn't the only one who expected I would breakdown at any moment. People just assumed I would snap, and break down in tears. I was his best friend, after all. Some of these people even assumed I was his girlfriend. Shouldn't his girlfriend be the one who they had to pry away from the grave in tears of rage? Shouldn't his girlfriend be the one who had mascara constantly running down her face? Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to succumb to their wishes.
I, myself, was shocked at my behavior. Wasn't it I, who had watched him die? Wasn't it I, who had tried to beat off the pale ghost with no eyes with no weapons? Wasn't it I had watched him slump to the ground? Was I not the one who had told him she loved him just moments before the pale ghost ruined everything that made my life worth living?
And yet, tears eluded me. Even after days I locked myself in my room, flipping through old photo albums, the tears stayed at bay. I wanted them to come, I really did, not that I enjoyed crying, really, it was just something I had felt like I had to do as a duty to my friend. I felt like an outsider watching everyone else grieve, and I stood there and watched as a heartless no one.
It seemed I was an empty shell. And I was. Numb. Someone could have stuck a thousand knives through me and I wouldn't have noticed. I became quiet, food became something of the past, I only ate when I had too, and when I spoke, I sounded monotone. I tried to deny these changes in me, the once fierce rebel who had now become a living robot, but it was hard not to notice. I had turned a body with no soul.
A month passed. Then a month and a half. Then two months. Everyone had stopped waiting for me to break. Everyone stopped feeling sorry for me. I once even heard Paulina sneer at me "Isn't it time for you to get a new battery robot?" Her remark flew over my head. What did I care anymore? Why should I even bother to retort back?
I sat down by Tucker at lunch. He looked up when I sat down, but returned to his lunch quickly. He barely tried to start a conversation anymore. I only ever gave him strait foreword answers, and he probably started to feel stupid, like he was talking to a rock who could only grunt back. I never really had anything to say anymore.
After another minute of silence, Tucker cleared his throat. "Uhm, Sam, today it's been two months since…it happened."
I nodded. "Meet me after my locker after school then?" I asked dully, not looking up from my lunch. Tucker nodded.
Every month, Tucker and I made it a point to visit his grave. Last month, we brought flowers, and cleaned up his grave. After ten minutes, Tucker broke down, not caring if I saw, and left. I should have gone after him and comforted him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I stood there. I really can't remember how long I stood there looking down at his grave. But I know that when I was finally pulled out of my trance it was dark and my cell phone had thirteen missed calls from Tucker and my parents.
"Are we bringing flowers for him?" I asked, surprising myself. I usually never asked questions anymore. Whatever happened was what happened.
"I'll call my mom and have her bring some up if you want." Tucker looked up from his food. By his facial expression, he looked shocked that I had actually struck up conversation. He opened his mouth, unsure if he should continue the conversation.
I looked down at my food, again. I wasn't used to actually talking. Why should I start now?
"I think he would like that." I muttered, sure Tucker wouldn't be able to hear.
"I'm sure he would."
The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Then again, it always did. Faces of people I used to recognize became blurred. I wasn't up to date on things like if Dash was dating Paulina, or if Valerie was still trying to get back her ghost suit. Not that she'd need it. Once the Fenton's had found out who their son was, and what he was killed by, they decided to destroy the Fenton Portal. Ghosts rarely came to our town anymore. Most of the attacks had been in Wisconsin, where Vlad still kept his portal. Still, all of this had been kept silenced, and no one was really curious as to why the ghost boy had disappeared or why ghosts had stopped attacking. Valerie still had always claimed she was ready to fight, in case, "that scum of a ghost decides to come back."
She'd be heartbroken if she knew who that scum of a ghost was.
Tucker came up to me holding a bouquet of daisies. They looked kind of bland all bunched together, but they were his favorite flower.
"My mom dropped these off at the front office." He explained, although I did not ask. "She wants me home by seven since I'm supposed to be grounded for sneaking over to see Jazz, but since we're visiting Da- I mean, him, my mom said it was alright to bend the rules just a little."
I felt my eyebrows rise. Tucker had almost broken our key rule. We do not say his name. It was something that went unspoken.
I was, however, surprised that Tucker was grounded. Had he told me this? Why was he sneaking out to see Jazz? Were the dating and didn't tell me? Something in my gut told me Tucker had told me he was grounded, but didn't mention Jazz. Maybe they were dating. For the first time since his death, I felt out of the loop. I was actually interested in something that I had missed. I wanted to ask Tucker about him and Jazz, but it felt weird even thinking about it.
We walked outside the school doors. The day was beautiful with clear skies, and not a ghost in sight. The kind of day he would have loved. The wind whipped gently, pulling my hair in my face. I reached for a rubber band that I usually kept on my wrist but it wasn't there. Hair continuously pushed in my face. Wow, when had my hair grown to be so long? It reached a little longer than my shoulders now. Without a rubber band, I had to push my hair back and keep heading down the school steps.
The cemetery was a block a way. Tucker complained about the wind when it knocked his beret off for the third time but other than that, it was silent. I kept my head down, as I had learned to in the past two months.
We reached the cemetery in good time. Both of us knew where his grave was. It infuriated me, that his grave was stuck in the middle of a bunch of other graves. He deserved a memorial! He was the one who saved millions of lives, and no one really cared he was gone. When we reached his grave Tucker and I went strait to work. We pulled out weeds that had clumped around his grave, and I picked up the flowers we had given him last month that had long since died, and threw them away in a trashcan that was near the entrance of the cemetery.
When I came back, Tucker was placing the flowers down in the front of the grave. I kneeled down next to him, and put my hand on his shoulder. I hoped it would comfort him a little. Tucker looked up, shocked at my presence. Then, without warning, he hugged me. Slowly, I eased into his arms. We must have looked like a sight to people passing by, two teens sweaty and dirty kneeling and hugging next to a grave.
The embrace ended quickly. Tucker looked surprised that he hugged me, let alone the fact that I didn't get angry at him. But I was long past anger. I know longer felt things like anger and happiness. But, when Tucker hugged me, I had felt….wanted. Loved. It was nice, but altogether still terrifying that after all these months I was still feeling something.
We were both still kneeling. Tucker was still a head taller than me and was looking down at his grave. I, however, did everything not to look at Tucker or catch glimpses of his hands that were resting so close to mine.
Tucker stood up. I think he had enough visiting today. I never minded if he left me before. In fact, it was kind of a relief. These days, I preferred being on my own. Now, I didn't want him to go.
"I told him I loved him." I said, quietly. Immediately, I closed my mouth, and shut my eyes. I never told anyone anything about that night on the hill. No one knew the in the slightest what happened that night, except that a ghost killed him. Mostly they had just guessed. But here I was, blurting out something I had locked inside me for two long months.
Tucker looked at me curiously, and he kneeled back down next to me. "And what did he say?" he pushed gently.
"Nothing." I whispered quietly. "The ghost c-came." I looked at my hands to see that I was trembling even though it wasn't cold out.
"I could tell you what he would have-"
"Tucker, don't," I interrupted. "I don't want to know what he would have said or what you thought he would have said."
"Sam, is there really any question about it, though?" Tucker asked. I opened my mouth to argue back, but Tucker kept talking. "He was your best friend how is there no love there?"
"No, Tucker, that's not what I meant-"
"I know what you meant, Sam, but, really, is the way you loved him any different from the way I love you like a friend. Love is love, Sam."
I closed my eyes again. As much as I hated to admit it, Tucker was right. I spoke slowly, unsure of how to continue, "I just wish I knew how he felt."
Tucker lifted my chin toward his face. "I'm sure there was no possible way that anyone could have loved you more." He pulled out a small silver necklace with a small heart with two small diamonds on it. "He told me to keep this safe for him, until he was ready to ask you out. I wasn't sure how you would take it if I told you, so I kept it with me, just in case I thought you were ready to know."
Tucker fastened the chain around my neck. "Your hair looks pretty like that, Sam. Down and long, I mean."
Tucker's response threw me off guard. And then, I did what was expected of me from the past two months. I cried. I felt Tucker pull me of my knees, and hugged me warmly, but I was vaguely aware of it. Emotions flew back in my. I was angry at the pale ghost, for killing him, and angry at him, for leaving me, I was upset, and happy I had finally felt something, and scared of these emotions that had suddenly flew back in me.
It was like I was riding a bicycle for the first time after forty long years. You never forget how to ride a bike, but its still scary getting back up there.
I looked up at Tucker. He had tears running down his face, too, but I could barely see them. My vision had been obscured by my own stupid tears.
"I loved him, Tuck. I still do. I love Danny." I buried my face in his chest, trying to seek some solace there. He smelt good, and that managed to calm me down a little.
Tucker stroked my hair. Then, he whispered in my ear something that caused me to sob, if possible, a little harder that I already was.
"I know."
Days passed, and it's seemed like for days and days I couldn't stop crying. I missed two days of school, and the day I came back, I walked right passed Danny's locker, and sobbed. And sobbed and sobbed. Mr. Lancer had told me I could go home, but Tucker got me through the rest of the day. I think I thought I would never go back to school after that day, and when I got home I flung myself on my bed. But I noticed the large pile of homework I had to do. And I did it. And for the first time since the graveyard, I think I felt like I was going to be okay. Life was still going on and I was going to be pulled along whether I liked it or not. But a part of me felt guilty because I felt like we were leaving you behind.
The weeks went on, and there were days when I had felt fine. One day I even remember laughing when Tucker had asked Jazz out publicly (I was right, they were dating before, but secretly because they were unsure how I would react.) and his pants fell down. ("I knew they were too big!") I can't remember ever laughing so hard, he reminded me of you so much, and I remember crying right when I got home, because I had tried to call you and tell you of Tucker's pants incident, and then I remember why you hadn't answered.
Still, Danny, I miss you. Tomorrows my birthday and I'll be getting my license. We celebrated your birthday a month ago, but no one ate any of the cake. We were waiting for someone to blow out the candles.
It's been a year since you've died, Danny, and I still have your necklace. When someone asks me out, I tell them I'm taken. Tucker says I should get out there and date, that you wouldn't mind, but I'm still taken by the greatest Ghost kid alive. And until he says otherwise, I'm taken by him and him only.
It's been a year, Danny, and Tucker and I still visit your grave every month. Tucker sends his love, but we both want to know when you're coming home.
I love you. I always will,
Sam
Okay, well I just got the letter idea about a minute ago and I really didn't want to go and change the story part to where I had to change all the him's and Danny's to you's. So, sorry that it will read kind of weird.
Feel free to correct grammar, and whatnot.
Please review! The more you review, the more I update fics like Cut, Disguises, and My Sister's Keeper.
Go on, send me a smile. (Please)
-Butterfly.Kisses627
