Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. All characters go to their respectful owners. I only own this story.

Understanding

I pity you humans sometimes. I really do. I know, coming from me that must sound strange since I've stated repeatedly that I have ceased to feel any form of emotion. But it's true. You humans are flawed in many ways, although emotions seem to be at the root of it all. You think with your hearts instead of your heads. I, unlike humans, am able to analyze a situation much faster because of the fact that I don't have to push aside hindering feelings of compassion and pity. Of course, every ghost is an imprint of a particular emotion—one that they are cursed with feeling for the rest of their afterlife. I am no different.

But just because I am not "imprinted" with Pity does not mean that I am unable to remember what it felt like. I, unfortunately, am able to remember quite a few emotions that I would have gladly left behind with my human half—with you. But I am not so lucky. I guess this is what you wanted, though: for me to take the burden of the pain and leave you blissfully unaware of the torment of losing everyone you loved.

I wonder sometimes what you thought was going to happen when you had me ripped from your chest. Did you think I would just fly off into the Ghost Zone and leave the painful world behind? Did you expect to capture me and keep me hidden away while I wallowed in my—your—grief? That's another reason why I detest emotions so much: they cloud rational thought and cause catastrophes. Just look at what happened when you didn't think things through: you destroyed the world. Well, I did, but, then again, technically I am you—you and Vlad. It's no wonder you didn't want to work for that crazy old man; you two could demolish everything if you set your minds to it. And here's little old me: with both of your brilliant ideas, crumpled together inside a broken mind.

I do wonder just whose idea it was to put every negative emotion possible into one body. Maybe you came up with the idea, and maybe Vlad just encouraged it. I'll never know. Not that it matters anyway. Not now. It's too late to ponder such ludicrous thoughts. The fact of the matter is that you weren't strong enough, and you thought I, your infallible ghost half, would be. I wish you were right; I honestly do.

Because I have your mind, and I can remember what being the town's hero was like, I can understand how you think the world is black and white, good and evil. But it's not. I'm not saying that I'm in the clear here—I've done plenty of "evil" things, like kill and destroy and support apathy—but the world isn't as clear-cut as you might think. Everyone has their reasons for doing what they do.

I'm not sure exactly why you sacrifice all of your free time to protect a city that is full of people who hate you. I don't understand what keeps you going even after your parents threaten to dissect you "molecule by molecule" right to your face, but maybe that's because you don't know why either. Maybe, if things hadn't changed so suddenly, you might have found your reason; your drive: your obsession. I'll never know, and, if things go according to plan, neither will you.

Something people seem to forget is that ghosts don't die; they don't just stop haunting one day and move on. You're different, though: you're half human, so you don't have to live for an eternity. I don't get that same leisure. You see, I'm a full ghost—ever since you tore me out of you—so I get to live forever, with those emotions you couldn't let go. I get to live my afterlife remembering and reflecting and regretting everything you—and I—did. Or maybe it's what we didn't do—what you couldn't do—that makes me so bitter.

You couldn't admit that you were in the wrong. You refused to accept that you were taking the wrong path to success. You found the CAT answers in your hands, and you couldn't let it go. You refused to turn yourself in and accept the punishment you knew you'd receive from the teachers and your parents. For those few, amazingly stress-free days, you were on top of the world, and you knew that as soon as you relinquished your hold on the answers, that your whole world would come to a screeching halt and you'd go tumbling off.

And that's what I have to live with, everyday. And it's what I will live with for the rest of my never-ending afterlife. Your weak human mind couldn't handle all of that guilt and shame that you could have saved your friends if you'd only turned yourself in. So you pushed it onto me, and then ripped me from your body so you wouldn't have to feel those haunting emotions anymore. But you forgot that I was just as weak as you were. I couldn't handle that burden on my own, so I did the first thing I could think of: I shared.

This is why I hate emotions so much. I, being a ghost, am made up of almost one hundred percent emotion, left behind by whoever died. For a ghost to be formed, there have to be extremely strong emotions being felt at the time of death. That's what the ghost is imprinted on—that's what forms a ghost's obsession. When I was "born" I was left feeling all of that hate and guilt and regret that you couldn't forget—that you couldn't let go. And with all of that swirling around in my head, the only sane thought that I could process was that if I could somehow share my feelings with someone else, then I might lessen some of the pain. So I tore out Vlad's ghost half and merged with him.

Now, if I had been able to think clearly, I would have realized how terrible that idea was. Because in all of that confusion and desperation, I forgot that Vlad's ghost half was just a weak as I was. Really, I was a fire: burning and raging and consuming everything, and adding Vlad's ghost into the mix was like putting gasoline to a match. It's probably fitting that I managed to blow up the house in my fit of rage. But, honestly, when you have your ghost half—full of hate and guilt and regret—and it's mixed with Vlad's ghost half—full of resentment and a desire for revenge—what do you expect to happen? I'm certainly not going to be able to just let it go. You couldn't even do that with your humanity.

And since I couldn't let all of those negative emotions go, I was forced to find an outlet to vent my feelings and fulfill my obsession—my thoughts of revenge on those who had caused me pain. I had already gotten rid of you—the catalyst behind all of this madness—but you weren't the one who had caused the pain. So I went after the town. And, well I'm sure you know what happened afterwards. I—with both yours and Vlad's powers—was able to take out an entire city block with all of the energy that was pent up inside me and begging to be released. What did you expect me to do? Cry? Tell someone how I felt? Ha, like they would understand through words. But actions, on the other hand, were something else entirely. I couldn't make them feel the same level of pain I was cursed to feel for all of eternity, but I could at least hint at it by destroying everything they held dear. I could destroy someone's family, their job, their home, and their life. I could take everything that had been taken from me, and even if it wasn't exactly what I desired to satisfy my feelings of revenge, at least it was a start. All I wanted was for someone to understand, to empathize with me, and know what I felt day after day, month after month, year after year.

And then you showed up: the very reason behind my suffering—the key to it all. And I knew I had finally found a way out. I wasn't sure exactly why you would willingly jump into my future—if Clockwork's medallions were anything to go off of—but then again, by that point, I had stopped caring. Luckily for you, I had finally found a way to release all of my pent up emotions into one fatal, destructive burst: a ghostly wail. You managed to hop into the story just as I was beginning to settle down and think rationally again. It's amazing how good a venting scream can feel when it does more than just harmlessly hit a pillow. Not that you'd know that yet; but you will, in time.

By now, you're probably meeting up with all of the enemies that you have now, and that I have managed to destroy. They've learned that no one messes with a ghost who's lost his mind and is set on getting revenge on anyone who stands in his way. You, on the other hand, still have your sanity intact, and I'm more than certain the other ghosts will be aware of that, too. Not that getting roughed up a bit will change how you view the world once your life is ripped from under your feet. As long as you watch the destruction of everyone you love, you'll end up on the same path I did.

I will admit, though: it is nice seeing Sam and Tucker again. Even if I am incapable of truly appreciating their friendship and care anymore, I can still remember when I did, and, for me, that's enough. I can't seem to stop the smile that finds its way onto my face when one of them asks if I'm all right. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be cared for. Ten years is a long time, you see. It is a bit bittersweet when I think about how I am going to kill them. But, as I have with everything else, I'm sure I'll get over it soon enough. Living with an always-consuming rage makes it easy to forget mediocre thoughts and emotions and mix everything together into a vat of revenge. It comes in handy sometimes, it would seem. I think it's much too soon for you to truly appreciate the beauty of it, though.

Give it a few years, then you'll see. I'm sure of it. Time heals all wounds, they say. But Clockwork loves to meddle with time, especially with you, so I'm not too sure those same rules apply. But don't worry; I'll be there to help guide you along. I'll teach you the best ways to vent your anger and express everything your human side was too weak to handle. There are some advantages to being a ghost, I suppose. Although death is something I will forever envy the living for. It's all about the trade-offs, really. It seems we just received the short end of the stick. We get the short, destructive release while everyone else is rewarded with eternal slumber.

But don't focus on the negative—even if that's all you'll be able to do in the future. Remember that I'm doing this for the both of us, because nothing is worse than being alone. And after an entire year of having to suffer through school and ghost hunting, I think you've had plenty of time to understand what being "alone" truly means. It's not being by yourself in an empty room, or even being isolated from friends and family. It's having no one understand what you are going through. I've been alone for ten years. Trust me, it gets easier when you know there are others that feel the same way—even if you are the one who caused it.

So when you're sitting at your parents' and friends' graves ten years from now, hating yourself for not stopping what could have easily been prevented, just remember that you're not the only one that's had to suffer through all of that.

I have, too.