DANNY PHANTOM: THE WAY I SEE IT
DIAMOND GRYPHON
DATE: 11/28/06
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.
The middle point of view occurs well after the other two. Just take that in stide and ignore the skip, by the next chapter, everyone will catch up to each other.
CHAPTER 2: I DON'T KNOW WHY
Jazz
I don't know why I bothered to bring the Booomerang. Sighing, I pulled it out of my backpack anyway, just letting it sit in my hand.
It wasn't him. If it had been him, he would have said something, or he would have responded to my name.
Then it started beeping.
Then again, I've been wrong before. And I was never so happy to be proven wrong. I turned around and threw the Booomerang toward the center of the room, just to see if it was a fluke.
I was overjoyed when it turned around and hit the invisible ghost.
"Ow!"
There was no doubt about it, it was him! I knew that voice anywhere! Then he appeared, the same as he was 15 years ago.
I couldn't contain my smile any longer, I broke into a wide grin and barely contained a piroette before grabbing the Thermos. I had to at least look like I was getting rid of him. I hope he understood.
"Come on, it's time you went home." I sucked him into the Thermos and capped the lid with a flourish.
I wanted to run home immediately and let him out. Talk to him, ask him what had happened, why he had to leave, why he hadn't come back. After 15 years it was so good to finally see him again. But I had to act normal, I was still on the job.
I turned to the girl. "Is that all you needed?"
She nodded, and then looked concerned. "You're not going to hurt him are you?"
I laughed. If only she knew. "No. It's just catch and release. He'll be fine."
She visibly relaxed.
Walking away, I stopped when I realized I had missed something in all the excitement. Turning back around, I addressed her again.
"I'm sorry, but I never caught your name."
"It's Sam. Sam Manson." She gave me a faint smile.
"Well, Sam," I gave her one of my broad grins. "Good luck at Casper High this year.
Sam
I don't know why I even bothered going to school, other than the fact that it's required by law. I was laying in bed, thinking about how much my life sucked, a usual activity for a goth.
It's not like I would need a job. My parents were rich. I was loaded.
I tried asking my parents that question once. They said that I should have fun with my friends.
If only they knew.
I didn't have any friends. Ever since the first day of school I had been sitting at my own lunch table. The preps all teased me for being a goth. Even if they knew I was rich they would probably still hate me.
"Well, Sam, good luck at Casper High this year."
Her voice played through me head as I tried to get to sleep. 'Good luck', I'll need it.
I don't know what it was about me, but as soon as I entered Casper, I became a loser magnet.
Now I'm fine with social outcasts or unpopular kids. When I say losers, I mean people who don't seem to have lives.
Most of the losers left after I threatened them. All I had to do was scowl and talk about how much experience I've had with giving people black eyes. It's not a bluff, at least, most of it isn't.
One of the losers I can't seem to get rid of. He was a carnivore (Gross!) and a desperate techno-geek. And I mean desperate. He asked out every single girl he saw.
He seemed to particularly like asking me. Maybe he thought he stood a chance since we were both outcasts. Needless to say, I tried my hardest to avoid him.
"Hi! My name's Tucker. Tucker Foley. That's TF as in Too Fine!"
Avoiding him didn't seem to work. He followed me everywhere, blabbering about anything and everything.
" . . . You know, there's a dance next weekend and I was wondering . . ."
"No." I cut him off. "I'm not going to the dance."
That shut him up for the rest of the period.
Danny
I don't know why she let me out of the Thermos. She waited for a while, I think. I have no sense of time, but I'm pretty sure an hour or two had passed. I now found myself in a large room, what appeared to be a library or an office. It was very nice, graced with a thick carpet and furnished with luxurious armchairs. There were rows upon rows of bookcases, all stuffed with books which overflowed onto the many coffee tables. The ghost hunter that had captured me was standing across from me in the largest open space in the room.
The ghost hunter stared at me lovingly. That confused the heck out of me. She hunted ghosts, I am a ghost. So why was she setting me free? And smiling?
"Why are you letting me go?"
Whatever she was expecting it hadn't been that. The smile left her face. For the first time, I was scared. Should I run away?
"Danny?" She looked worried. "Is something wrong?"
She knew my name. How did she know my name? Did she know me when I was alive? I had spent the last two months wondering who I was, could she answer my questions?
"Who are you?" I didn't let the panic and hope reach my voice. "How do you know my name?"
She placed her head in her hands before sinking into one of the nearby armchairs. The ghost hunter seemed to have an internal struggle for a few minutes before she raised her face to stare me in the eyes. She was angry. She was crying.
"Danny, why are you doing this to me?" She sobbed. "Why did you leave?"
I stood there gaping at her. I left her? I didn't remember that. I was hurting her feelings, in a weird detached way I realized that.
"I'm sorry." I averted my eyes and glanced at the floor. "I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry." I did feel sorry, but the emotion was distant. I was dead; emotions didn't come easy to me.
"You don't remember anything do you?" She had stopped crying for the moment and was staring at me hopelessly.
I took a deep breath. I didn't need to breathe, but taking a breath before saying something was a habit I think I had picked up when I was alive.
"I remember waking up two months ago." I chose my words carefully in hopes of keeping the ghost hunter calm. "And I decided to haunt that girl's house. I remember that my name is Danny. That's all."
"Her name is Sam." The woman said automatically.
"Sam." I tested out the word before nodding approvingly. "That's a good name."
She sighed again, getting out of the chair; she bushed herself off briskly before going over me with a critical eye.
"Well then, I guess we have a lot of work to do." Her smile returned, but it was shaky this time. "My name is Jasmine Fenton, but you can call me Jazz." I nodded. She had mentioned her name earlier. She hesitated before continuing. "I was, am, your sister."
"Oh." That surprised me, again in a detached way. Emotions confused me. I don't think ghosts can feel emotions very well. Also, as far as I was concerned, I had only existed for two months and didn't have much experience. "I guess that makes me Danny Fenton." Jazz smiled and nodded approvingly.
"The only problem is you're considered dead." I blinked. Wasn't I dead? "You're going to have to get a different last name if you want to go to school."
"Why would I go to school?" My head was spinning from all the information I had just received. The weird hints she was dropping about me not being dead were not helping my confusion level. "I'm dead. No one cares."
She grinned broadly and shook her head. "Danny, Danny, Danny." She chided, "You have a lot to learn."
Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I really appriciate it! I would also like to thank my proofreader, my sister, and my friends who encouraged me to write this even though they haven't been reading it.
I update each Tuesday, earlier if I get reviews.
-Gryph