"To know that one has a secret is to know half the secret itself."
-Henry Ward Beecher
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Danny rolled over in his bed, the sharp pains of his anxiety slightly numbed by the Xanax. He pulled out the lined papers that were filled with all of the evidence; he kept them in between his mattress and box spring for safe keeping. He wrote every day now, he had to staple the papers together because there were so many. There had to be at least twenty pages.
He grabbed his pencil and began today's story.
Saturday, April 13, 3:06 A.M.
Today—well, yesterday—was my first psychologist appointment. I knew the day would come. It was horrible. Vlad taunted me pretty much the entire time. When the doctor left the room for a moment, he started mocking me. He made himself invisible to humans, but I could see him, because you know, I'M NOT HUMAN. I yelled at him really loud: "Just get out of here!" And at that moment, my parents and the doctor walked into the room and saw me yelling at the invisible Vlad. They believe that I am crazy now.
I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and depression. Mom and Dad were really upset because they didn't know why I had post-traumatic stress. They were also really upset because I am depressed. The doctor gave me some pills to treat them, but I don't think they're going to work if Vlad keeps on doing what he's doing. I hope they don't do the research and realize that the problems I have are connected to rape.
Sam and Tucker called me last night and asked if I wanted to hang out today—well, later today. I haven't been with them in so long. I miss them so much. I wish I could have my old life back. But they're worried about me too. And by the way they sounded, I feel like this hang-out is just going to be them trying to figure out what's wrong with me. But they can't figure it out! They're going to come over my house. I feel like Jazz will be watching me the entire time.
Sometimes I don't even know why life's worth living anymore. I've lost the trust of everyone because of the horrible lies I have to tell every day. I'm so sick of lying. I would be better off dead. All the secrets I have to keep are basically killing me mentally...all I would have to do is finish myself off physically.
Maybe I'll overdose on those pills they gave me.
I'm gonna think about it.
Danny sighed and slid the papers back underneath his mattress.
Vlad didn't snatch him from his room last night, and Danny knew that he had to be up to something. Would he do something today? Would he find the papers Danny had been writing about?
Even though writing everything down made Danny feel better, the papers were basically his family's tickets to their graves...if Vlad ever found them.
He rolled over and silently got out of bed. He tip-toed to the mirror and noticed a crack in the middle, where his face reflected. Phantom stared back at him, and whispered;
"It sums you up perfectly, Danny...you're broken."
He knew that he was hallucinating, but the words were true.
He was broken.
From the dead eyes to the sunken skin, the boy staring back at him was broken.
What happened to the confident, cocky boy that flew around Amity Park without a care in the world?
What happened to the happy, carefree ghost kid that defended the town from evil?
What happened to Danny?
He flopped back down onto his bed, and fell in and out of sleep until the Sun gleamed through his window.
Morning came too quickly. Danny had no motivation to get out of bed. Sam and Tucker were coming at one, so he didn't have to get up right now. He just wanted to hide in the warmth and safety of his blankets...
...For the rest of his life.
He buried himself in a mess of comforters and pillows. For a few hours, it was peaceful. He imagined his old life. The thought of taking it for granted caused a physical ache inside of him. But still, he daydreamed of flying around, kicking ghost's butts with his friends.
Jazz ended the daydream.
"Danny," Jazz shook him. "It's almost noon! Why aren't you out of bed yet?"
"No law against it." Danny mumbled.
"Aren't Sam and Tucker coming at one?"
"Yes."
"Then you need to get up!"
"No."
"You need to take your medicine."
"No."
Jazz groaned. She tried to pull the blankets off, but Danny was stronger than he looked. He slid deeper beneath his comforter.
"Come on little bro," Jazz sighed. "Will you at least look at me?"
Jazz got a glimpse of one exhausted blue eye, but it left as quickly as it came.
"I meant all of you." She said.
Danny groaned and jumped up from his bed. He forgot he still had his clothes and shoes on from the day before.
"Why are you still dressed?"
"No law against it." He hissed. Danny started walking out the door. Jazz spun him around and looked into his eyes.
"Why won't you tell us anything, Danny?" She asked quietly. As his sister held his shoulders, his glare disappeared and a sorrowful look crossed his features. Finally, he whispered;
"To protect you."
And he walked out without another word.
Jazz had to practically force him to eat some breakfast. After about fifteen minutes of arguing, Danny had finally agreed to take his pills.
One o' clock came, and Sam and Tucker knocked on the door. Danny was lying on the couch, pretending to watch T.V.
"Danny, your friends are here!" Jazz yelled. Before he could yell back something, Jazz whispered something to Sam and Tucker.
"If you guys find out anything, please let us know."
Sam and Tucker nodded, and then walked in the living room.
"Hey dude." Tucker said.
Danny gave them a weak smile and sat up. "Hey guys."
They took a seat.
"So, we heard you like, went to the psychologist yesterday..." Sam said, playing with the zipper on her hoodie.
"How did it go?" Tucker asked.
"It was...fine. I just—um, I didn't think I really needed to go..." Danny murmured.
'LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR,'
"Hmm..." Tucker mumbled.
"Oh, and uh, what's up with the ghosts? I haven't seen them around at all." Sam questioned suspiciously.
"I actually have no idea." Danny laughed weakly. "It's really weird. Maybe they've learned their lesson...?"
"Yeah, maybe...so, what have you been doing now that the ghosts are gone?" Tucker raised an eyebrow.
'SHIT.'
"...studying...?" Danny asked in a small voice.
'NICE ONE, FENTON.'
Sam threw her head back. Tucker groaned.
"What?" Danny asked.
"Dude, something's wrong with you, and we know what it is." Tucker said.
'Screwed, screwed, SCREWED...'
"Ugh! Nothing's wrong with me!"
"Yes there is." Sam stared at him.
Before Danny could say something in return, two piercing red eyes floated right above Sam and Tucker's heads. Danny knew instantly who they belonged to.
Danny tried to choke down his ghost sense. Holding it back caused him to shiver violently.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
Then, Vlad's fanged teeth showed, and they grinned sinisterly at him.
Danny bit back a scream.
Sam and Tucker glanced at each other, but then tried to talk to their friend again.
"Anyway...we think it may have something to do with..." Sam started, looking at Tucker.
Vlad's grin widened.
"...Vlad." Tucker finished.
All of the blood drained from Danny's face.
"W-What are you guys t-talking about?" Danny asked, trying not to hyperventilate.
Suddenly, two knives were floating in the air.
One above Sam's head; and the other above Tucker's head...
Danny gasped and shoved his friends out of the way. They crashed into the wall. The knives disappeared, and Danny swore he heard a laugh. He began shaking; his eyes were wide with fear.
"What the heck was that, Danny?!" Sam demanded. She and Tucker brushed off her clothes.
"I was just trying to move you out of the way!" He yelled.
"Out of the way of what...?" Tucker yelled, aspirated.
Danny knew he had said too much.
"Um, away from the piano..." Danny mumbled.
'IS THERE AN AWARD FOR BEING THE WORST LIAR IN HISTORY?'
"Forget it, Danny." Sam threw her hands up. "Just call us when you stop being so...like this."
Then they marched out the front door.
With tears clouding his eyes, he ran up to his room and threw himself on the bed.
A voice whispered in his ear.
"This isn't over." It said.
We all know who the voice belonged to.
