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Based on a true story. My true story. And, as it's 4:26 in the morning and I'm still not entirely convinced what I saw wasn't real…


Memory of a Maybe
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria


April 1
4:26 am

riiiing

riiiing

riiiing

Hello?

You've reached the voicemail of the psychiatric offices or Dr. Spectra and Associates. We are not available to take-

Damn it.

-this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911. Otherwise, leave a message and-

Yeah, yeah, I know.

-your call. Thank you!

Um, Dr. Spectra?

beeeeep

Damn it. Ah… Dr. Spectra? This is… yeah, you know who this is. Who else calls you at four in the freaking morning, right? Yeah, well, it happened again, you know? I was just wondering if I could talk to you. Talk it out, you know, so I could get back to sleep?

But you're not there, are you? That's why the message machine picked up. If you were there, you probably wouldn't take the call anyways. I know how sick of me you are.

Well, um… I'll just talk to the machine. You can listen to this when you get the chance, maybe call me back? I'd really appreciate it. It can't wait until morning, I'm already forgetting what happened and I know it's really important. I'd write it down if I could, but you know me…

It's about… about… that ghost kid. You know, the one you're always asking me about? I think… I think I just saw him. In my bedroom.

I know you're probably rolling your eyes, but I seriously did. Or at least I think I did. He was just here! I swear!

See, it was really cold – freezing cold, like I'd forgotten to close the freezer door. I was huddled under blankets and I'd gotten up a few times to make sure I'd remembered to close my window. You know how nice it was yesterday? I opened my window to let in some fresh air. And it still gets really cold at night, so I figured maybe it was open.

Um… it wasn't. Open. So I just went back to sleep, right? Only I never really got back to sleep after I realized it was so cold. My whole apartment was kind of creepy. I get those pictures in my mind, you know that. Axe murderers and crazy rapists and giant bullmastiffs and things, and I couldn't sleep with them in there.

I know, I know, I should have called you then. But I couldn't get out of bed to get the phone. There was something strange in my apartment.

You'd be proud of me though, Dr. Spectra. I think I did get some sleep at one point. A lot of time passed between glances at my alarm clock. Maybe I was still asleep when it happened. Maybe it really didn't happen at all and I'm just a crazy person talking to an answering machine. That's possible.

Especially since I already know I'm crazy. But you wanted to hear this… I think.

Anyways, I was in that fuzzy half-asleep state when sometimes you think you see things that aren't really there. Have you ever experienced that? I get it all the time. Sometimes I wonder if that's the only time you can really see things and people just convinced themselves that it's not real later.

I heard my name being called. Mine, my name. It was this echoing, distant sound, like someone was calling at me from a long ways away, which didn't make sense because my bedroom's really kind of small. But I rolled over and looked up to see who it was.

It was this kid, moving side-to-side next to my bed. He was moving really weirdly, Dr. Spectra. This strange motion that stole away the features on him for a moment when he moved before they solidified again. And there's no way his feet could have been touching the ground because nobody who was walking could move that quickly and smoothly.

You know I don't have any kids, so I should have wondered, but it just made sense at the time. There was a teenager standing over my bed and saying my name, just like I used to do to my parents when I wasn't feeling well.

The poor kid looked half-asleep. I remember his white hair was dangling in his green eyes and a yawn looked like it was going to break out of him any moment. But this is the weird part, Dr. Spectra: I can barely remember what he looked like, his face and body. I know he had white hair and green eyes. And black clothes… but what the style was is already gone; I don't remember it. It's like a dream that's fading almost as fast as it happened.

I saw him, Dr. Spectra, but I couldn't pick him out of a crowd anymore and it's only been ten minutes! The pictures are all gone from my head. Isn't that weird?

I think I was supposed to be afraid of those green eyes. I remember, in those moments when he was staring at me, that they were inhuman and terrifying. I knew I should have been scared of them, to huddle away in my blankets and beg to be left alone.

But I didn't. There's something wrong with me, Dr. Spectra. I looked into those eyes and I saw something, something I can't ever explain, and I wasn't afraid. I knew that I was supposed to be afraid… but not of this kid. Not scared of him.

He spoke to me. "Can I use your bathroom?"

Had I been truly awake, I probably would have wondered why this strange ghost-kid was asking me a question like that. Of course he couldn't use my bathroom, he was a ghost and a stranger. But I nodded, Dr. Spectra. Why did I do that?

…I actually talked to him. I'm probably one of the few people on the planet who can say they've talked to a ghost – the ghost-kid Phantom, nonetheless. I can't believe I actually said something to him, and it was something so stupid too. "What are you doing out of bed, it's four in the morning?"

Can you believe I said that? How stupid am I?

The ghost shook his head, didn't even answer my question. But maybe ghosts don't really pay attention to us humans. Maybe he didn't hear what I said at all. "I just need to use your bathroom," he insisted, his voice watery and distant. "Can you stay out of it for a few minutes?"

I must have said yes because he vanished – that strange sliding-flying-walking motion – and it was over. He was just gone.

Dr. Spectra I know you'll think I'm crazy, but I wanted to follow him. That can't have been it, there had to be more to it than that. All of this time, all of this work I've done, and it can't be over in some split-second, I'm-not-even-awake-for-it moment!

I didn't follow him though, not at first. I just sat up, wrapping my blankets around me, and stared at the bedroom door. It was closed and I'd never heard it open; the ghost must have walked right through it.

That was when the shock came. I was sitting perfectly still and yet, suddenly, it felt like I'd been zapped by a dozen static shocks all at once. My entire body shuddered and I bit my tongue. You don't think I need to call an ambulance for that, do you? I don't think it's bleeding…

Anyways, that's when I noticed the cold was gone. Remember how I was checking my window? The freezing was just not there. Within seconds, my apartment went from frozen to warm again.

That's when I had to follow him, Dr. Spectra. I had to see what had happened. I walked over to my bedroom door and touched it. It was cold! Really, really cold, like the center of the door was frozen like ice.

When I pushed it open, I swear I saw him, just for a moment. There were two glowing eyes and this white-haired boy sitting in my hallway, fiddling with something silver in his lap. But there wasn't anything really there. Just… like a memory or an image or something.

Dr. Spectra, it's like 4:45 now, and I don't know what to think. Every moment that passes I think more and more that maybe it was just a dream. Just my crazy mind coming up with something I really wanted to see but that wasn't ever there.

You know what the weirdest thing is? Why I chose to call you this morning? I found your business card in my bathroom, Dr. Spectra, and this strange little burn-

beeeeep

The voice mailbox you are calling has reached its limit. Please hang up and dial again.


Uploaded April 1, 2010
This ghost in my half-dream this morning was about eight-nine years old, African-American,
and wore yellow-checkered flannel PJs. It was weird. It was very very weird.
Thanks for reading.