-hums- this is kind of sad...I guess. NO, she's not saying that to Danny. Just thought I'd say that before you guys freaked out on me.

...no, Dani is not Dani Phantom. Malik is a gay dipwad that is only present for like this chapter. Promise. ; Dani is my only OC...I had to add her, I'm sorry...lol! I hope you guys like...

Disclaimer: Can I just skip this? You already know Danny Phantom and all characters/creations is owned by our God Butch Hartman.

—Sixteen Years Later—

Sam twirled her hair around her finger absently. Her husband, Malik, was late again. She didn't really care, though.

For six years only one thing had really excited her, but it had also depressed her. The birth of her daughter, Danielle. She called her Dani for short, in memory of Danny. Dani was ten years old, and the love of her life—literally.

She had gotten married only to please her parents, and had clung to him for the first six years of their marriage like a lost puppy. For the first six years after Danny's death, she was an emotional wreck—she wouldn't go out of the dorm (other than for classes), or anything of the sort.

So, when a mysterious young man came to her college, and he looked so very much like Danny, she fell instantly in love. Or, what she wished was love. Malik, she hoped, didn't love her—she didn't want to break his heart.

They had gotten married officially when Dani was five. She, instead of moping around and clutching a picture of Danny all the time, was now clinging to Malik like a lost puppy, drinking in his obvious love for her as if he were a beverage.

Dani was a replica of Danny also. Same dark hair, same blue eyes—obviously the gene was from Sam's father, the hair from both of them—the same clothing style almost too. Except she was gothic, just like her mother before her. She wore black, baggy jeans, black and red shoes, and a black shirt with a red circle.

Sam stared at her daughter who was reading a book for school, and examined the tiny little bat necklace around her neck. The tiny little rubies that were its eyes glittered at her as if they wanted to kill her or something. Her long hair was pulled back in a tight pony tail that flew with her head as it turned.

Dani looked up, her black-rimmed eyes shining with emotion. "This book is so sad, mom," she choked out. The one thing that wasn't at all like Danny—her love for school. "The guy was shot, and the girl lived on without him. She never even got remarried."

Sounds like Danny and I, Sam thought dismally. She frowned sympathetically for her daughter. "Aw, sugar, that's so sad!"

"I know!" Dani nearly hollered. Sam glanced at the clock. It was nine thirty, and Dani had fifth grade to attend the next day.

"But, Dani, put down the book. It's time to go to sleep," Sam coaxed. Dani pouted.

"Can't I bring up the book?"

"No! You'll be reading all night." Dani laughed.

"Yeah, you're right," she responded sheepishly. She put her anime bookmark in the book and placed it on the coffee table. She slowly got up and stretched. "Lemme go get ready," she told Sam. Sam nodded and went back to staring out the window again.

Dani clunked up the stairs. Mom's so depressed, Dani thought miserably. She rummaged through her drawers and picked out her favorite pajama's—pink, black, and white pants with skulls and hearts on them, and a black shirt with white lettering that said "You're just jealous because the voices only talk to me." She untied her hair and let it tumble around her.

Slowly she walked to the bathroom, already rubbing off the eye smudge with a tissue. She brushed her teeth slowly, wiggling her toes under the counter as she did so.

I wonder why she's so sad, Dani wondered. As she put her toothbrush away, a strange idea occurred to her—read her diary.

Dani knew Sam had kept a diary ever since she was a little girl. Dani bit her lip, but the curiosity won over the goodness of her heart. She slowly slinked into the darkened bedroom, and opened up the drawer that she held all her diary's in.

She knew not to take the one that wasn't labeled, so she decided to take the one that said "ages ten to fifteen." That was at least in her age-range.

Running to her room, she tucked it under her mattress. She ran back downstairs and hopped in front of her mom. "Kay, ready!"

Sam smiled as she kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams," she whispered. Dani nodded and ran back up the steps. Normally Sam would tuck her in, but she was waiting for Malik.

Dani climbed into the bed and began to flip through the pages. She found one from when she was thirteen—eighth grade—and began to read it, out of sheer curiosity.

Dear Diary,

I think I'm getting a crush on Danny! He's been my friend for so long! How can I have let myself get a crush on him? Am I that stupid? It seems like all I can think about is him. But I can't tell anyone…they'll all make fun of me…

Dear Diary,

Before those jokes that Danny and I were going out would annoy me, but now they make my heart flutter with hope. Okay, I know I sound straight from a romance movie or novel, but it's true! When you love someone…you feel as if you don't deserve it. It feels so nice to love him. I kind of don't want the feeling to end.

Dani didn't necessarily want to read about her mom's love-interests—after all, Dani was hardly what you would call "boy crazy"—so she flipped through. One journal entry, however, really caught her attention. Her hand script was really big.

Oh my God!

You know how Danny's parents are "ghost hunters" or WHAT EVER? Well…we were checking out their latest invention—a ghost portal thingy—and it wouldn't work, so I told Danny to check it out…and…and…he went in, accidentally hit the "on" button…AND TURNED INTO A GHOST! Okay…not technically a "ghost"…more or less a "half ghost" but OH MY GOD…how much crazier can you get? He's really messed up. Fading through the ground, and stuff…

Dani stared at the page. Did she say…ghost? But ghosts don't exist! Dani tried to play it off as a figment of her imagination, but the following entry's were all on fighting ghosts with Danny—and also on how much she was growing to love him. Dani thought for a moment that it was all a joke, or a story, but Sam had told her she hated writing when Dani had asked. So the only other explanation was…that it was true.

A little further in, another entry really caught her attention. It was stained with tears, the ink in some places smudged but still legible.

…

Danny died.

Yeah. Danny died. Remember…remember his older-self, Dan? Well…the jerk killed him! And it's all my fault, too. Vlad called me and told me to take Danny to the mall and take him into the back alleyway, and I did, and Dan and him were waiting to kill him. Dan said he was sparing me because he said he'd rather me live without Danny than anything else. Oh, diary…I…I can't believe Danny died! They can't figure out who killed him…but they've decided I can't have killed him…which makes me…relieved…Danny's last words were "I love you"…I don't know if he heard my response, but I sure hope he did…I told him I loved him too.

Danny…oh, Danny…I don't even want to write anymore…

Dani stared dumbly at the journal. Her friend was killed? By himself? That made no sense! But in way, it also made sense. She read the following entries, all starting with "Dear Depression" now.

Dear Depression,

Life is nothing to me anymore. Without Danny…I can't do anything with myself! I can hardly eat! I guess it's true…you don't know what you had 'till you've lost it.

Danny…I miss you…I wish I had the courage to have saved you…and risked my own life…oh, Danny…

Dear Depression,

Here are the pictures of Danny from the newspaper. Dan did all that. Also, they're theory of what happened is there too. THEY THINK DANNY KILLED HIMSELF! All because they can't find any DNA other than mine. And they've already done tests on him and they know I didn't kill him.

But I think I did kill him.

Dear Depression,

You are talking to a murderer.

Dear Depression,

Life is just the space before we all die. It means nothing at all. We are born, and we all die. There is no point to life. It just is.

Dear Depression,

Depression consumes.

Dear Depression,

Depression is anger without the enthusiasm…but I have both…'cause I'm angry at myself as well as depressed…

HOW COULD I HAVE LET HIM DIE?

Dear Depression,

I'm hunting ghosts now…for the Fenton's…and to also honor Danny's wish that I help protect Amity Park…Danny…help me…

Dear Depression,

I was just looking around in the ghost zone for Danny in the Fenton Speeder. Maddie and Jack abandoned ghost hunting when they found out Danny was the ghost kid, so they let me use they're lab a lot now. Lucky me.

I couldn't find him. I looked so hard…but he wasn't there. Is there another place ghosts can go to? How I hope its heaven…maybe he's finally at peace.

Dear Depression,

I miss Danny. I have shut out everyone in my life. I'm actually concentrating on school. I can't talk to Tucker without getting tears in my eyes—he reminds me too much of Danny. He wants to grieve with me…but no one can understand because no one loved him as much as I loved him. And I'm positive on that fact. His parents could have loved him almost as much, but the love from two different people is different from the love for someone with the same genes.

I miss Danny…
Dear Depression,

I'm done with this diary now, as you see. I'm on the last page. Goodbye, and I'll see you in my next one. Maybe I won't be as depressed

(but don't get your hopes up).

Dani stared at the end of the diary. The last ten pages were littered with articles on Danny Phantom—the ghost kid of Amity Park.

Obviously, Sam wasn't lying. Ghosts were real. She read through them, of how Danny was a savior, a killer, a savior again, and then revealed as the child of the city's human ghost-hunters. Sam did an article on him and how everything happened, which Dani read intently. Dani was crying.

She realized now that she was named after Danny. She didn't mind it, but she wanted to meet her would-be father desperately.

Sam, who was downstairs, jumped to her feet as she heard the keys click in the lock. Malik was home.

He walked through the door, five hours late, his black hair matted against his face. He glared at Sam as she walked behind him, her hands twiddling together.

"God, Sam, leave me alone," Malik mumbled. Sam glared right back at him.

"You worried me," Sam told him. Malik shot her his "I hate you" stare, the one where his black eyes penetrated your whole heart. But it didn't work on Sam this time. "Get out, Malik."

Malik exploded. "YOU'RE TELLING ME TO GET OUT?" Malik roared. "YOU'RE THE ONE THAT'S A LIFELESS SHELL! I SHOULD BE SCREAMING AT YOU TO GET OUT!"

Sam met his anger but didn't scream. "You have been coming home late for the past two years," she told him coldly. "I know you're having an affair. Get out."

Malik's face turned red. "You're never even here! You're so depressed, I can't even talk to you sometimes! You have no time for me! No wonder I'm getting angry!"

"Get out!" Sam told him angrily. Malik tromped past her, pushing her out of the way in a huff.

"Fine," he told her coldly. "Have a nice life moping around the house without me. Tell Dani I said I love her and I'm sorry I'm leaving her with you."

"I'm sorry I tortured her with you for so long," Sam snapped back as Malik climbed the steps. Five minutes later, he was down with a suitcase full of all his stuff.

"Salutations," he snarled.

"Good riddance," Sam snarled back as he shut the door in her face.

Sam collapsed to the floor. For the first time in a very long time…she was actually rather happy. She felt good—she had hated Malik after her lost puppy faze, and needed to get rid of him. She breathed in, and let it out slowly, enjoying the feeling that the weight of dread had been lifted from her chest.