Disclaimer:I do not own danny phantom.

Sam walked home slowly. Even after three weeks that last argument was all she could

think of…

Flashback

"Why do you always have to be such a freak? Why can't you act normal just for once?"

screamed Pamela, Sam's mother, at Sam's latest Goth fashion statement. A black leather

collar with silver studs and a bronze double sided pendant, on one side was a skull and on

the other side was a phoenix. "Just because I don't conform to your image of the perfect

daughter doesn't mean that I'm a freak." Sam stated in a monotone. Ida, Sam's grand

mother, decided it was time to play the part of the peacemaker and so said "Girls, why

must you always be fighting?" "If she didn't always act like a freak we wouldn't be

fighting" Pamela spat acidly. "This is the way I choose to be and if you can't accept that

then I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to get over it. I'm not going to change who I

am for any one but me." Sam said in the same monotone that characterized all of her

conversations with her mother. Even as Pamela prepared another biting statement Ida

calmly raised her hand, palm out, halting both Pamela and Sam's angry words. Despite,

or perhaps because of, her great age and frailty she radiated a quiet strength of will

sufficient to halt the very march of the sun through the sky. "A compromise." Was all she

said as with her other hand she revealed an earring. It was a large stone of the palest pink,

easily the size of your thumbnail, with silver fittings. But what truly caught the eye about

the teardrop shaped stone was the bizarre flaw at its core. The flaw looked like an

obsidian heart. Pamela simply turned and walked out. Ida sighed and said "here take this,

I'll talk to her." before following her out.

End Flashback

Four hours later they were both dead. They had been riding in the limo. It was raining,

and a drunk driver broadsided them, collapsing the passenger compartment. Everyone

except for the chauffer was DOA, dead on arrival. The chauffer died the next day. The

blood alcohol content of Jacobi Michal, the drunk driver, was triple the fatal dose. He had

died prior to impact. The Manson's funeral had been held two weeks ago, exactly one

week after death keeping in the Manson family custom. Jeremy, Sam's father, had not

left his study since the funeral. Sam reached up and stroked the earring that her

grandmother gave her, as she looked at her home. It was strange how both she and her

home had changed with the deaths of her mother and grandmother. She now wore her

hair in her grandmother's style, jaw length and pulled back into a ponytail. In tribute to

her mother she wore the earring in her left ear and a dark red belt with simple Celtic

designs stitched in gold thread. She'd taken to wearing long sleeves and jeans more often

than not. In contrast, while she had picked up some color the mansion had lost its

cheerful facade. After all it was only Pamela's frantic obsession with appearances that

had kept the mansion from darkening. As Sam studied the mansion a confused look

crossed her face. Three weeks was far too short of a time for the mansion to fall into the

state it was in now. The paint was peeling in places, some of the windows were cracked,

and an all-pervading air of depression hung over the grounds of the manor. Sam entered

her home the same way she always had, quickly and quietly, though she now did so for

different reasons. Whereas before Sam had done so to avoid her mother, she now did so

to avoid all contact. As was normal she was caught within seconds of entering. The maid

had taken up Pamela's ambush point. "Miss Manson, your father wishes to speak with

you. He's in his study," was all the maid said before hurrying away. For a few moments

Sam just stood there in surprise, no one not even her mother went in Jeremy's study. He

hadn't even left the study. Sam broke into a run as she hurried towards the study.

DPDPDPDPDPDPDP

Jeremy sat in the darkness of the study waiting. A smile briefly flashed across his face as

he recalled the shocked face of the maid when she saw him in the hall that morning. He

sighed and called out, "Enter," when he heard Sam knock. The door creaked softly as she

opened it. Sam's eye quickly took in the ordered chaos of the room then locked on the

side table by the chair Jeremy sat in. More specifically what sat on the table; a small

wooden bowl, and a carefully folded towel with a surgical scalpel resting on it. "Dad,"

she asked in a worried tone. "There are things about this family that you were never told

little wraith, things your mother didn't want you to know," he responded in a tired voice,

"Do you wish to learn this families secrets?" "Why," Sam hesitated her eyes still on the

scalpel, "Why didn't Mom want me to know?" Jeremy held his right hand up, a key

clutched loosely in his fingers, "There is an abandoned mansion on the other side of

town, locked within is the answer and this is the key. Take it; it and the mansion are

yours." Sam's worry grew as she took the key from her father. "You going to be ok Dad,"

she asked the full extent of her concern evident in her voice? "You're worried about

suicide. Don't be, my will to survive is to strong for me to even attempt… Besides,

there's still a reason for me to live." Jeremy said with a dark grin. Sam suddenly wrapped

her father in a hug, pressing her face into his shirt. He returned her embrace, rubbing her

back and whispering, "I love you to my little wraith." After a few minutes Sam pulled

away and left Jeremy alone once more. Calmly, he spread the towel over his lap. Placing

the bowl in his lap and taking the scalpel in his hand he whispered into the darkness,

"Forgive me Pamela but she must be given The Choice." And then…he began to cut.

hey as always tell me what you think R&R