HAPPY INTERNATIONAL DP-ANGST DAY! :D
A/N – so, it's DP-Angst day. Today is going to be filled with tear-jerker stories by some of the greatest authors in the Danny Phantom Fandom on fanfiction, deviantart, and all over the place. Who else is anxious to go browse the phandom as soon as your own story is updated? ME! Yeah. I'm excited :)
Uhm. So this is after TUE, only they all died. Angst is delicious.
Disclaimer – Nope. I don't own anything. Viacom does. Fuck Viacom.
You know how some days you feel totally and completely helpless, and there's nothing you can do to stop the pain that radiates throughout your entire body? Has everything around you ever come collapsing around you in simple seconds?
Yeah, welcome to my world.
If I had gotten there two freaking seconds earlier, if that stupid rock wasn't where it was, if it didn't trip me and force me to watch while my world exploded maybe I wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe I wouldn't be feeling as if it was entirely my fault that they were dead, because I wasn't quick enough to save them.
Bu so many things occurred in those two seconds. The rock was there, I did trip, and the only people I ever cared about were obliterated before my eyes.
I just wish that I had gotten a bit further. I could've died in that explosion with them, instead of having these suicidal thoughts in my head, because that's exactly what they would be classified as right now, standing on top of a building.
My building to be more accurate. I was feeling a rush of gratitude for my parents and their line of work, adding twenty feet to our already large building.
The memory of my parents brought a sharp pang to my stomach, and I leaned closer to the edge.
It's so hard to believe that I'd never see any of them again. My parents, Jazz, Tucker and Sam…
Oh, god. The only two normal beings on the planet that were able to understand every aspect of my life and they were gone; I'm not even sure of what to do with myself. I don't even think I'm still sane. Right now, on top of the giant Ops Center, a lot of the crazy that had been building up was showing.
I was alone at home all the time. There was never any music, nor television. I just didn't have the will to listen to anything anymore. Reason number one: I was stealing electricity from my neighbors. Reason number two: anything that made noise blocked out the hallucinated sounds that I heard. Every day I heard more and more reminders of my friends and family. Every night I could swear I heard my dad bellowing about some new invention, my sister's retorts against them, and my mother's reassurance that they weren't harmful to humans anyways. I heard Sam and Tucker barging in through the door, and dodging anything my dad threw at them to test out and grabbing a few of my mom's latest cookies on the way up to my room. And every time I heard this, I'd come rushing down pitifully, my face alight with hope, only to break down and cry at the opening of the kitchen when I saw that it was just some other imagined conversation.
I know what Sam would say if she saw me here. She'd call me stupid, or an idiot, and she'd probably accuse me of being on some kind of drug. She'd beg for me to step back away from the ledge, and I would come. She'd hug me at first, and then cheerfully beat me to a pulp for scaring her like that, rare tears falling down her cheeks.
Tucker wouldn't say much. He'd tell me what I was doing was wrong, and to think about what me jumping off a building would do to everyone, especially Sam, because even then he wouldn't miss a chance to shoot another lovebird joke, probably hoping to lighten up the mood to have me walk back. At least in this case he would've been helping.
Once again, the wind was knocked out of me as another pang hit me in the stomach. There was no one here to stop me now.
I shuffled closer, my toes curling over the metal of the Ops center. It was unusually cold out tonight, and the breeze that blew by me made violent shivers run down my spine. I paid little attention to it though; the weather held no concern for me. It was either this, or me moving in with dear old Uncle Vlad. My idea was getting better and better. Only marginally, though, I could almost hear Sam's frantic voice and Tucker's monotone.
And then there was a choir in my head, Sam and Jazz in the lead. My dad's booming voice was in harmony with my mother's as memories of them flooded into my mind, like her crazy cousins and the "Divorce" or my mom coming up with new cookie recipes. The way they took lead during the ghost invasion with Pariah Dark. The way he and her completely kicked ass together, even if it was my ass they were kicking. And most of all, those cheesy lovey-dovey moments they refused to save for when they were alone.
Jazz's voice came in next, pushy and overprotective as always. She knew about the secret all along. Those funny things she did finally made sense. She knew what I was out doing every night. The strange glint in her eye was because she was the only one who realized that I always came home limping, or that my shirt never entirely covered the bruises I always got from Skulker or Technus. Which brought another thought to my head.
What had she been thinking when she found out I had the answers?
Goddammit. Why was I doing this to myself? Bringing back the most painful of the memories that I had of my family was never going to help me. I came up to the roof with one intention: jump. Now I wasn't sure what to do.
I felt sick and ashamed. I kept thinking that they were lucky. They had felt no pain, they hadn't suffered at all, even if it was never their time to leave the world forever. It repulsed me. I was left broken and unfixable. It kind of reminded me of that stupid nursery rhyme.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall…
I had been on a wall. But instead of me falling off, instead of me leaving them as I faced the evil that I had brought upon us, they took it head-on. And I crumbled underneath them.
I forgot why I hesitated on my jump. If anything, the pain of hearing their voices made me feel worse, and maybe if I left this world, I'd meet them in the next…
I smiled through the fresh tears on my cheeks and walked over the edge.
A/N – I don't think I should write angst anymore. It's definitely not my forte, lol :D
Happy International DP-Angst Day, guys! (I'm gunna go read some more angsty goodness)
-skitzo