Chapter 10: Danny

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 271
Comments: 3

Danny looked everywhere for his “Danny Phantom” outfit. In the show, however, the transition was an automatic wardrobe change as his hair turned white, eyes turned green, and wore a  big ‘D’ in the middle of his ghostly black outfit; grey sleeves finished the ensemble. However I, no matter how hard I tried, couldn’t shift like Danny. So perhaps, I thought, the only way I could “go ghost” like Danny was to wear the same outfit he did when he transitioned. My search at my moms house was futile, but I had to push forward and find something, so I extended my search to my dads house.

 

“Dad, have you seen a black and grey longsleeved shirt anywhere? I brought it here once and I might’ve left it…”

The burly man frowned, contorting his rugged black beard as it hugged the outer edges of his lips and curved along the edges of his face. My father was big into supernatural things, especially ghosts, so there was a suspicion  inside me that wanted to say he was really Jack, Danny’s father. But I had little evidence to support that claim.

 

“No, I cant say I have. Try looking in your room, you might find something there.”

 

The room I stayed in was slightly bigger than my room at my mothers house, and housed clothes I outgrew as a child as well as hand-me-downs from my older brother; most of the time I would wear the same clothes I wore coming over everyday, as very few articles of clothing were my size. Nevertheless, I rummaged through each drawer, mounds of clothes stockpiling on the floor as I ruthlessly scavenged for an outfit. I was just about to give up the search when I set eyes on a black hoodie, with grey sleeves. All it needed to complete the ensemble was a branded “D”  in the middle of the shirt. My eyes lit up and my smile broadened as I tried putting it on. It fit nicely, almost as if it was tailored especially for me.

 

I knew in order to truly assume my ghostly form, I had to be light like one. So, suiting up in my lightest jogging pants, I stood in front of my mirror and assumed the same stance Danny did in the show.  Then, I said the magic words:

 

“I’m going ghost!”

 

I waited patiently for some kind of genetic change to occur. In the show, Danny’s eyes would turn a bright  neon green. But my eyes were still just regular  green. My hair wasn’t white either like his would be.

 

Whats going on? I thought, frustrated. Why cant I go ghost?

 

Maybe when you hit your head and saw the white flash, you automicallv detached your soul from your body, allowing you to roam freely as a ghost wherever you please. Therefore that speck you see is your free soul roaming around.

 

The suggestion came from a familiar voice that I thought had left long ago. It was IT, and IT’s voice  sounded a lot like mine. A smaller voice echoed in the background of IT

 

“Cmon Josh, this isn’t like you…wake up….!”

 

I opened my eyes for moment, realizing hat I was doing to myself

 

“You’re right…”

 

However, IT whispered in my ear, I don’t care. What is there to wake up to? I’m not dreaming. This was real.

 

But how would I prove it ? That was the lingering question in my mind. As a curious child, I grew up looking for reasoning to things. Even now, I believe everything has meaning. If it didn’t have some sort of meaning, I disregarded it as false. IT hated how difficult I was, but at the same time, I was gullible. It didn take much to convince me. Unfortunately, this gave me a trust complex. I learned throughout school that kids, and people in general, are very loose with their words. Promises were sacred to me, but given people and their sinful naure, they were ofte broken, twisted, and manipulated. People could take your own words and use it against you, and only hierarchy determned who would be believe what. So, I was slowly conditioning myself to expect it, and therefore trust no one.

 

“Ok then, I challenge myself to find undisputable proof.”

 

IT grumbled. “FINE!”

 

But where to begin? I Supposed the best place to start was my own father. In the show, his name was Jack. I needed to gauge my proof according to his reaction and response, that is, if he knew of or quite possibly even was Jack. Any man who hid a secret that big would no doubt show signs of hesitation. I needed to exploit it.

 

“Hey dad, does the name ‘Jack’ ring a bell?”

 

He stopped and thought for a moment. “Yeah, that’s our neighbor’s outdoor cat.”

 

Time froze in place, as I sat down and stared at the ground.

 

“Is everything ok son?” my dad asked, concerned.

 

Jack was a cat? What about Maddie, Jacks wife? Was she a cat too? And if so, what does that make me? Too many questions swirled madly in my head. I had to speak to Jack, that much I knew.

 

“Yeah.” I quickly ran outside, forgetting to put on my shoes. “Thanks!”

 

I looked around the vast expansion of  property and houses, searching for the cat. Jack never went very far, so I knew finding him wouldn’t be hard. But how was I going to talk to him? Then again, if he truly was my Father, we would no doubt understand each other, right? My voice of reason was mute, speechless as to what to say to me.

 

It didn’t take long to find my furry father figure. I approached slowly, watching as his brown and tan coat crawled along the grass. He must be looking for ghosts, I thought. Cats definitely had that sixth sense about them to know whether one was present or not. Nearly feet away, I made a few clicking noises to coax him over. Our eyes locked, and he looked into mine for a long time.

 

“Dad? Is that you?”

 

He trotted over to me and greeted me with a delicate nudge, brushing his fur against my skin, followed by a meow. I meowed back, smiling.

 

“Mrreow!”

 

I decided to press him for details, focusing the energy of his meows with the words I wanted to say.

 

“Is Danny your son?” I mused

 

Jack rubbed up against me. “Meow.”

 

“Am I your son, then?”

 

“Mrowreow!”

 

“Oh, so sylvesters your son? And he’s my spirit animal?”

 

“Mrow!”

 

Sylvester was my stepmom’s cat. He was the sweetest cat I’d ever seen, and loved to be picked up, unlike the female cats at my moms house. I thought about Sylvester’s fur, a beautiful blend of black and white, and how close a resemblance the colors were to danny phantom. Around the belly and paws was white fur, with black along majority of his face and all throughout his back. If Sylvester was my spirit animal, it would be through him that I would harness my ghost powers. So, I decided to pay Sylvester a visit.

 

As soon as I was inside the house, Sylvester greeted me at the door, tail wagging cutely. I began to talk to him in cat tongue, listening intently to his ‘wise words’

 

“Meowmeow meow?”

 

“Meow!”

 

He ran up the stairs. He must be showing me something! I thought

As he turned the corner, he jumped up on to the recliner, watching and waiting for me intently. I followed him, and continued to talk to him. Unfortunately, my father came in just in time to watch my acting a fool.

 

“Meowmeow!”

 

No response from the cat. The whole thing was getting me nowhere fast.

 

“Josh, what are you doing…?”

 

Dad had been watching me for a while, and while things were going smoothly the day before, he knew I was still not myself. A bit of arguing ensued, the typical ‘im not crazy, youre crazy for not believing me’ fight. I never won.

 

“It’s all those stupid meds she has you on!”

 

I grimaced. “Mom says the only time I show progress is when I take my meds.

 

My father held a strong viewpoint against drugs. Part of me reflected that, while the other  sided with my mom. I couldn’t pick a side, and chose not to.

 

“And have you? He mused.

 

“Yes.”

 

He was being very direct in his approach; he was desperate to expose meds for their harm, and not see the good.

 

“Well what did you see?

 

I thought for a moment. I never really stopped to just think about how the drugs made me feel, I just took them. I was so used to popping pills that it was second nature to me.

 

“I don’t know, they help I guess.”

 

“I guess? You don’t know for sure?” He questioned. He knew he would get his desired answer very soon.

 

“Well…” I stumbled on my word as I spoke “no…not really. I just..feel like a lab rat y’know? When I wake up and take pills in the morning, I just feel constricted in the brain, like its killing good cells.

 

 

“Well, tell your mom that.” He muttered quietly to himself. “ I told her putting you guys on meds wasn’t the answer.”

 

 But my mom insisted I let the drugs kick in. It was not a matter of time, but a matter of faith. I recalled my situation at the clinic. The copius amounts of drugs they had me take had me in a zombie-like trance, and I knew, even though I couldn’t fight it, that any delusions and strange thoughts I had were not real, nothing but a sideaffects. I knew drugs weren’t the answer, but I preferred to stay quiet rather than start an argument with my mom I knew I wouldn’t win.

 

While I relaxed and played videogames with my brother, my father was having another lovely conversation with my mother on the phone.

 

“These pills are not working! He’s getting worse! This is all your fault. If you had just listened to me and not put him on so much medication, he wouldn’t be in this mess!”

 

“Rick, the pills were the only thing helping him. Without them, he’d still be at Harbor Oaks.”

 

My mom tried very hard to have passive conversations with my father, but my mom was stubborn, and my father was a ticking time bomb. It didn’t take much to make him explode.

 

“Your precious pills are what made him manic in the first place!”

 

“No, it was a lot of things! Hes still going through puberty too, and the stress of school was too much for him!”

 

“Well, all I know is he was talking to our neighbors cat, and asked me if I’ve ever hunted ghosts.”

 

My mom paused. She didn’t think it was THAT bad.

 

“I’m telling you Beth, you better do something because these pills aren’t cutting it.”

 

My mom was in denial. Ever since prescription drugs became commonplace, she has abused them as a catch-all for illness and ailment. But drugs had side affects too. My father was certain it was the cause of all this.

 

“Well maybe they put him on the wrong meds and…”

 

My dad was sick of how my mom praised prescription drugs. He knew his child, and he knew drugs wasn’t the answer.

 

“No Beth, stop making excuses and go to an actual professional. Youre arent a doctor, so stop acting like one.”

 

With that he hung up the phone. Back  her house,  my mom tirelessly fought to find some kind of alternative to sticking me back in a mental clinic. Whether it was from a friend, a massage client, or by some other means, she found her answer at Michigan State. One  of my psychotherapists referred the place to her at one of our weekly meetings. The date was set. I was unhappy to be seeing yet ANOTHER therapist. My mom insisted.

 

“Josh, this isn’t just any clinic. These are college professionals.”

 

“I know, but you really don’t need to do all this. I’m fine.” I said, wearing my danny phantom outfit for the third day in a row.

 

“Josh, youre seeing ghosts and told me im maddie, a fictional character in a show yo watched as a kid. How can you say you’re fine?”

 

I was stubborn. There was no way I was going all the way to Michigan State.

 

“Mom, I’m not going.”

 

Mom broke out in tears, making it extremely hard to simply walk away.

 

“J-josh…I only want whats best for you…p-please…just give it a shot…”

 

My compassionate side kicked in as I immediately felt a wave of guilt wash over me. What could I say? No? No, that would make her cry harder. Sighing, I gave her a strong embrace and whispered between sobs:

 

“Okay…”



Submitted: June 08, 2015

© Copyright 2021 Joshua White. All rights reserved.

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Joshua White

Really dropped the ball on this one. Absolutely terrible.

Mon, July 6th, 2015 4:34pm

unmasked delusions

aw...the ending was sad but I like it. I like sad endings. I don't think you dropped the ball on this one, it's not bad at all, it's intriguing. Sure it's a little off course when compared to the main point of the story but it's good to have chapters like this once in a while, it reveals another part of the character even if it's just him being obsessed with this danny character. I laughed at the part where he thought the cat was his dad, yet it's sad at the same time. This story is strangely relateable, I'm a weird person I guess that's why...I don't have any mental problems but parts of me understand his thought process and stuff, especially when I was younger because I'd think the same sort of things...it's hard to explain. I would think I was certain characters but I wouldn't actually tell people or act it out. I would just pretend with myself. When I was younger I mostly did things alone, so I sorta got lost in my own little world, and it's was a strange one.hm... I just thought of these song lyrics, they came to mind while writing this comment, take a look:
"Mad Hatter"
My friends don't walk, they run
Skinny dip in rabbit holes for fun
Popping, popping balloons with guns, getting high off helium
We paint white roses red,
Each shade from a different person's head
This dream, dream is a killer
Getting drunk with a blue caterpillar
I'm peeling the skin off my face
'Cause I really hate being safe
The normals, they make me afraid
The crazies, they make me feel sane
I'm nuts, baby, I'm mad,
The craziest friend that you've ever had
You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone
Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong
Over the bend, entirely bonkers
You like me best when I'm off my rocker
Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed
So what if I'm crazy? The best people are
All the best people are crazy, all the best people are
Where is my prescription?
Doctor, doctor please listen
My brain is scattered
You can be Alice,
I'll be the mad hatter."

Fri, April 1st, 2016 5:34am

unmasked delusions

I know I left this comment forever ago (couple years) but I just came back to re-read this book and saw my old comment and it was bugging me; the lyrics I put were not made up by me but was just a song I used to like. Thought I'd make that clear (not my song) felt like I didn't make that clear back in 2016 lol. I know it's not even important and no one will care. I'm weird

Sun, July 8th, 2018 4:59am

Author
Reply

What you call weird I call unique. Great to hear from you again my friend :)

Wed, November 20th, 2019 11:29am

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