"Please, Mom?" She sighed.

"Fine, but I want you to text me when you get there and I want you back before sundown. You hear me, young man?"

"Crystal clear! Thanks Mom!"

I was finally free. After being cooped up at home for the past week (during summer break too!) I was itching to get outside. Though, to be fair, my parents weren't exactly overreacting. Sure, the portal accident gave them a big scare, but I needed freedom. I was fine.

No, you're not.

Maybe.

Ever since the portal accident the image of white hair, neon green eyes, and otherworldly glow has burned itself into my mind-haunting me every time I sleep or blink. I see it every time there's darkness, and it scares me.

I've told Sam and Tucker about this, but they only seem to listen half-heartedly and stare at the ground.

I would be lying if I said that the portal didn't do anything to me, because it did. For the first two days I felt so cold—still do, now that I think about it—but the strange thing is that while I feel it throughout my body, the center of it was in my chest. Jazz brushed my hand a couple of days ago and said "Jeez, Danny, you're as cold as ice!" Naturally this scared the pants off Mom and Dad, but they eventually just brushed it off as a side effect of the accident.

As of today it's been exactly one week since the accident. Things have settled down a bit, which is probably why I'm allowed out. But they probably wouldn't have if they knew how I was really feeling.

To be honest, I feel like I'm getting sick. My head is pounding and I feel…tight? I don't know. I feel like I'm a dam waiting to explode or something. Like there's a sort of tension within me, but I don't know how to release it.

So with a semi-fake enthusiastic smile plastered to my face, I left FentonWorks.

Sam and Tucker were already waiting for me on the front steps.

"Danny!" Sam said, hugging me tightly. I felt a small blush creep onto my face (and cue an eyebrow wiggle from Tucker), but it quickly receded as I felt my stomach clench. And no, I don't mean that in a lovey-dovey sense, I mean it—oh GOD.

I doubled over, the stabbing sensation increasing tenfold. Sam and Tucker reached out for me, catching me and lowering me to the ground so I didn't hurt myself. My breathing became more labored and sweat began to trickle down my forehead as I hugged myself.

Here it comes.

"A-alleyway!" I whisper harshly. My eyes are closed tightly due to the pain, but I can feel Sam and Tucker dragging me away from the street. My body feels like ice and everything feels so heavy. Opening my eyes to look at Sam and Tucker was definitely not worth it—their panicked expressions only increased my anxiety and made my exhaustion worse.

"...wrong Danny?" I couldn't find the words, nor could I understand what Sam was saying.

Let go.

Another stab of cold wormed its way into the center of my chest, and I screamed. I didn't care how loud I was because I felt like I was dying. Again.

Despite this being the second time in a little over a week, this felt almost as bad as the portal accident. It felt as though my insides were simultaneously melting and freezing. It felt so wrong.

I felt myself go rigid as electricity crackled and snapped all around my body. I heard Sam and Tucker yell in surprise, but they were muffled and seemed almost…distant. I gave another scream as the electricity surged, and then, nothing.

I lay sprawled out against the alleyway, my voice hoarse from screaming and tears sliding down my cheeks.

"Danny!" I opened my eyes, instantly regretting it when sunlight made my eyes burn (weird, it hadn't before). I tried calling for Sam, but nothing escaped my mouth. Not a sound.

"Danny, oh God Danny, p-please just look at me." Sam and Tucker's eyes were red and puffy from fresh tears and they huddled around me. Wait.

I'm not breathing.

My hands flew to my throat and I made gagging sounds. But…I didn't feel anything in my throat. I tried breathing, this time manually.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong!

I released the air immediately. I looked down at myself, realization dawning on me when I saw the too-familiar inverted hazmat suit.

What happened after the accident wasn't an illusion.

Not breathing.

I raised my hand to my chest.

No heartbeat.

I looked up to Sam and Tucker—the fear and sadness in their eyes told me they knew the same thing.

I died. But I'm still alive. I look human but I'm not anymore. And, most importantly:

We can't tell anyone.