A/N: This story is based on the short story-turned-into-a-movie, The Love Letter. It was an awesome story/movie. Try to watch it sometime. What I mean by based on is that NOT EVERYTHiNG FROM THiS STORY ARE THE SAME AS THE ACTUAL ONE. Anyway, this might take a few chapters. MAYBE. :D We'll see. All you want is for it to get done, right? Well, ENJOY!

DiSCLAiMER: Err.. I don't own Danny Phantom OR The Love Letter. PLEASE DON'T SUE ME:D

DEDiCATiON: All those reviewers out there. Especially the ones who gave me hints on what I should do to become a better writer! I love you all, so much. :D

"Well, how about this one?" A soon-to-be Valerie Fenton asked her 25 year-old fiancé, Danny Fenton.

"Huh? Oh, I mean. Great! That dress would look perfect on you for the wedding." Danny smiled nervously, making it completely obvious that he wasn't paying attention.

Valerie gave him a smirk and returned to looking for the perfect wedding dress. Danny wasn't exactly having fun. Sure, he was with the one he loved, but he was also doing his least favorite thing, shopping. She, on the other hand, loved it. Danny thought it was just a tiny flaw in his so called 'perfect' relationship with Valerie. I mean, c'mon, not every couple is perfect, right?

Well, okay. His life seemed to be perfect. He had the perfect job as the editor of the local Amity Park newspaper, which makes LOADS of money. He had the most perfect apartment in Amity Park, which excluded rats, roaches, mold, and other nasty apartment features and included spacious room, a lifted floor that had stairs and lead to his bed and not to mention a beautiful view outside his window of the sun setting into the many buildings and homes. He had a perfect body due to the 11 years of ghost fighting he's been through. Most importantly, he had to perfect fiancé. Valerie Gray had been 'Miss Amity Park' since the end of high school, when Paulina moved to Kansas due to her family's bankruptcy. Yup, Danny's life was just perfect.

'Why should I complain? My life's GREAT! It's just something's missing. Well, that should be fixed once Valerie moves in with me. Speaking of which, where'd she-' Danny's thoughts were interrupted by Valerie's voice.

"Danny! C'mon! We'll find another store!" Valerie said walking out the door.

"Err.." Danny had to say something to get out of another 5 hours of shopping. "I should go home. I feel tired."

Valerie felt his forehead. "Are you sure? Will you be fine going home?"

"Yeah. I'll be okay." Danny said walking out of the store. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Valerie smiled.


"Aah.." Danny fell on the bed on his back. "This is way better than shopping." And with that, he fell into deep sleep.

A few hours later, Valerie walked through the door.

"I'm back." She called through the silence of the apartment. "And guess what I bought!" Her sing-song voice woke up Danny.

Danny rubbed his eyes. "What'd you get; the perfect wedding dress?"

"Nope, but it might help you with being the editor of 'Amity News'. It's outside. Help me bring it up."

'Oh, boy. It's a big one.' Danny thought.

"I got it at an antique shop. It looked so great, I thought I might get it for you!" Valerie opened the back of her car, and inside was a fairly old desk. It had two stacks of drawers on both sides, and a gap in the middle. It was a bright golden brown due to its age, and had a lot of room for doing lots of work.


"Whoa. This is GREAT!" Danny said, once he got the desk to his apartment, which wasn't hard at all for him.

Valerie has always wondered how Danny became so strong during high school. To this day, she still doesn't know about Danny's ghost powers, and continues to hunt the ghost boy. Err.. Man?

"The man said it belonged to someone who used to live around here in the 1900s! Isn't that cool? Well, I just wanted you to check it out. It has some cleaning up to do, you know. I'm off to work." Valerie gave Danny a quick peck on the cheek, and she was gone.

"Hmm.." Danny stared at the old desk. It was in good shape, but it needed some dusting and cleaning up. Danny got his cleaning products out, and began.

After a few minutes of cleaning the top of the desk, Danny got up to the drawers. He opened them all, to be ready to clean, took a wet sponge, and began with the top drawer to the left. Almost half his arm was hidden behind the drawer. It was pretty long, which was good for him to put all his stuff in.

His arm reached the back of the drawer. He felt a knob in there, but he couldn't see it when he took his arm out. He touched the knob, and gave it a short pull.


A small noise came from the drawer below it. Danny looked inside and reached his hand into the bottom-left drawer. He felt an opening, like a piece of wood had just been pulled up and opened, which extended the length of it. He felt things inside, which he pulled out to see.

"What the.." Danny thought aloud as he just pulled out a tiny glass bottle with ink, a feather pen, and an old envelope, which was an old, rusty color from age.

Out of his 'never out-grown' curiousity, Danny opened the envelope. Inside was a letter that was dated 1932. Shocked, he read it.

To My True Love,

This 'Great Depression' couldn't get any worse, but it is. Writing this letter means absolutely nothing to me. I'm simply writing to no one, because I have no true love.

Why I'm writing this is completely idiotic as well. My mother is making my write 'positively' because she's not happy with my 'negative outlook on my life.' It's the GREAT DEPRESSiON! Although, she does know I've had a darkened soul ever since I was 8.

Anyway, the Depression is very hard on my family. Not that I really care. Every single girl I know cares about finding a descent husband, having perfect children, and a great meal on the table. I'm stuck here with my family, but I could leave them anytime I please.

The only friend I seem to have on this dreaded planet is Tucker Foley, who always seems to abandon me for other girls. Don't get me wrong, he's a good friend and all, but I just wish he weren't so blunt.

To finish this off, stranger, I'm a nobody named Samantha Manson. Call me Samantha, and you'll die. Just call me Sam.

Yours truly,

Sam Manson

Danny felt a smile creep up his mouth. He could believe people actually spoke so formally.

Then, his thoughts began to race about Sam. How was she during the 'Great Depression'? Why did she have such an evil outlook? Did she leave her parents like she wanted? Did she eventually get with Tucker Foley? Why did she want to be called Sam? Maybe she wanted to give it to someone, but didn't get to. Maybe her ghost wanders around for her true love in the Ghost Zone.

He didn't know wither to put it back inside and forget it or get extra cash by donating it to a museum.

Whatever it meant, he knew there was only one thing to do. Make a visit to two of Amity Park's favorite ghost hunters. His parents.

A/N: Sorry about the description of the desk! It's kindda hard to describe. & Sam's letter. xD I don't know how people spoke during the 'Great Depression'. Yeah, sorry. xD; Don't forget to review. :D