Kingdom By The Sea
Disclaimer: I don't own Annabel Lee, by Edgar Allan Poe. And I don't own Danny Phantom, our lovely Butch Hartman owns him. Unfortunately - I'd love to own a guy with floofy black hair!
Anyways, this might just end up a prologue, or something. I MIGHT end up making a full-length Fanfiction to it, it just depends on how many reviews I get for this, and yeah. This is kinda angsty, I guess? It's cute, and it's Annabel Lee! Anyways, if I DO make another little addition to this, it would be after the events in this story take place, and I'd have to get a plot going. But of course, Reviewers always help.
was many, and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
There lived a maiden whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee; --
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me."
I groaned as Lancer read aloud from a large book of poetry he had bought the other day, because he was introducing us to what he liked to call 'Poetry 101.' Contrary to his beliefs, however, most of our class knew about poetry. Maybe with the exclusions of Dash and Tucker of course. It was lines of words, usually making up a story, with words that rhymed. And though Sam might say I'm wrong, I know what poetry is. It all started on Friday, when Mr. Lancer declared we would all be starting a subject we would love. I didn't agree with him, because I don't particularly like him, so when he teaches something, I have a tendency of not liking what he teaches. Though I immediately was proved wrong, because he said we wouldn't have very much homework to go with it. Surprisingly - and for once - he was right.
I glanced to my right, where Sam was eagerly tapping her fingers on her desk, one hand resting along her jaw, her elbow propping her arm up against the desk. She was really pretty - as I had noticed quite often nowadays, and I couldn't help but hold that glance for a few more seconds, before I looked to my left. Tucker. Tucker had his PDA on mute, and was playing a game on it, which game I couldn't tell. But what I did know, was that he was paying no attention whatsoever. He would probably go online later and look up the poem - which reminded me of our homework assignment. It was Monday, and we had already found out what our assignment was on Friday. We had to read over 'Annabel Lee' and figure out what the hell the poem was about. And though I was technically listening to the poem, I wasn't getting any idea what it was about. All I could comprehend, at the moment, was the fact that the first stanza of the poem was introducing a more-than-likely 'fair' maiden, who was named Annabel Lee. And, coincidentally, lived in a kingdom by the sea - sea rhyming with 'Lee.' Heck, maybe I was understanding this a bit better than I thought I was. But I instantly decided to make things easier for myself, placing Sam in the place of Annabel Lee. In a way, I wished I hadn't.
Mr. Lancer had paused, telling us to fill in a few rows in our notebooks to determine what the first few lines were about. I sighed and scratched down a few little thoughts I had, including the one about sea rhyming with 'Lee.' Notes weren't bad, and since poetry wasn't exactly my best interest, I'd need all the notes I could get.
"Now children, if you don't mind. I'd like you to go home and really think about what the first words really symbolized in Mr. Poe's life. Or how the main character of the poem felt about Annabel Lee."
The whole class loved the words 'go home' and cheered as the bell rang, making their way to the door like hungry dogs just shown a large slab of T-bone. Wow, Sam would hate me if she knew what I was thinking. I shrugged and gathered up my notebook, earmarking the page and slipping it into my backpack. Tucker was in a daze, playing what seemed like a new, Ping-Pong game on his PDA. Sam grinned at me, already at the door. God, how'd she get there already? Shrugging to myself, I followed her, sending a glance back to Tucker, who was about to get yelled at by Mr. Lancer, who was approaching him. Deciding not to get caught up in the action, Sam and I headed out the door. Though throughout the hallway, you could hear a very unhappy Tucker Foley groaning. He caught up to us, and we all headed home. Thank goodness today was a short day.
"Mr. Lancer stuck me with even more homework." Tucker grumbled, walking on the open side of me, which had been my right. Sam was at my left, the sun catching her hair in the noon light. "I have to write a whole essay about Annabel Lee, and how the poem reflected an event in Edgar Allan Poe's life."
"Oh that one's easy," Sam piped up, "It was when his wife of eleven years died. He married his cousin Virginia, and eleven years later, she died at the age of twenty-eight." Tucker stared at her for a minute, and I couldn't tell if it was the idea of a guy marrying his cousin when she was seventeen, or the fact that Sam even knew those kinds of things. I believed it though, Edgar Allan Poe had published quite a few disturbing things, and I knew Sam would be the kind of person to read that stuff.
"He married his cousin? When she was seventeen?" Ha, I was right. "Do you know how disturbing that is! God, well thanks for the help anyway, I have to write three pages - seven-hundred words - about his cousin/wife. Great." I chuckled at this, and Sam only grinned, leaning her head in front of me to get a good view of Tucker. "Well, at least I saved you some research. Glad to be of help - I finally achieved my life goal, scaring the hell outta Tucker!" She jumped up, a fist pumped into the air to reinforce her 'joy' which was pure sarcasm, even Tucker knew that.
"When's the essay due?" I asked lazily, shifting my eyes to look over at Tucker, who's expression fell a few more degrees. In fact, I was surprised I caught his answer, which was a perfect hybrid of groan and whisper, that spoke out: "Tomorrow." That only got a small laugh out of me, as I clapped him on the back and sped up a little more, my house coming into view. "Good luck with that one!"
The phone rang.
And rang. Before...
"Hello?" It was Sam's voice, the exact person I was hoping it was. I sighed in relief, because it was fairly late at night - even though I knew she'd be up. I on the other hand, was lucky I was able to stay even partially awake. At 11 at night, my parents hadn't noticed my absence. They had fallen asleep, believing that I was safe and sound in my bed, when in all reality, I was out pounding Skulker for the hundred and fifty-sixth time. Or so it seemed, maybe it was only the eighteenth...
"Hey, Sam. It's Danny, anyway I just got back from returning Skulker to the Thermos...again. And I didn't do my project. Help?" My voice was pathetic, I had to admit. She caught it too, and had laughed at me. I would have laughed if I had heard a whiny, seven-year-old voice that hadn't had enough sleep, at least that's what my voice sounded like. "Sure, I'll help you. Do you have anything down?" I nodded and told her I had, and we spent at least an hour on the phone discussing what six lines of poetry meant. Depressing. Eventually I finished, thanked her profusely, and dragged my tired Halfa self to bed.
School started out better the next day, there wasn't even one ghost attack, thankfully. Though the day dragged on boringly, all until...
Suddenly, I was starting to like this subject a little more. Mr. Lancer went around, collecting homework and looking it over while we read some excerpt from a book I had never heard of. A short story, it was. 'The Pit and the Pendulum' by Edgar Allan Poe. Joy. Anyway we had read it - I hadn't had a clue what it meant - and by the time we all finished, he was done looking over the class' work. He handed back the papers after grading them quickly, and I was amazed that I had...Get ready for this, a B-. Shocking, huh? I shifted slightly to my right, to glance over at Sam's paper. I wasn't at all surprised when I saw a big "A+" I didn't even know that teachers could give more than one plus... Mr. Lancer came around once more and handed Tucker his essay back, returning to the front of the class again. Tucker groaned.
"C." He groaned again, reinforcing the idea behind the original groan. The footnotes - or what I could see of them - said something along the lines of 'Right idea, wrong details.' Or something like that. Mr. Lancer took out his poetry book and glanced around the class once more.
"Most of you did very good with last night's assignment, though for those of you who didn't have a clue; I suggest you pay more attention to today's little stanza, okay? Edgar Allan Poe was a great author, and by all means one of our best when it came to describing the horrors of our natural world. So if you get a bad grade tomorrow, count yourself lucky to do the same seven-hundred word essay about what event in his life triggered the idea behind Annabel Lee." He paused, there was a brief bout of protest from the more popular students, who clearly had better things to do with their lives than stay inside, thinking 'deep' thoughts about some dead guy and his poetry. "All right, here's today's:" Mr. Lancer paused, found his page, and allowed everybody to open their notebooks and get ready.
was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love --
I and my Annabel Lee --
With a love that the winged seraphs in Heaven
Coveted her and me."
The class listened, and I jotted down notes. They were both children, which I guess supported Sam's explanation yesterday about Virginia, Poe's cousin/wife who died at twenty-eight. 'But we loved with a love that was more than love--' That line struck me kind of funny. I don't know why, but it made me turn to my right, where Sam was busily abusing her notebook by scribbling notes down with her pretty handwriting. I loved her handwriting, it was so neat - and mine was kind of plain. But I guess her's was meant to be appealing, she was a girl. Man, if she caught me thinking that she'd kill me.
"Since we have a little more time than we did yesterday, why don't we get a head-start on what those few lines might mean?" Mr. Lancer suggested, I raised my hand immediately, which startled Sam and Tucker in a flurry. Nobody else had their hands raised, Sam only kept her's down to hear what I had to say. I thanked her quietly. "Mr. Fenton..." Lancer called in a depressed sort of way, nodding toward me.
"Poe, or in this case, the main character, is talking about the relationship between him and Annabel Lee, which supports the first few lines, where he described her as maiden, which usually refers to beauty. In this case, the seraphs," I had no clue what a seraph was, unfortunately, "are jealous of this, which could lead to something drastic later in the poem." Judging by the way Virginia had died, I suspected that Annabel wasn't going to make it out of this poem with her life. Mr. Lancer stared at me for a moment, swallowing before addressing what I had just said. "Very good." He choked the words out, which made me chuckle, where Sam gave me a brief smile, telling me I had done a good job. Not so clueless anymore, eh? Mr. Lancer cleared his throat, getting the attention of the class.
"For those of you who don't know, 'Seraph' is a term used to identify the inner-circle of angels in Heaven." He announced. Well, that helped. "After we finish this, I expect you to know the words by heart - because we're doing a vocabulary quiz afterwards." This earned him a pleasing groan from everybody in the class, minus Sam. Of course, everybody knew she knew everything that had to do - even remotely - with Edgar Allan Poe.
School let out, and Tucker's parents had picked him up, leaving Sam and I to walk home alone. I wasn't complaining, ever since that line in the poem, I had been considering telling Sam how I had felt about her. Amazing what a simple line in a poem could do to you, eh? And my mind, which had plugged Samantha Manson into the role of Annabel Lee, me being the story teller, was persuading me to go ahead and blurt it out, regardless of what she might think. I doubted she liked me much though - in fact, I was sure she liked me as 'just friends.' Those words were getting to me at the moment.
"So how'd you like English today? You answered very well." The innocent words drew me from my thoughts as I looked over to her, I shrugged halfheartedly, using all of my willpower to keep me from blurting out 'I love you Sam!' or something stupid like that. "It was fine I guess, I'm surprised I even knew about that stuff. I don't think I'll need help on tonight's paper though, I should be fine." She nodded and smiled, turning from me. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow." I smiled and nodded, watching her walk off toward her house from my front porch. She was so pretty, and I decided I would tell her. Not now, not today - or even tomorrow - but sometime soon. Sometime soon I would tell her.
School started the next day. Though a good half of it, or for me, was spent chasing Technus around the Cyber-Mill place, which eventually led to me cramming him in the Thermos, with his new roomy - Skulker. I was keeping my grudge against him, and I had decided I would lock him heartlessly into the Fenton Thermos for a while, see how he liked that. And to be trapped with Technus, with his annoying voice...And the Box Ghost, if I ever caught him within the vicinity of a week, he'd have to share his home with him too. Haha. I came back just in time to start English, which I was excited about.
Things started out like they had the previous day. The class handed in their homework, and we read a different poem by, you guessed it, Edgar Allan Poe. This time it was 'The Raven' about this mental guy talking to a bird. Funny. I got another good grade, which surprised me just as much, though Mr. Lancer addressed the class, a more serious look on his face. His poetry book in hand. "Now class, from here on, Annabel Lee gets a little more depressing. If anybody is against thinking about depressing things, get a note signed from a parent or guardian, and I'll excuse you from it. But you still have to do the vocabulary quiz!" He added evilly, and I could tell half the class would be talking to their parents sometime in the near future. He nodded and opened his book, reading the third stanza of the poem.
this is the reason that, long ago
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre,
In this kingdom by the sea."
He finished, and we were allowed a brief period of time to write about what we felt, or what we thought the main character thought. In this case, I wrote a short paragraph about how the illness would probably change the course of the poem dramatically, and I listed a few outcomes from it - one including death. Mr. Lancer collected the quick-writes, gave us our homework, and sent us away. Sam was complaining about her stomach, and went to the nurse's office, and was quickly sent home. Tucker and I remained at school, talking excitedly about what we would do over the course of Thursday and Friday. We had a long weekend - to be specific, Winter Break. So after Friday, we were home free. We were to happy to pay much mind to a rampaging stomach flu or whatever the heck Sam had. We just hoped she'd be better before the break.
"Weird how just today Sam got sick, eh? I mean, so did Annabel." Tucker mused, turning to me as we were walking to my house to have a whole day of random fun. I shrugged, my mind totally wandering away from me. I did recall that I had placed Sam in the place of Annabel, because she was so pretty. Oh well, it was a fluke. A one-in-a-lifetime kind of thing, I mean, who reads the poem Annabel Lee, and has their best friend fall ill right when they get to that part of the poem? Only me. But then again, a lot of weird things happened to me, this was no exception.
Tucker and I partied until all get-out, and eventually he left. I shrugged and headed to bed after I finished all my homework. Things were fine, I assured myself, and Sam would be at school the next day, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Okay, maybe not exactly like that, but she'd be there. Agreeing upon that, I fell asleep. She'd be there.
Unfortunately, she wasn't. Tucker and I had scoured the hallways looking for her, until Tucker pulled out his cellphone and called her house, finding out that Mrs. Manson had kept her home because her little Sammykins fell ill. We exchanged glances, just in time to hear the tardy bell. Well, we were late - we'd be fine, everything was normal. The day drew on longer than we had imagined, and by the time English had come around, we had hardly noticed. I was starting to like the poem assignments, but now I wasn't so sure. Mr. Lancer took attendance, watched us all carefully, and collected our homework, leaving it off until later. He took out his book, dismayed that only half the class was there - the other half's parents "didn't want them hearing about that stuff." Convenient, eh? He opened the book, and read aloud:
angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me--
Yes! -- That is the reason (as all men knew,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee."
I gulped. I knew Annabel Lee was gonna die, I knew it, but when I actually heard it, I wasn't so self-assured. Especially with everything that was happening with Sam. I raised my hand and said I wasn't feeling good, and was excused, going straight to the nurse's office, where I was sent straight home. My mom picked me up in the RV, taking me straight home. Things were quiet, very, very quiet. Eventually my mom glanced at me, nervously, before she returned to driving.
"You know, they took Sam to the hospital today." My mom chimed sadly, I immediately tensed up. Sam? In the hospital? Surely this wasn't very good. My mom confirmed my thoughts. "They don't know what's wrong with her, but they said it was very serious. She'll probably be there all vacation. A pity, I think. And she was looking forward to taking you somewhere with her. I think her parents were going to take you to Disneyland, or something, for their Christmas special." I stared at her. I was in shock, that was for sure. She was sick - really, badly sick - and the fact that her parents were going to take me somewhere, me, didn't help. "S-Sam? In the hospital? Surely you misunderstood, right..?" I gulped for the second time today, looking horrified at my mom. Obviously she noticed.
"Oh honey, I'm sure it's not that bad. She'll be fine once school rolls around." I stared at my hands, instantly wishing we had never started that freakish school assignment. "I only hope so..."
I went to bed that night, and didn't sleep very well. Though I heard the phone ring, and my parents went to answer it. I heard my mom talking, and a phone drop. Heavy footsteps, and my door open. I sat up straight, looking to see my mom, a horrified look on her face. "Go get dressed, we have to go to the hospital." I nodded solemnly, slipping into my usual clothes, leaving my pjs on underneath and went out to the RV. Jazz accompanied me, and my mom drove. Obviously my dad didn't care, or something. Oh well.
When we got there, we saw Tucker, who was huddled in the Emergency Room Waiting Room corner, scared out of his wits. His parents were talking to the Mansons, all of them not very happy looking. I walked over to Tucker, who through all his horror of the hospital, was scared for Sam too. I knew this was bad - I just knew it. Now I wished I hadn't known how the poem ended. "Tucker, what's going on?" I asked, he shifted his eyes and stood up, staring at me. "My mom didn't tell me." I added quickly, catching his look. He nodded, and we sat down.
"We got a call from the Manson's, Sam really isn't doing very well. They think she's...They think..." I knew what he was going to say. Though I knew it was hard for him, I needed to hear him say it. I pressured him into continuing. "They think she's...Not...Gonna make it." I sighed, not knowing what else to do. My heart hurt. The doctor came in and told all of us to go into her room, minus Tucker's parents and my mom. We filed in, and Mrs. Manson nearly fainted, and she had to be escorted from the room. Sam looked horrible, her pretty self hooked up to so many machines, and IV's in her arms. I looked away, only to have my gaze brought back by her horribly, terribly weak voice.
"Tucker...Danny. Hi...I'm sorry you have to see me like this..." Apparently, she didn't know. Tucker explained to her that she wasn't doing to good, but he didn't say she would probably, most likely, die. If he had, she could go into shock, or a coma, or something terrible, and never even stand a chance. She nodded quietly, looking to me, then Tucker. "Can I...Speak to Danny? ..Alone?" Tucker nodded, and reluctantly left the room. I looked to Sam, and took her hand. "Look, Sammy, I'm really sorry..."
"Don't be...but I have to tell you something." That caught my attention. I looked over to her, nodding, and allowed her to catch her breath. "I really, really like you, Danny. I always have...Though lately, I've liked you even more...And...I kind of...Well, I love you." Great. Why did all of this stuff happen to me, when somebody was about to die? I watched her eyes get watery, and I knew she wouldn't let herself cry in front of me. I squeezed her hand gently, bringing my thumb to her forehead, wiping away a stray strand of hair. "I love you too, Sammy." She sighed contentedly and watched me for a while, a grin on her face. It was the only time I had seen her so happy, I mean I'd seen her happy before, but this...Was un Goth-worthy. She continued smiling for a moment, just looking at me. "Thank you, Danny." The room was quiet, aside from the stead 'beep, beep, beep' of the heart monitoring machine, I watched her, so peaceful, until she closed her eyes. She looked like an angel - the last thing I thought I'd think about somebody in a hospital bed. Though the noise in the room suddenly, unfortunately, turned into a long, droning, beep...
I found myself, and everybody else I knew, garbed in black. Something Sam would have loved. It was winter break, and when we should have been in Disneyland, partying, we were stuck in the cemetery. Though Sam loved the place, I had to admit, I hated it now. Everybody was sad, depressed, and lonely. I one of the most struck. Her parents remained sobbing over in the far edge of the small crowd. My parents were standing near them, Tucker's parents on the opposite side of them. Tucker had his shoulder on mine, and everybody in our school was there, dressed in black. There was a priest, saying a few words, in front of a fancy black coffin. He was speaking loud and clear, though I couldn't hear him. My mind was swamped, in a terrible, terrible state, I had to admit. I couldn't think right, all I could think of, was the stupid poem. The stupid Edgar Allan Poe poem that had stolen my love from me. I sighed as the priest motioned his hand, alerting anybody who wanted to see Sam, to go forward now. I took a step forward, much to my hatred of myself. I had wanted to see her peaceful, the last time I saw her. But I hadn't wanted my last memory of her to be in a hospital.
I opened the front of the coffin, looking down on my Sam. My Sam. I miss that already. I took a bouquet of dried flowers and placed them in her hands, along with a PDA Tucker wanted her to have. On the dark flowers I handed her, there was a ribbon, holding them together. In that ribbon was a class ring, with her name embroidered on it, and a bright green jewel. I had asked for it, when I was going to ask her out. Now I didn't have the chance, but I still wanted her to have it. Holding back tears, I closed the casket, and it was lowered into the dirt. It was covered, and for an hour, everybody remained there silent. Not a sound, not a bird chirping, or anything. Slowly, people started leaving. Everybody, even her parents. Only I remained, watching the gravestone, as if Sam would come out, and hug me, or something. God I miss her already. My eyes scanned the gravemarker, reading the gravestone:
In Loving Memory Of:
Loving Daughter, Classmate, and Friend.
'Farther down the grave, were the lines that I had requested. Her parents had no problem with it:
our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we --
Of many far wiser than we --
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Could ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee --
the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: --
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side.
Of my darling -- my darling -- my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea --
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Depressing, no? Anyways, I really liked it. It was kinda long though, but yeah. I love the poem Annabel Lee, and so I'm SORRY I killed off Sam, I really LIKE Sam, but you know, I happen to love Danny being depressed more. -Shrug.- No flames please, I warned you it would be depressing.