Author's Note: Here's another chapter for you guys. I hope you guys like it. This is different from what I usually write, so I hope it came out alright.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

The Box Ghost was the laughing stock of the Ghost Zone. His obsession was boxes. It wasn't knives, acid, or anything else worthy of being feared of. His obsession plain and simple was boxes.

All of the ghosts made fun of the Box Ghost because of that, and his tendency to be an annoyance. No matter how hard he tried to be feared or taken seriously, he was just laughed at, by humans and ghosts alike. The only time that he was feared was when he took Pandora's Box, but it wasn't the same as being feared for who he was.

There was a reason that the Box Ghost's obsession was boxes. There was a reason that he wanted to be feared. Nobody knew how he died. They didn't understand what his life was like when he was alive…

The Box Ghost didn't have the best childhood. He was an only child who didn't have any friends. It wasn't like he didn't try to have friends; people just never wanted to associate themselves with him.

He was made fun of at school for not being worth everyone's time. Whenever he tried to talk to someone, they just called him an annoyance or waste of space. He didn't understand why he was treated this way.

He decided to take a different approach to get attention by the time he was twelve. He was bullied by other kids, but one day he decided that he would try to scare them into being nice to him. He got everything that could be considered scary, and decorated the boys bathroom into what he thought would be the scariest thing imaginable. He was wrong; nobody so much as flinched when they went in. He asked someone why nobody ever paid attention to him, or at least why they weren't scared of whatever he did. The person said that he wasn't worth it, and that what he did scared everyone, but they waited until they were at home to show their fear.

As a young boy, he didn't have much to do. His dad worked as a mover which resulted in him having a ton of boxes. The Box Ghost would cut the boxes open, hide in them and jump out of them to scare people, and other various things to keep occupied. The only thing that he had that kept him entertained, were the boxes that his dad brought home from work.

The Box Ghost soon grew up, and decided to get a job. He wanted to do something with boxes because of his years with them. He loved how they came in different shapes and colors. The boxes were like him. They weren't considered important, but they were still just there. He soon found a job in a warehouse. It was the perfect job for him.

He applied for the job, and received a call the next week that said that he got the job. To say that he was glad was an understatement. He became the best worker due to his knowledge of what boxes were good for what. All he had to do was look at an object, and he could list several boxes that would be perfect for the box. He was the fastest loader, as well. He could load a whole truck in twenty minutes flat.

He worked at the same warehouse for the next twenty years. The final day of his life started like every other one. He woke up at 6:00 in the morning, got dressed, ate breakfast, and went to work for the next twelve hours. It was late one night, and there were several workers out with the flu. He went to load a truck, but today was different. He had to load the truck with heavier stuff than usual by himself. The truck that arrived was late, and he had only a few minutes before it left. He loaded the truck, but after he loaded the last box, something didn't seem right. He went in to see if everything was alright.

He made his way to the back of the truck, and then got out. What happened next was a great tragedy. He was about to close the door, but some boxes came and fell on him. He didn't die a quick death, but instead a slow and painful one. All he could see were boxes. Boxes were everywhere.

Some workers found him, but he was dead. The boxes had broken almost all of his bones, and crushed his internal organs. His funeral was a rather pitiful one. His parents and a few other warehouse workers had attended. He had made his first mistake: he stacked the boxes wrong which caused them to fall. His mistake proved to be a fatal one.

He was known as the Box Man because of his joy of working with boxes. If he had any friends, the boxes would be the closest thing to be considered friends for him. He had lived a childhood to try to be accepted, and to be feared just once. Instead he looked to boxes, and found comfort in them. All he wanted was to be feared just once, but his life ended with him being crushed by boxes. The last thing he saw was boxes. Boxes everywhere…

This resulted in the Box Ghost. The Box Ghost was born. He wasn't a very violent ghost. He just was annoying, but that could be enough to drive someone mad. He continued his childhood goal to be feared. He used his box obsession to be feared, but that proved to be a terrible idea. Nobody saw him as scary. Little kids giggled when they saw him. He was destined to be ridiculed due to his obsession of boxes.

Nobody understood how scary boxes could. They didn't understand how scary they were to him as he was being crushed by them. They didn't understand how painful they could be, the way he did when they broke his bones. They couldn't understand what it was like to have your last sight to be boxes. Boxes everywhere…

Author's Note: I hope you guys liked reading this. Tell me how this was in a review. If you have any ideas for this let me know in a review or PM.