Danny Desai: Before Twisted
Title: Danny Desai: Before Twisted
Word Count: ~1.1k
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: Fandom: Twisted
Pairings (if any): N/A
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Show warnings: Death
Summary: Twisted prequel. The story of how everyone became the person they did in the 5 years Danny was gone. Idea thanks to anon on ff.net
Really Crappy Book Cover: http://ffcdn2012.fictionpressllc.netdna-cdn.com/image/856958/180/
"Let's go, hurry up!"
That was my queue. I stood up, my orange jumpsuit hanging off my body. This suit was way too big for my tiny body, but then again I suppose society doesn't plan on an eleven year old killing their aunt. I walked beside my peers, older boys that could easily crush me if they so desired.
The guy to me left, who I would later find out was in for the rape and attempted murder of his six year old sister, stood looking down at me in his tall five foot eight frame. His head was shaved, and he had many piercings all over his face.
I would be here for another five years, until I reached the age of sixteen at which time I would be placed back in my mother's custody. I know she doesn't blame me for killing her sister. After all, it was something that had to be done, weather it was me or someone else who did it. I just hope that Jo and Tracey would be okay.
"Desai!" the guard holding the clipboard yelled out. I stepped forward.
"Yes?"
"You'll be rooming with Bunker over here," he said, pointing to the teen to the left of me. I look up, intimidated. The teen, Bunker, smiled in an evil manner, and I knew that these next five years here would be difficult, especially as long as this guy was my roommate.
We were ushered in, and followed a different man who showed us to our room. It was exactly like I always saw on television - the uncomfortable mattress, the disturbing inmates, and dirty cells. Except this time, everyone there was a minor.
Through my years here, I grew up a lot. I went from the intimidated little kid that everyone once knew to a tall, built, strong teenager. I grew my hair out, had a few growth spurts, and learned how to defend myself.
I also played a lot of soccer. And by a lot, I meant a lot. Most of the time while not in the required therapy or classes was spent kicking a soccer ball around with the other guys. We became close while we were here… like a little family almost.
But I missed Jo and Tracey more than anyone could ever imagine. I wrote letters to both of them quite often, but only a handful were returned. As the months, then years went on, the contact I had with the two girls went from once a month, to once every few months, to nothing. Before I knew it I was alone and the two people I have been friends with since I was in pre-k were in their first years of high school being teenagers.
However, the hours upon hours spent forced in therapy were the worst.
"Danny, I need you to tell me. Why did you kill your aunt?" I was fifteen at this point, and this "therapist" couldn't get a clue. Every time I had a session with him, our hour would start out the same way: with him asking me why I killed Aunt Tara. And every single session I would tell him the exact same thing.
I leaned forward. "Look, I told you already. It's complicated. It needed to be done."
"Why? Tell me why it needed to be done, Danny." I sat back on the leather couch and crossed my arms over my chest. He sighed, and I smiled. I knew I had won, just like I always did when it came to this topic. "So tell me, how are you feeling today?"
I stated back at him. "Fine."
"Have you gotten a reply back from either Jo or Tracey?"
In a moment of weakness I had told him about how Jo and Tracey have no longer replied to the letters I send each of them every month. I still continue to write to them even though I get no response anymore. "No."
"Why do you think that is?"
"Look, I don't know, okay?! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm in juvenile detention. Or maybe something to do with the fact that I killed my aunt while they were in the front yard?!" I was getting angry now. He knew nothing about me, and especially not about Jo and Tracey. I was so sick and tired of bring the two of them into everything. They had nothing to do with Aunt Tara's murder or why I had to kill her. Nothing at all.
He sighed. "Alright Danny, that's it for today. I'll see you in a few days."
Before he could finish his sentence I was out the door in one swift movement.
My mom smiled at me from across the room. Today was my sixteenth birthday, and this officially meant that I was free from this place… that I could go back home. But I didn't even know where "home" was anymore.
"You ready Danny?"
"I guess." I grabbed my big duffel bag and threw it over my shoulder. "Where are we going?"
I walked out of the station, free to live my childhood for the first time in five long years.
"Home," she replied.
Obviously that's not what I meant. "And where would that be?" I asked.
"Our house… where you grew up. So you can go back to school Monday and see Jo and Lacey and stuff. This is what you wanted, right Danny? You said you wanted to try to have a normal life."
I sighed and ran a hand through my long hair. "I know. I just didn't expect you to send me back to school so soon."
"Everything will be fine Danny. You'll go to school, make some friends, and it will be like none of this ever happened."
"I highly doubt that will happen."
I just didn't know right I would be.
Word Count: ~1.1k
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: Fandom: Twisted
Pairings (if any): N/A
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Show warnings: Death
Summary: Twisted prequel. The story of how everyone became the person they did in the 5 years Danny was gone. Idea thanks to anon on ff.net
Really Crappy Book Cover: http://ffcdn2012.fictionpressllc.netdna-cdn.com/image/856958/180/
"Let's go, hurry up!"
That was my queue. I stood up, my orange jumpsuit hanging off my body. This suit was way too big for my tiny body, but then again I suppose society doesn't plan on an eleven year old killing their aunt. I walked beside my peers, older boys that could easily crush me if they so desired.
The guy to me left, who I would later find out was in for the rape and attempted murder of his six year old sister, stood looking down at me in his tall five foot eight frame. His head was shaved, and he had many piercings all over his face.
I would be here for another five years, until I reached the age of sixteen at which time I would be placed back in my mother's custody. I know she doesn't blame me for killing her sister. After all, it was something that had to be done, weather it was me or someone else who did it. I just hope that Jo and Tracey would be okay.
"Desai!" the guard holding the clipboard yelled out. I stepped forward.
"Yes?"
"You'll be rooming with Bunker over here," he said, pointing to the teen to the left of me. I look up, intimidated. The teen, Bunker, smiled in an evil manner, and I knew that these next five years here would be difficult, especially as long as this guy was my roommate.
We were ushered in, and followed a different man who showed us to our room. It was exactly like I always saw on television - the uncomfortable mattress, the disturbing inmates, and dirty cells. Except this time, everyone there was a minor.
Through my years here, I grew up a lot. I went from the intimidated little kid that everyone once knew to a tall, built, strong teenager. I grew my hair out, had a few growth spurts, and learned how to defend myself.
I also played a lot of soccer. And by a lot, I meant a lot. Most of the time while not in the required therapy or classes was spent kicking a soccer ball around with the other guys. We became close while we were here… like a little family almost.
But I missed Jo and Tracey more than anyone could ever imagine. I wrote letters to both of them quite often, but only a handful were returned. As the months, then years went on, the contact I had with the two girls went from once a month, to once every few months, to nothing. Before I knew it I was alone and the two people I have been friends with since I was in pre-k were in their first years of high school being teenagers.
However, the hours upon hours spent forced in therapy were the worst.
"Danny, I need you to tell me. Why did you kill your aunt?" I was fifteen at this point, and this "therapist" couldn't get a clue. Every time I had a session with him, our hour would start out the same way: with him asking me why I killed Aunt Tara. And every single session I would tell him the exact same thing.
I leaned forward. "Look, I told you already. It's complicated. It needed to be done."
"Why? Tell me why it needed to be done, Danny." I sat back on the leather couch and crossed my arms over my chest. He sighed, and I smiled. I knew I had won, just like I always did when it came to this topic. "So tell me, how are you feeling today?"
I stated back at him. "Fine."
"Have you gotten a reply back from either Jo or Tracey?"
In a moment of weakness I had told him about how Jo and Tracey have no longer replied to the letters I send each of them every month. I still continue to write to them even though I get no response anymore. "No."
"Why do you think that is?"
"Look, I don't know, okay?! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm in juvenile detention. Or maybe something to do with the fact that I killed my aunt while they were in the front yard?!" I was getting angry now. He knew nothing about me, and especially not about Jo and Tracey. I was so sick and tired of bring the two of them into everything. They had nothing to do with Aunt Tara's murder or why I had to kill her. Nothing at all.
He sighed. "Alright Danny, that's it for today. I'll see you in a few days."
Before he could finish his sentence I was out the door in one swift movement.
My mom smiled at me from across the room. Today was my sixteenth birthday, and this officially meant that I was free from this place… that I could go back home. But I didn't even know where "home" was anymore.
"You ready Danny?"
"I guess." I grabbed my big duffel bag and threw it over my shoulder. "Where are we going?"
I walked out of the station, free to live my childhood for the first time in five long years.
"Home," she replied.
Obviously that's not what I meant. "And where would that be?" I asked.
"Our house… where you grew up. So you can go back to school Monday and see Jo and Lacey and stuff. This is what you wanted, right Danny? You said you wanted to try to have a normal life."
I sighed and ran a hand through my long hair. "I know. I just didn't expect you to send me back to school so soon."
"Everything will be fine Danny. You'll go to school, make some friends, and it will be like none of this ever happened."
"I highly doubt that will happen."
I just didn't know right I would be.