Disclaimers
#1 - I do not own Digimon. Really.
#2 - This is a parody of a normal fanfic; but I actually did put some thought into it. Basically it's the product of a me and a friend's imaginations running away with us. And now I'd like to add that there is NOTHING wrong with deepening the characters, giving them issues to deal with. Both of us think that it makes for a good story. This is a result of a 'what if...?' conversation we had and not meant to hurt anyone's feelings. Really.
#3 - These issues are serious. Maybe I haven't had to deal with them, and maybe I don't hope to, but if you're struggling with any of these things, please do not take it as a direct hit to your character or anything like that. I do not think drug addiction, teenage prostitution, self-mutilation, unwanted pregnancies, kleptomania or shoplifting in general, or abuse are actually funny. Really.
Alrighty now, enjoy!
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Kari sighed, flopping down onto her double bed. TK had been acting so... distant lately. And Davis, too. Everyone seemed changed. Or were they the same and she the one who was acting different? Ugh, the very thought of it made her sick and she shut her eyes, her mind drifting towards the shopping bags leaning against her door.
First, there was the bottle of nailpolish; Ripe Tomato Red. She had liked the name... it had sounded so... pathetic. Trying so hard to string adjectives together instead of just saying 'red'? The color was okay, she had worn it a couple times, but eventually it ended up in the bottomless pit that was her desk drawers. Then there had been that purple pen, the tiny notepad, and eventually it became bigger things, like that little green bikini TK said looked so cute on her and that black handbag that went perfect with the boots Tai had gotten her for Christmas.
Today, she had paid for a large, cheap orange sweater she would eventually give to her father. She had also thrown in an adorable pink halter top, some socks with yellow duckies, and a reddish pink lipstick that looked great on her. Five-finger discount of course.
She modeled the top in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her door, turnining slowly around, yet looking herself in the eye. Maybe she was the one acting different.
-------
The alley was dark, as it would be in those cop movies that seem to come out at least once a month. It was still raining while the girl's grey boots sloshed through the inch-deep puddles as she turned up her collar to the cold. Her innocent-looking brown eyes flicked nervously from the brick walls, to the soaked pavement, up to the endless torrents of rain pouring from the grey sky. The figure ahead, cloaked by not only a heavy brown trenchcoat, but the thick raindrops as well, gave a haughty laugh. It was obviously her first time.
Indeed, it was her first time. She wasn't here for herself. Didn't touch the stuff actually, thought it was terrible. It was him, truthfully, she even tried to get him to stop, several times. But he didn't listen. He never did. Why did she have to go and love him? Somehow, she managed to pull her shoulders in even tighter under the sky blue raincoat that so sharply contrasted with her bleak surroundings. She shouldn't even be here; if he hadn't threatened to leave her, she wouldn't. She had no idea what she would do if he left her...
Matt tried hard not to laugh as the scared-looking girl approached him and asked for 5 grams. As he took the bag, he tried hard to wonder what she would do with it. Probably give it to some junkie brother or boyfriend who would have beaten her otherwise. She handed him the money and he counted the change, thinking he should tell her she got the wrong amount so she would have to stay longer. But it was raining pretty hard now and he almost felt bad for her; he even managed a smile as he handed her the tiny plastic baggie.She thanked him and turned quickly, running down the alleyway, those massive boots echoing with each step.
Usually dealers weren't users, but in Matt's case, the using had come first. Being a musician could get boring, and they were starting to lose their teenage luster. At first the drugs had just been to pass the time between shows, and Matt would be the last to admit it, but now they had become a habit. An addiction, if you must. He knew he couldn't get caught because the only people who knew were his regulars and a few random stragglers, such as the girl had been. But as buyers, they could never tell...
-------
The large black truck, complete with hemi, screamed 'asshole!' as it drove up to the school. Davis jumped out without even a goodbye to his father. Looking indifferent, his father sped off. Davis adjusted his backpack on his shoulder, eyes scanning the schoolyard. Cody sat on the steps, waiting for the bell to ring, Yolei had dropped her backpack and was frantically shoving the contents back in, and Kari was standing under a tree, strangely seperate from her usual chatty group of friends. Trying his best to look nonchalant, he jogged over. "Hey."
"Hi," she smiled warmly, as usual.
Before he could even feel strange for noticing this, Davis blurted "Is that a new top?"
"Yeah," Kari nodded, "You like it?"
"Kari Kamiya," he said, regarding the low back of the shirt, "How ever did your mother let you out of the house in that?" He laughed, knowing full well her parents turned a blind eye to most of the activities of Kari and her brother.
She giggled, deciding it was best to change the subject, "History starts in a couple minutes..."
Davis arched an eyebrow, "Since when do you care if we get to history on time?"
"Since now," she said, linking her arm with his, "Come on." Davis looked down at their linked arms and grinned.
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Alright, that's the first chapter. o-O The next one is more about TK and his... "serious issues". Be kind and review. Oh yes, and be harsh. I heart criticism. (-:
#1 - I do not own Digimon. Really.
#2 - This is a parody of a normal fanfic; but I actually did put some thought into it. Basically it's the product of a me and a friend's imaginations running away with us. And now I'd like to add that there is NOTHING wrong with deepening the characters, giving them issues to deal with. Both of us think that it makes for a good story. This is a result of a 'what if...?' conversation we had and not meant to hurt anyone's feelings. Really.
#3 - These issues are serious. Maybe I haven't had to deal with them, and maybe I don't hope to, but if you're struggling with any of these things, please do not take it as a direct hit to your character or anything like that. I do not think drug addiction, teenage prostitution, self-mutilation, unwanted pregnancies, kleptomania or shoplifting in general, or abuse are actually funny. Really.
Alrighty now, enjoy!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kari sighed, flopping down onto her double bed. TK had been acting so... distant lately. And Davis, too. Everyone seemed changed. Or were they the same and she the one who was acting different? Ugh, the very thought of it made her sick and she shut her eyes, her mind drifting towards the shopping bags leaning against her door.
First, there was the bottle of nailpolish; Ripe Tomato Red. She had liked the name... it had sounded so... pathetic. Trying so hard to string adjectives together instead of just saying 'red'? The color was okay, she had worn it a couple times, but eventually it ended up in the bottomless pit that was her desk drawers. Then there had been that purple pen, the tiny notepad, and eventually it became bigger things, like that little green bikini TK said looked so cute on her and that black handbag that went perfect with the boots Tai had gotten her for Christmas.
Today, she had paid for a large, cheap orange sweater she would eventually give to her father. She had also thrown in an adorable pink halter top, some socks with yellow duckies, and a reddish pink lipstick that looked great on her. Five-finger discount of course.
She modeled the top in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her door, turnining slowly around, yet looking herself in the eye. Maybe she was the one acting different.
-------
The alley was dark, as it would be in those cop movies that seem to come out at least once a month. It was still raining while the girl's grey boots sloshed through the inch-deep puddles as she turned up her collar to the cold. Her innocent-looking brown eyes flicked nervously from the brick walls, to the soaked pavement, up to the endless torrents of rain pouring from the grey sky. The figure ahead, cloaked by not only a heavy brown trenchcoat, but the thick raindrops as well, gave a haughty laugh. It was obviously her first time.
Indeed, it was her first time. She wasn't here for herself. Didn't touch the stuff actually, thought it was terrible. It was him, truthfully, she even tried to get him to stop, several times. But he didn't listen. He never did. Why did she have to go and love him? Somehow, she managed to pull her shoulders in even tighter under the sky blue raincoat that so sharply contrasted with her bleak surroundings. She shouldn't even be here; if he hadn't threatened to leave her, she wouldn't. She had no idea what she would do if he left her...
Matt tried hard not to laugh as the scared-looking girl approached him and asked for 5 grams. As he took the bag, he tried hard to wonder what she would do with it. Probably give it to some junkie brother or boyfriend who would have beaten her otherwise. She handed him the money and he counted the change, thinking he should tell her she got the wrong amount so she would have to stay longer. But it was raining pretty hard now and he almost felt bad for her; he even managed a smile as he handed her the tiny plastic baggie.She thanked him and turned quickly, running down the alleyway, those massive boots echoing with each step.
Usually dealers weren't users, but in Matt's case, the using had come first. Being a musician could get boring, and they were starting to lose their teenage luster. At first the drugs had just been to pass the time between shows, and Matt would be the last to admit it, but now they had become a habit. An addiction, if you must. He knew he couldn't get caught because the only people who knew were his regulars and a few random stragglers, such as the girl had been. But as buyers, they could never tell...
-------
The large black truck, complete with hemi, screamed 'asshole!' as it drove up to the school. Davis jumped out without even a goodbye to his father. Looking indifferent, his father sped off. Davis adjusted his backpack on his shoulder, eyes scanning the schoolyard. Cody sat on the steps, waiting for the bell to ring, Yolei had dropped her backpack and was frantically shoving the contents back in, and Kari was standing under a tree, strangely seperate from her usual chatty group of friends. Trying his best to look nonchalant, he jogged over. "Hey."
"Hi," she smiled warmly, as usual.
Before he could even feel strange for noticing this, Davis blurted "Is that a new top?"
"Yeah," Kari nodded, "You like it?"
"Kari Kamiya," he said, regarding the low back of the shirt, "How ever did your mother let you out of the house in that?" He laughed, knowing full well her parents turned a blind eye to most of the activities of Kari and her brother.
She giggled, deciding it was best to change the subject, "History starts in a couple minutes..."
Davis arched an eyebrow, "Since when do you care if we get to history on time?"
"Since now," she said, linking her arm with his, "Come on." Davis looked down at their linked arms and grinned.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alright, that's the first chapter. o-O The next one is more about TK and his... "serious issues". Be kind and review. Oh yes, and be harsh. I heart criticism. (-: