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Chapter 1: Neglect
Danny watches his parents working in the lab, standing alone by the door. He stands there for a few minutes, wondering if telling his parents about his latest escapades is worth it. His sister tells him not to, because it gets him in trouble. Danny isn't the sort to give up without a fight though, so he walks in, banging the door hard. Nobody looks up. They ignore him completely, and Danny feels a rush of anger.
Instead of yelling, he walks up behind his parents, and comes to a standstill in front of the projects they've been working on since he was a baby. Studying ectoplasm and its nature is something his parents do with incredible enthusiasm, which makes most people think they're insane. Ectologists, they call themselves. Danny likes to think they'll one day give him all the attention he wants.
His parents turn around, mother holding a prongs set, prepared to grab a test tube. Danny doesn't know which test tube they want. He doesn't care, either. Mother gives him a look, and tries to reach past him. Danny shifts to block her, and asks her something he hopes she'll answer. "Mama, can you take me to the park? I wanna go to Sammy's party, pretty please."
Danny is smart, but he ignores the anger that flashes across his mother's face, until the shoves him out of the way. "I have more important things to do than take you to a party. This is science. Science comes first. Go upstairs."
Danny stays there, and tries to summon up the courage to protest. He finally gets out, "But I promised Sammy-"
His mama cuts him off sharply. "I don't care what you promised Sammy. Leave. This is a delicate procedure. I can't be interrupted by a five year old who wants to see his friend. Shoo!" She glares at him, cowing him rapidly, and he retreats to the door, a few tears making their way out of his eyes. He sprints out, sobbing, because mama told him he isn't important enough. He needs to be important enough to notice.
He curls up in his hidey hole underneath the stairs that nobody but his sister knows about, and cries hard as he can, tries to erase don't care what you promise and science comes first, and more important things to do. Why don't Mama and Daddy like him? Is he as useless as they say he is? Surely, he must be. Parents don't say things that aren't true, right? He doesn't stop crying. Maybe one day he won't be so useless. Maybe one day his parents will love him.
He hears shuffling and scooting noises under his stairs, and sees a small silhouette against the metallic stairs. He feels his sister wrap her arms around him, rocking him back and forth slightly, waiting for him to calm down. Finally, his eyes dry, and he sits there, silent.
"What happened?" Jazz asks, still holding him, the size of the both of them making it awkward, but not too hard.
Danny nearly doesn't answer, but finally, he says something. "Jazzy, am I not important? Mama doesn't think I am. Mama says I'm useless. Daddy didn't stop her."
He knows what she'll say. She has said it before. She says it this time, too. "You aren't useless. They just don't see how useful you are. You should still stop getting in their way. It'll be better if you try to obey them, like I do. If you do, you won't get so much attention from them. Then, they'll stop yelling at you. One day, they'll show you that they love you."
Her voice is a mockery of confidence. It wobbles like a see-saw that can't stay steady, even when she tries to make it sound like she knows everything. Danny can read her tone. "Jazzy, what if they never do?"
She is quiet again, before she says, "Of course they will. You know when I got sick, how they gave me some medicine?" Danny remembers, but he doesn't correct her on a detail. They had only given her medicine when he insisted, not letting go of his father's pant leg until he got the ibuprofen down. Jazzy couldn't ask for it because she was sleeping. She didn't look good. She was flushed, and mumbling in her sleep, tossing and turning. She doesn't know it was he who convinced Daddy to get the medicine.
A thought hits him. "Jazzy, if I got sick, would they take care of me?" He waits for a reply, and she gives one with a great deal of genuine confidence. This time, he knows she isn't faking it. She says yes, of course they would. He doesn't say anything about the idea that occurs to him. Why shouldn't he make himself get sick? It would be easy, and he has some ideas already.
Just after supper that night, he fills himself up on so much fudge that he throws up. He's sick, and he wonders if they notice. They don't. He tries to make it worse than it is when he asks his mama for some medicine, because he doesn't feel well. She knows that he ate too much fudge, though, so she ignores him again, and leaves him to go to bed when he feels better. He is angry. It didn't work. He needs some other way to catch their attention. As he falls asleep, a new idea hits him, and he knows what he will do tomorrow, as soon as he can. A smile creeps across his face.
Maybe, when he's finished, his mama and daddy will tell him they love him, and he can be happy. He pictures his dream life, with a mama that hugs him every day, and a daddy who loves him, and a sister, and maybe more sisters and brothers. He wants one more. He decides that the new baby will be a sister, because Jazzy probably would want one, and there will be another brother, and their names will be Bluebell and Fuzzy, even though something tells him that those aren't good names. He'll be able to go to Sam's house every day, and play with Tucker, and go to the park, and everything will be perfect. He'll have a pretty new house with a huge planetarium, and lots of pencils and paper for drawing. He falls fast asleep, happy that soon, he'll have the best life ever.
Like it? Hate it? This is yet another idea I've had for a while. Please review it! Thanks!
-MiaulinK
