Against All Odds

Chapter Four: A Drastic Decision

Within two weeks, Danielle and I were moved into our new house in Middleton. My parents didn't exactly like the idea, but they understood why I had decided to do it. The old house had been huge, but I figured that if we were going to start over, we might as well try something new. The house I moved us into was a one-story red brick house, with black shutters and a black door.

When we moved in, I put all the pictures of Sam into a box and put them in my closet. I kept one out, and it was on my nightstand in my room. If Danielle wanted to look at the pictures, she could go into my closet and get them out. The first few nights we were there, Danielle would wake up crying and end up sleeping in my room with me. I couldn't blame her for being so upset. While she was physically and mentally fourteen years old, she was technically only seven. She had lost the only person that she had ever known as a mother. And to make matters worse, the person who had killed her was the first person she ever thought of as her father. She had experienced more pain in seven years than most people would in a lifetime. It was sick and twisted; I hated it. It wasn't fair. She was just a little girl and she did not deserve this. I knew I had to try to make everything else as normal as I could for her. She needed stability.

A few weeks after we moved in, Kitty called to tell me that she and Johnny had bought the house just down the street from us and would be moving in within the next few days. I had no idea how she convinced Johnny that it would be a good idea, but I was thankful. It would be nice to have a few good friends in town with us. I knew Danielle would be happy.

Johnny still drove his motorcycle everywhere, but they'd bought a little red convertible for Kitty to use. I was grateful that they would be nearby; I was getting desperate. Danielle almost never slept, because every time she did, she would wake up crying. She cried nearly all the time when she was awake and she nearly completely stopped eating. I was worried sick about her. I had no idea what to do. The entire father thing had just sort of fell into my lap, but it had never been something that I had thought of as hard. Since she was my clone, it was mostly easy, but sometimes I forgot that she was just a little girl. I needed help.

Kitty tried everything to make her happy, taking her out for girly days of shopping and movies and ice cream, but nothing seemed to work. Johnny and I took her to every arcade within a fifty mile radius, but she still cried and wouldn't eat. At one point, while playing an older version of Doomed, she broke down crying in the middle of the arcade.

One night, after she had fallen asleep, with the help of a sleeping pill, Kitty spoke up her idea. "Danny, she needs to talk to someone."

"She has all of us to talk to," I began.

"No, Danny. Like, a therapist, or a psychologist. I think we need to call Jazz down here."

I sighed, "You're right. I'll call her."