Donovan's Mix Part Three: Fire
**Disclaimer** The characters in here are not mine, and have never, or will never belong to me. Sigh. Donovan is probably one of the cutest little things ever, and although I do
NOT agree with what happened to him, I have to keep it the same because that's how its gonna be. The quotes aren't exactly right, but I didn't feel like watching the fire scene again, so I used my memory, and I hope they're close enough. Anyway, enjoy!!!!
The next day, waking up to a loud fight, Donovan made his way into the living room just in time to hear his dad say that he was leaving his wife, and that it was all Donovan's fault. She pleaded with him not to go, and he told her that if Donovan wasn't there that he would stay. Slamming the door behind him, Donovan watched his father walk out for the last time.
Running over to where his Mom sat, he looked at her, and it was like something had broken inside of her. Screaming at him, about how it was his fault, and about how he had caused his dad to move out, Donovan could only sit there and listen for so long without retreating to his room. Sitting back on his bed, he looked at his alarm clock. Four AM. Laying back down on his bed, he cried himself back to sleep, something that he hadn't done in almost 10 years.
Later that day, at school, Donovan went to all of his classes, something that he had been doing ever since Louis had begun to influence him. In fact, the only person who was still skipping class was 'Lando, and no one thought that it would have been different. Sitting down in Mr. Kerrigan's class, he turned to look at the girl sitting next to him when he heard her say his name. "What is it, Babe?" He said with a grin.
"Well, I heard that you were one of the 12 selected to do that weird martial arts shit. How is it?" Beckie asked with a mild amount of curiosity. Not wanting to sound too excited, he thought before he spoke.
"It's really different, to tell you the truth. I don't know how to describe it, but if you want to watch, come to the firehouse with us. You can go on the bus. I'm sure Louis wouldn't mind." Turning to the front of the room, Mr. Kerrigan walked up and started talking. Donovan, as well as Eddie, Shay, and a few others from the Capioera class were all paying attention, and a few of them raised their hands to give non-smart-assed answers. Kerrigan looked really surprised at first, and right before the class ended, he asked the kids to share one of their goals, because it tied in with the days lesson.
The class had some strange goals, like wake up every morning at their houses, and dressing coolly, and things like that. Donovan stood up when he was told to, and looked Mr. Kerrigan right in the eyes. "My goal," he said taking a shaky breath, trying to decide if what he was about to say was the right thing or not. He made his decision. "My goal is to stay in school for the rest of high school and graduate with passing grades in at least two of my classes." Mr. Kerrigan as well as the rest of the class looked at him with wide eyes. No one, especially someone in Donovan's position had ever admitted something like that before, and everyone was stunned.
Continuing with a firm voice, he said, "The fact that almost 90% of the students in this school do not graduate has finally gotten to me. I want to be one of that 10% that make it. I want to matter. That," he said pointing to the Brazilian musical instrument," That, as well as Louis and my Capioera classes have made the difference in my life. I want to graduate. I think that I can, and will make it." Donovan sat down.
"I think that by saying that he wants to graduate, Donovan has taken a big step, don't you think? I know that I'm proud of him." Beckie said with a smile. The other students nodded. Then, they began to clap, and after a few seconds, Donovan realized that they were clapping for him. It felt good, and already he felt that he mattered. The bell rang, and the class was over. On his way out, Donovan picked up his radio, and went over to Mr. Kerrigan's desk.
"Are you planning on telling Louis what you have decided to do, Donovan?" Mr. Kerrigan asked. Shifting uncomfortably, Donovan didn't answer. "I think you should. You already admitted it to yourself, it shouldn't be that hard to tell someone else." Telling him he could go, Donovan made his way down to the courtyard, and found Shay sitting in their usual spot. Sitting down next to him, Donovan asked him if he was ready for the match that afternoon. Smiling, he replied that he was. They settled down to study, and blocked everything out for a little while.
After about fifteen minutes, Shay tapped him on the shoulder. "Isn't that Kerrigan's classroom? They were both up and out of their seats faster then they ever thought they could be. Running up the steps, and into the school, they made their way past everyone trying to go in the opposite direction, and up to Kerrigan's room. Coughing because of the thick smoke, they peered into the room. Yelling for Shay to come on, Donovan ran into the room, and looked around.
Quickly walking over to where Kerrigan lay, the two boys helped the partially unconscious teacher up, and out of the room. Donovan felt compelled to go back, because it felt like there was something missing. "I'll be right back." Turning, he ran back into the fire consumed classroom, in hopes of fixing what he knew was wrong. He looked around the room, and then saw it. The broken pieces of the Brazilian stick that Louis loved.
His first thought was, "why is this in here? It should be at the Dojo. Not in this room." The smoke began to seep into his lungs, and he knew that he was running out of time. Dropping to his knees, he reached the instrument. Picking up one of the pieces, he turned as he heard Shay's voice. Deciding to pay no attention, he refocused on his task. Then, he yelled out as he felt hot objects fall onto his back. Falling to the floor, Donovan heard Shay yell his name one last time, and his body surged with a flash of pain so forceful that he passed out.
He lay in the middle of the burning room, under the smoldering rubble and made no motions of getting up. Time passed.
**Disclaimer** The characters in here are not mine, and have never, or will never belong to me. Sigh. Donovan is probably one of the cutest little things ever, and although I do
NOT agree with what happened to him, I have to keep it the same because that's how its gonna be. The quotes aren't exactly right, but I didn't feel like watching the fire scene again, so I used my memory, and I hope they're close enough. Anyway, enjoy!!!!
The next day, waking up to a loud fight, Donovan made his way into the living room just in time to hear his dad say that he was leaving his wife, and that it was all Donovan's fault. She pleaded with him not to go, and he told her that if Donovan wasn't there that he would stay. Slamming the door behind him, Donovan watched his father walk out for the last time.
Running over to where his Mom sat, he looked at her, and it was like something had broken inside of her. Screaming at him, about how it was his fault, and about how he had caused his dad to move out, Donovan could only sit there and listen for so long without retreating to his room. Sitting back on his bed, he looked at his alarm clock. Four AM. Laying back down on his bed, he cried himself back to sleep, something that he hadn't done in almost 10 years.
Later that day, at school, Donovan went to all of his classes, something that he had been doing ever since Louis had begun to influence him. In fact, the only person who was still skipping class was 'Lando, and no one thought that it would have been different. Sitting down in Mr. Kerrigan's class, he turned to look at the girl sitting next to him when he heard her say his name. "What is it, Babe?" He said with a grin.
"Well, I heard that you were one of the 12 selected to do that weird martial arts shit. How is it?" Beckie asked with a mild amount of curiosity. Not wanting to sound too excited, he thought before he spoke.
"It's really different, to tell you the truth. I don't know how to describe it, but if you want to watch, come to the firehouse with us. You can go on the bus. I'm sure Louis wouldn't mind." Turning to the front of the room, Mr. Kerrigan walked up and started talking. Donovan, as well as Eddie, Shay, and a few others from the Capioera class were all paying attention, and a few of them raised their hands to give non-smart-assed answers. Kerrigan looked really surprised at first, and right before the class ended, he asked the kids to share one of their goals, because it tied in with the days lesson.
The class had some strange goals, like wake up every morning at their houses, and dressing coolly, and things like that. Donovan stood up when he was told to, and looked Mr. Kerrigan right in the eyes. "My goal," he said taking a shaky breath, trying to decide if what he was about to say was the right thing or not. He made his decision. "My goal is to stay in school for the rest of high school and graduate with passing grades in at least two of my classes." Mr. Kerrigan as well as the rest of the class looked at him with wide eyes. No one, especially someone in Donovan's position had ever admitted something like that before, and everyone was stunned.
Continuing with a firm voice, he said, "The fact that almost 90% of the students in this school do not graduate has finally gotten to me. I want to be one of that 10% that make it. I want to matter. That," he said pointing to the Brazilian musical instrument," That, as well as Louis and my Capioera classes have made the difference in my life. I want to graduate. I think that I can, and will make it." Donovan sat down.
"I think that by saying that he wants to graduate, Donovan has taken a big step, don't you think? I know that I'm proud of him." Beckie said with a smile. The other students nodded. Then, they began to clap, and after a few seconds, Donovan realized that they were clapping for him. It felt good, and already he felt that he mattered. The bell rang, and the class was over. On his way out, Donovan picked up his radio, and went over to Mr. Kerrigan's desk.
"Are you planning on telling Louis what you have decided to do, Donovan?" Mr. Kerrigan asked. Shifting uncomfortably, Donovan didn't answer. "I think you should. You already admitted it to yourself, it shouldn't be that hard to tell someone else." Telling him he could go, Donovan made his way down to the courtyard, and found Shay sitting in their usual spot. Sitting down next to him, Donovan asked him if he was ready for the match that afternoon. Smiling, he replied that he was. They settled down to study, and blocked everything out for a little while.
After about fifteen minutes, Shay tapped him on the shoulder. "Isn't that Kerrigan's classroom? They were both up and out of their seats faster then they ever thought they could be. Running up the steps, and into the school, they made their way past everyone trying to go in the opposite direction, and up to Kerrigan's room. Coughing because of the thick smoke, they peered into the room. Yelling for Shay to come on, Donovan ran into the room, and looked around.
Quickly walking over to where Kerrigan lay, the two boys helped the partially unconscious teacher up, and out of the room. Donovan felt compelled to go back, because it felt like there was something missing. "I'll be right back." Turning, he ran back into the fire consumed classroom, in hopes of fixing what he knew was wrong. He looked around the room, and then saw it. The broken pieces of the Brazilian stick that Louis loved.
His first thought was, "why is this in here? It should be at the Dojo. Not in this room." The smoke began to seep into his lungs, and he knew that he was running out of time. Dropping to his knees, he reached the instrument. Picking up one of the pieces, he turned as he heard Shay's voice. Deciding to pay no attention, he refocused on his task. Then, he yelled out as he felt hot objects fall onto his back. Falling to the floor, Donovan heard Shay yell his name one last time, and his body surged with a flash of pain so forceful that he passed out.
He lay in the middle of the burning room, under the smoldering rubble and made no motions of getting up. Time passed.