Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The usual disclaimers do apply. I don't own any of the characters.

A/N: - means next entryin the journal.

Sam

Sam opened up the book to the first page and began to read...

- 'My name is Dash Baxter. I am the starting quarterback for high school football at Casper High as a Freshman. That is just the beginning of the awesomeness that is me. I am the king of the school. I start my day off by praising the gods that I was blessed to be me and not anybody else. I'd hate to be somebody else. I feel sorry for everyone who isn't me. Then I shower. My hair takes about an hour. Hey, it takes time to look this handsome. Then I get dressed putting on my letter jacket for last. Every guy that's worth something has one. Then I go to school. I meet with my friends. They are all super popular. Popularity is what makes you or breaks you here.

I go to classes and then to lunch and back to classes. I make sure to let everyone know who's boss. Everyone knows I'm number one, top dog, good-looking, and if they don't, then I beat it into them.

Now let me tell you exactly how I do my hair so that I can show all guys how to be as hot as me. (A/N: This continued on for two more pages, but Sam skimmed through it)

- DANNY FENTON

Fentina

Fentino

Fentoenail

Fentard

Fentoad

Fentini

- I am God's gift to all mankind. I am the hottest guy, probably in the World, but definitely in this town. All the babes love me. They all wish they could date me. I'm the greatest football player ever. All the guys want to be me. (A/N: Things were written in this nature for another three pages, then there was a blank page. Next is what followed that.)

- The Real Dash Baxter

If you're not me and you went through all of the trouble of reading the nine pages and one blank page before this, then that is all a facade. I guess you stuck with me this long, you deserve to know what I'm really like. I don't take an hour to do my hair, I barely take five minutes. I could care less about Danny Fenton other than the fact that for somebody who isn't popular, he thinks he's better than everyone. I wouldn't even bother with him if my dad didn't make me. Just because my dad doesn't like his parents, I have to torture him once a day or I get punished. Yeah, doesn't make sense to me either.

Speaking of popularity though, I wish I wasn't, popular that is. They're all shallow, vain, and fake. My only real friend is Kwan. If it was up to me, Valerie could have stayed sitting with us whether she's rich or not, but I've got an image I've got to uphold. An image that I hate. If you go to Casper High and you hear the name Dash Baxter, then you automatically think jock, bully, A-Lister, dumb.

You wouldn't think that I'm a straight A student with a 4.0 GPA and on the Honor Roll. Mr. Lancer and I have a deal, he doesn't make a big deal out of how smart I am, and I redirect the A-listers ideas of pranking him to someone else. If anyone on that list knew, then I'd be off the A-list faster than I would know what to do with. I'd actually be happy with that as long as I still got to play football. Kwan would still be my friend, we just wouldn't associate during school, just like we did when he got kicked off. My dad on the other hand would not be happy.

(A/N: A few entries later)

- I can't believe I didn't shove Danny into his locker. I didn't even insult him. My dad is going to go mental. I know what you're thinking, why would your dad go mental over you not beating somebody up? He thinks that since Danny's parents are 'Ghost Freaks,' that it needs to be beat out of him before the idea takes root in his head. He's been making sure I've 'done my duty' since they moved here. Of course he's gonna ask Kwan and Kwan will say 'nope' like it's no big deal. But guess what? It is a big deal. I hope he doesn't bring the bat into my 'lecture' this time. Last time he broke the bat on my throwing arm. Then when I didn't throw a perfect spiral because my arm was messed up, I got another 'lecture.' That time it was the leather whip on my back with glass embedded at the ends. At least mom was grocery shopping that time and I had all the blood cleaned up before she got home.

- Dad broke three ribs this time. At least this one didn't puncture a lung. It's hard to pretend that you're not in pain when you can barely breathe. I actually got to go to a hospital this time, fourteen cities away from our little town just in case, but still a hospital none-the-less. Mom wanted to come with me, but I wanted her safe away from him. As long as he's with me, he can't hurt her.

I could almost pass for a paramedic with how good I am at wrapping up broken bones, sprains, etc. When we're allowed to go to the hospital, they usually comment on the professional wrapping of whatever it happens to be. My dad will immediately chip in with the answer of the athletic doctor or whatever it is if it's me or that the paramedic did it in the ambulance if it's my mom. It helps that I read everything I can get my hands on for things to do with that subject. I read medical journals, biology books, anatomy books, medical encyclopedias, even medical textbooks from places like Harvard. I'm a closet geek, but it's come in handy plenty of times.

Sam shut the journal and stared at it like a moron. The first ten pages was the Dash that he let the World see. She couldn't believe what she read after that. She decided that she was going to read an entry a day in order to get to know the real Dash better. She made a deal with her parents after they got back to the hotel that night. She wouldn't complain about going anywhere or doing anything from noon until seven p.m. Before and after those times all bets were off as she was not a morning person by any means and even saints wouldn't be able to hold their tongues after seven hours. Then when seven arrived, they would drop her off at the hotel and either go to dinner, opera, dancing, etc. for the evening without her.

Each day Sam read something from Dash's journal. She really liked the guy he seemed to be behind closed doors. She couldn't believe all of the horrors that his dad put them through. She started to understand him a little better. She opened it up again and read another entry as she did every night. (A/N: Each entry is read on a different day.)

- Mrs. Willow saw me this time. I hope she doesn't tell my dad. I've been maintaining her yard for her, whether it's mowing grass, raking leaves, or shoveling the walkways when it snows for the last three years. I've been really careful to make sure that she, and some of the other people I help, don't see me. If they tell my mom, she'll tell me how proud she is of me, but to be careful. If they tell my dad, then he says 'That's my boy' to them, but to me he says that only wimps and weaklings help people and expect nothing in return. Then he'll go through the nine forms of punishment in order to beat the 'weakness' out of me. Whatever. Someday, I'll make sure my mom's safe, then I'll show him nine forms of punishment.

Open handed blows, usually he goes right to four or five for punishment, these are more like 'hellos' anymore. I usually get at least three right when he sees me.

Punches by his fist.

Aluminum baseball bat, this one doesn't hurt nearly as much as the others.

Wooden baseball bat, I don't know why we have so many baseball bats in the first place because none of us play baseball.

Steel baseball bat, specially crafted by my dear old dad.

Leather whip.

Leather whip split into three at the end.

Leather whip split into three at the end with glass embedded in it.

Mini blowtorch. It's not actually a blowtorch, I doubt even he would get away with that. It's this small device that shoots flame in a concentrated area. One pass across your skin and it's welted, red, and bubbling. Heaven forbid you get more than one pass because for one thing it's extremely painful, which is probably why it's number nine, but eventually it strips away your flesh completely leaving either puss or blood behind.

Nobody knows what they do by telling my dad my 'good' attributes. Like the time Mr. Hernandez tried to tell my dad that I was one of the highest test scorers on the ACT and SAT prep or the time that Mrs. Milo tried to convince my dad of my virtues when she found out I was the one who bought groceries for the homeless shelter every Saturday after football practice. I got punishments 3, 4, 5, 6, & 7 for those. My dad's reasoning was for the prep that I'd start to think I was better than everybody else. As for the homeless shelter, he thought I was rewarding them for being bums.

I still do it anyway, I just make triply sure not to get caught. I know exactly when the homeless shelter coordinator goes out to their car to get their sack lunch and that's when I deposit the groceries before hightailing it out of there. I make sure they have fresh fruits and vegetables and once a month I bring clothing such as shoes of all sizes, coats, gloves, and hats in the winter.

Dash Baxter, at least as the World knows him, wouldn't step foot in a homeless shelter, soup kitchen, or regularly spend time with people at nursing homes who have no one else. Don Brown, and Bobby Black, my aliases, often spend time doing just those things after football practice.

My family has more money than even my dad can drink and gamble away, not that he doesn't try on a nightly basis. I find myself fortunate for the life I have. I mean I have excellent health, scars and broken bones excluded, but I hardly ever get colds, bronchitis, or anything that I would have to take an antibiotic for. I have a mom who would do anything for me if she could and I know she loves me without a doubt. Some of the people I visit either don't have family or their families have all but forgotten them. It's not only my duty to help them in any way I can, it's an honor. Besides with my allowance, I still have quite enough money each week for anything else I might need a million times over.

You'd probably think that I wouldn't get an allowance, but I get an allowance for everything good I do that's football related. My mom gives me allowance for my good grades. She sets aside some of the grocery money aside to be able to do it. My dad doesn't know or I'm sure that would be stopping immediately. He doesn't know grocery costs, the only thing he knows is the cost of liqueur.

I won't ever see another person from Casper High at any one of those places except for Sam Manson. She comes into the soup kitchen to help out a lot of times and I hide or make like I have to leave early. She wouldn't understand. I wish I could explain it to her. Course the fact that I shove her best friend in a locker on a daily basis would only be one of the many deterrents from her believing me.

- Samantha Charlene Manson. What can I say about her? If I were able to allow myself to think of myself as being able to have a future with someone, Sam would be my dream girl. She's everything that I could ever want in a girlfriend. She's loyal almost to a fault. She has a kindness that's basically unheard of in high school students. She stands up for what she believes in even if no one else believes it with her.

She's got the eyes of a goddess, the mind of a intellectual, and the patience of a saint. Her eyes are the most beautiful color I've ever seen. She ranks second in our entire class just barely under me. Her patience in dealing with Danny and Tucker, her two best friends, is astounding. She's got a dry wit and sarcastic sense of humor.

I remember the first day I saw her. It was the summer before kindergarten and her parents invited all the neighborhood kids to their mansion, I don't think anybody else remembers, so she could get a head start on making friends. She was wearing a pink dress and her hair was down to her waist.

She fascinated me right from the start. I thought she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen besides my mom. All the other little girls were all pretending to be princesses. She on the other hand wanted to play with the boys. I couldn't play because my dad broke my arm. The other boys wouldn't let her play saying she had cooties.

She went into the kitchen and I followed her. She sat down in the corner and pouted. She was pulling at the collar of her dress. I'd never seen a girl look so uncomfortable in a dress. She was grumbling about 'stupid boys' and 'icky pinkness.' I'd never thought I'd see the day that there was a girl who didn't like pink.

I had a black permanent marker in my pants pocket because my mom had just finished putting my name on the tags in my clothes when my ride came. She didn't have any time to do anything else with it so she just told me to put it in my pocket and bring it back when I got home.

I walked up to her and asked why she's wearing a pink dress if she didn't like the color. She answered that her mom picked out the dress and made her promise to wear it. I asked what color she would want to wear. She said she wouldn't want to wear a dress at all, but if she had to then she would choose any color but pink. Her mom, apparently, only ever bought her pink dresses. I thought I had a brilliant idea and took out the permanent marker. I told her we could color her dress black.

We spent the next hour trying to color her dress black. It looked horrible, but she was so happy. She signed my cast when she was done. I told her that if I was able to play that I would allow her to play with me. I told her I didn't think she had cooties. She thanked me and kissed my cheek. I've been smitten ever since.

I've watched her surreptitiously throughout the years. I noticed when she became first a vegetarian, then a vegan, and finally an Ultra-recyclo vegetarian. I watched as she became more impassioned about things she believed in and embraced her individuality. I noticed every outfit change and every different hairstyle.

It was both the best and worst thing when Sam became best friends with Danny Fenton. Best because since I'm required to at least talk to Danny everyday and she's always with him, I get to see and talk to her almost everyday. Most of it's spitting scathing remarks at me, but at least I get to hear her voice. It's the worst thing because Danny drives me nuts and she could do so much better than him. I mean she's friends with Tucker Foley too, but he also lacks in some ways.

It's not because they're not rich, popular, or jocks. I could care less. In fact it's mostly preferred in terms of what I'd want in friends if I was able to choose myself. No, it's because they treat Sam like dirt. I don't think it's intentionally or anything, but a lot of times I notice that they disrespect and underestimate her. They ignore or belittle some of her comments and opinions. Danny, as I mentioned in previous entries, thinks he's better than everyone.

He's got this air of superiority and arrogance he puts off. I know he's Danny Phantom. It's so obvious, it makes me wonder how everyone doesn't figure it out. How stupid are people anyway? First off – Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom. Could he choose a name that was any closer to the original? Secondly take Danny Fenton and give him a white wig and green contacts and you get Danny Phantom. I mean seriously, he even has the same hairstyle, it's just a different color. I know he doesn't turn into his alter ego with a wig and contacts; I've seen him transform or whatever it is he does. So that might have something to do with his attitude toward others, but I'm pretty sure he was like that even before he changed.

Tucker Foley isn't so bad. He just happens to think he's God's gift to women. The girls at school make jokes about how many times he's asked them out and been turned down. He also seems to think he's better than everyone, maybe not better but definitely smarter. At least he has an excuse for that. I mean out of our entire class, he's one of the top five. I'm first, Sam's second, and Tucker's fifth.

Sam couldn't believe Dash thought so highly of her. She was usually considered too opinionated, too tomboyish even though she wore miniskirts, too whatever. The fact that he thought she would be the perfect girlfriend both boosted her self-esteem and messed with her head.

- My dad went to my game today. It's a lucky thing I happen to love football since my dad seems to live it vicariously through me. Can you imagine how much my life would suck if I hated the sport? I both love and hate when my dad comes to my games.

I love it because it almost feels as if he cares even though he cares about the game and not me. I hate it because he critiques every single play. When we get home I hear all about every mistake he believes I made. Occasionally he'll throw in something good I did, but it's immediately followed by how it'd better be better the next time he comes. He only comes to about one a month, thankfully.

- My mom's in the hospital thirty cities away. I've stepped in between my dad and my mom since I was eight. This time he got home early and decided to take advantage of it while I was still in school. I went to see her. She looks awful. Apparently he decided to give her all the beatings I'd taken for her all at once. Do you have any idea how many beatings she'd 'built' up? Both her right leg and left arm are broken, so are sixteen ribs. She's got one eye swollen shut, a shattered jaw, a broken nose, five teeth are missing, and she was put in a medically induced coma.

I stayed with her as long as I could, but eventually I had to go back. I couldn't miss school no matter what. I'm gonna spend the whole weekend by her side though. I know she'll be safe in the hospital at least. My dad can't be with her because he's got to act the part of the doting father while my mother's 'on vacation.' I'm so glad even if it means I have to suffer more in her absence he can't completely destroy her.

- My mom was woken up today. I think the doctors and nurses are starting to notice that something's wrong with my family. I think it gave kind of a big hint when my dad showed up and my mom whimpered and tried to make herself as small as possible, which wasn't a lot given her injuries. Then I suppose I made it more obvious when I stood up and kept in between them not letting him get more than two feet from her.

- I'm taking care of my mom now that she's home. I'm not letting my dad near her. I'm also making the dinner and cleaning the house. I even booby trapped my mom's room so that if my dad tries to get in while I'm not there, let's just say not even he will try again. I think I'm getting the hang of being a caregiver.

I'm still working on my cooking skills. My mom can only drink liquid still and that's harder to burn. I'm eating less charred mac and cheese. Sandwiches are pretty easy. Salads are as well, they just take a little more work. Plus I need to have more than salad to keep my body in key football shape.

- Oh my, oh my, oh my. I can't believe this happened. What am I gonna do? I can't tell anyone, not that they'd believe me anyway, but he was gonna kill her. What was I supposed to do, let him? It's one thing to beat up on me, I can take it. I even let him have a semi-free pass for putting my mother in the hospital as long as he stayed away from her after that. Her jaws are wired shut for another six months and she can only drink through a straw.

It's not like she could defend herself, not that she could do much before, but now she's almost completely dependent on me. I've never been needed before. I'll probably never be needed again, but that's not the point. I just about killed my dad. I mean I came home and apparently he figured out my system or maybe I forgot to set it up because he was in her room standing over her with his intent clear. He had his hands around her throat and she was turning blue from lack of oxygen. I didn't even think, I just acted.

I grabbed the first thing I could think of, which happened to be the steel baseball bat. I swung it at his head. He let go of her and she fell back trying to gasp for breath, which was kind of hard to do with her jaw being wired shut. He turned to face me with blood dripping down the side of his face. He started toward me and I did what my instincts told me to do and swung at him again and again until he went down. I kept it up even then and I probably would have kept going if my mom hadn't of started hyperventilating.

I checked on my dad real quick to make sure he was out cold, then went to my mom. I had to get the oxygen tank because she wasn't getting enough air. Luckily I knew what to do from the things that I read. My mom might be dead if I hadn't. I knew I needed an ambulance for both of my parents. Hopefully it won't make it through the gossip grapevine. Probably not, but I can dream.

- I'm being placed in foster care. I tried to tell them that I could take care of myself, but they said it just wasn't plausible. I took care of my mom for three months before the bat incident. If I can give medicine, make food, change clothes, and change bed pans for my mom without trouble and without complaint, then I can clearly take care of myself. They didn't see it that way.

So here's what happened: I called the ambulance and when it came and the paramedics arrived, I had to tell all of the injuries and everything I did to treat it while waiting for them to arrive. My dad was still passed out on the ground with blood everywhere. The baseball bat was lying next to him. I wanted to go with my mother, but the paramedics called the police because it was obvious my father was assaulted.

I was put in the back of the police vehicle and taken to the precinct. I got the distinct impression that the arresting officer thinks I did it unprovoked. I was put into the holding cell for hours without them telling me anything. I guess I must look older than I am because when I told them I was fifteen and it probably constituted as cruel and unusual punishment I was promptly let out and into the questioning room.

I was asked millions of questions. I ended up admitting to assaulting my dad because he was in the process of what looked to be killing my mom. I asked how my mom was and was told she was being stabilized. That meant she wasn't stabilized yet. They asked if my dad had showed tendencies of violence before. Well, they asked.

It took five hours of interrogation and for them to check out the stories of all the names I'd said we'd used at different hospitals across the state. When they came back after comparing notes, they asked if I had any undeniable proof of my father's violence. All I had to do was take off my shirt. There was plenty of evidence in both the front and back.

I wasn't charged for two reasons. The first was that it was defense for the third party, or something like that. The second was that I'm a minor. The DA would probably want to try me as an adult. By the end they had everything they needed to charge my dad on 123 counts of assault, 50 assaults with a deadly weapon, and 90 child endangerment acts. If he was found guilty, he'd be going to jail for a very long time. They don't like wife beaters in jail, so maybe he'll get what's coming to him. I don't want him to die or anything, I just think he needs to know how it feels to be helpless and at the mercy of someone else.

- My mother is still in the hospital and my father's in jail. I'm being put in foster care until they can determine whether my mother is a fit parent or not. I told Kwan that my father was simply moving us to the other side of town and that it needed to be a secret. There was no way I could tell anyone what was really going on.

- I've been in the foster care system for more than a month. They're no closer to reaching a decision now than they were before about my mother. She's still in the hospital due to some complications from the lack of oxygen she was able to get after being strangled.

My father's trial isn't for another three months. I'm stuck here for awhile. I have no other relatives that I know of. My father's family is all dead and my mother's family disowned her when she became pregnant with me. They disapproved of her choices and the consequences were no more family. She wouldn't give me up. They said she could stay if she either gave me up for adoption or aborted me. That wasn't an option for my mom.

- I've run away from foster care. Nobody will say anything because they don't want to be seen as incompetent. My dad is officially in jail, my mom was judged as unfit to be a legal guardian, and I became a ward of the state at the age of fifteen. The bank foreclosed on our old house and it was sold so I couldn't have stayed there. Nobody bugs me about going back as long as I go to school and football practice. They don't know where I'm staying and they say it can stay that way if I show up on time with good hygiene.

I live in the school. I know what you're thinking, but it's not that bad. I use the showers in the guys locker room. I already have my meals paid up through the end of school so that takes care of one meal a day. I sleep in a sleeping bag that I shove in an empty locker during the day. It's actually really comfortable. I could afford my own place with how much money I have saved up, but nobody's selling or renting to a fifteen year old.

I know exactly when the janitors get here to unlock the doors in the morning and what time it's locked up for night. I use the fridge and microwave in the teacher's lounge and keep my food hidden in the very back of the fridge. I go to the laundromat in town once a week and have all my clothes hidden in different places.

I don't know what I'm gonna do during the summer when school is closed, but for now I got it pretty good.

- I'm still training for football as hard as my dad would make me. I want to be able to get a full scholarship somewhere in both football and academics. I don't want to be a pro or anything, but I think college ball would be a lot more challenging.

I took the placement test because I was curious. I could be a senior if I really wanted to. I don't want to do that. Next year, however; I'm going to take dual credit AP classes. That means they'll count for both high school and college. It's a new program they're starting. I think I'll hint around to have Mr. Lancer tell Sam about it.

- You know I was thinking about it and I don't have to be a bully anymore. I don't have to act stupid or hide doing good deeds. I'm not gonna show off or anything, but acting even marginally smarter will be better.

I'm going to implement this next school year so maybe they'll think I had a change of heart over summer. That way it won't seem as if I'm the 'me' that they know one day and acting like somebody else the next.

I still shove Danny in his locker in order for this to work. I try to show apology with my eyes, but I don't think anybody saw it. It doesn't matter. Next year's gonna be great because I'll be able to act like the real me for the first time ever without fear of punishment and they'll finally let me visit my mom. She still hasn't quite fully recovered. That coupled with the fact that she was considered an unfit parent sent her over the edge and she was institutionalized. I'll be able to see her for the first time in person, we've been video chatting so we can see each other, she still can't talk but she holds up signs for me to read and I answer vocally, in September.

Sam couldn't believe that so much had happened to Dash in his short life. It was hard to believe that he lived in the school. She wanted to do something to help him come out from hiding within himself now that he was willing and able to let the 'real Dash' shine through. She thought about it a lot and finally she decided she knew what she was gonna do. She didn't know if it would work or not, but she was gonna give it a shot.

A/N: What did you think? Was that an interesting development?