View Full Version : The Life of Danny Allister (2369 Words) (So far)

November 4th, 2016, 06:06 AM
September 11 2005

After befriending a friend of mine, today looked like it was going to be new school year at this new local high school that I just enrolled with my mom. Payed a fee and got in, no issues ensued. Seemed like my days at this school or at least I wondered to my eyes was going to be easy or hoping it would be in the better sense. You see I was a mere grade 9 boy coming to this school with the instinct of making friends, everybody wanted to make friends whenever they were at a new school. It’s human nature at its epitome. I wanted lots of friends and lots of good memories here just liked everyone else. Middle school was averagely boring and not a drop of risk-takers or anyone trying to web some sort of dominance over who was the popular one or who was the one that was going to make a living hell out of your life. Maybe even the rest of it, for sure coming here especially on the first day is alright, sadly not for me. Bullied and name-called constantly, a bombardment of words throwing over and over in circles like cars in a roundabout in a European country. For someone like me I was only a niner you wouldn’t think that someone so uppdy and full of great perseverance and a great personality like me would get into such adversity. I was only a kid, as well as them. They stood around there leaning against the wall and being pricks like they are and I’m honest about what I say when I meant that. They were the wannable hip-hop heads or rap kids with baggy pants and classic IPod wearer’s (circa 2000) which I’d admit was pretty sick that they still rock those things. Surprisingly, walking along the halls one day I suddenly felt inadequate feeling like I was never going to stand-out from the endless eternal crowd that I was facing when trudging through the halls of the school. Some kids just talked for a brief moment and went to their lockers and bickered about how they preferred one emo band over another or ran late to class forgetting they left something in their locker. It was brutal, I had a scuffle with one kid who told me I supposedly was talking shit to him behind his back. The rumors caught on that I was some sort of shit talker or something like that, a massive one. Seems that was how things were run here. Accosted or just interrogated like it was the end of your life that you did something so horrendous. Ok I get it,

One time this kid got so mad that he punched me right in the face for real because I was talking so much shit, enough I got that I know that you think I was talking shit, doesn’t give you that right to attack me. In 2006 was the year it happened I was alright with it. I went over to the teachers and told them about it. Yeah, it was done with.

“Danny Allister, You’re free to go back to class,” said one of the counselors

“Thanks miss,” I replied

I still remembered those words ‘You want more! You want more!’ I literally wanted to hurt this kid for his constant harassment over a ludicrous thing. I’m doing nothing to you man,

When I came to grips about my lack of friends due to scuffles with another teenager, I heard an announcement one day and they told me about clubs specifically about one called a ‘Humanitarian’ I was excited because this was my chance to make friends and at the same time do some altruism for once. I would be more than glad to do so, why not? When I got there I was more interested in meeting who I was going to be partnered with rather than what was going to do. No idea why I wanted this but it had something to do with teenager tendencies or urges if you will. They talked about having to introduce ourselves and be as informative as possible, having to speak in such a way that was going to benefit from the group. I was curious to make friends and tell them everything about myself what I wanted to do truly, what I was aiming to strive myself as, you know the whole I-want-to-be myself but please others to help me become the person that I want to be. Now after all the introductions were made, I was acquainted with this girl and she was like this know-it-all girl maybe like grade 12 eating chips down and eating them in one gulp. Impressive, that would be something of a gneiss world record. This girl was like someone that could outsmart you in a game of jeopardy or something. Like in a game show, she was the most beautiful and she had the loveliest skin tone ever; light brown with glasses to match. There was no way I could talk to her and that this was humanitarian club so what was more prevenient right now was to do humanitarian things. When we got down to it, we sketched some ideas.

“Here you go for this, I’ll draw that,” said Chelsey Green

“Yeah… so I guess we’re partnered huh?”

I hadn’t mentioned before that I was partnered with Chelsey the one I was talking about how lovely she was. It was great but I had someone else in mind though.

“You done?”

“Ummm.. sure? So what I am doing,” I figeted with my hair and looked at her confusingly
“No worries, we’re sketching out ideas for what you are planning to do for humanitarian club,”

“Yep! Got it!”

Added “Let’s get busy,”

She smiled “Yeah,”

When our after school club ended for the day I waved goodbye to my club mates and made some friends along the ticking tocks of the clock. Was pretty slow but I hadn’t cared since we were so preoccupied anyway. Well looks I like I have friends to be with and they said they could hang out with me if I ever bumped into them during periods 3 and 4 (I’d have to skip classes 1 and 2 if I ever wanted to see them) and I did just I had to be careful of teachers and guidance counselees patrolling the hallways ha! I got home and did some reading about being a journalist I liked to be one and it something else I wanted to excel in. The thing is I had this idea of a white light and these kids that I’d interview would pop up from the room or wherever that we were in. And they would talk about how it was to be a teenager or however it was to be in the mind of one. They’d each explain their darkest and most secretive thing or speak in a way that would show me their frail side. They could swear they could convey something that would tell me who it is that they were. And they would not know the impact they’d make from such a conversation that could change the way teenagers or anyone could make. I liked the fact that you could talk to anyone and be yourself, though I had to be taken seriously since I was only a ‘niner’ it’ll be something I’d never want to ever embark on though.
Only because I was nervous if they’d ask me if someone like me has anything better to do. I wanted to know if you’d like to even try to say a few question’s and that’s what I’d say.

My mother told me to get some sleep and the next day something awful happened in the meanwhile of our work studies and stuff a girl came up to me and it looked like one of my friends. Who I had befriend from a long time ago. A year ago really, exaggerating,

“Danny, well hey!” she said

She came over to be from the entrance of the school, around the corners of it and told something through my ear.

“Something’s up and you’re not going to make out of this school alive kid,”

I whispered back

“I’m sorry but you’re not someone I know anymore,”

“Come again?”

“You know the story,”

“Good Danny I just made some new friends today, we could have been friends forever you know, you promised me,”
“First day as well?” I asked whispering

“Yeah duffance, it’s like the second day of school, September duh?”

“See you later,” I left after her inappropriate words were said

I didn’t waste time talking to her after she took off with her new friend and maybe many more if I ever stuck around here. Today was the school dance and after the usual math science, English blah blah blah. It was school carpet day (red carpet day like in Hollywood) get it? And there was this girl who was just arriving at the school dance. I would say that it was getting interesting you know, Danny Allister? School dance? Something bout to happen? Of course not, I can’t dance, and even if I was trying to learn how I’d fail miserably. But this girl who was here at the line-up name was Belinda Victoria and she was this brunette haired girl who was dressed in these ambiguous clothes like she was trying to something for us in the imagination; promiscuous clothes, a hairpiece too let her hair down like a waterfall cascade. It was magical, her glowy brown hair flapping in the air vents of the hall. Something, when the line started to move I felt nervous and wanted to say something to her when I got by. She stood there outside by the gym doors acting like one of the popular kids, yet she wasn’t even popular at all.


“What do you want,”

“Just wanted to talk to you-“

“Who are you?”

She snapped her fingers

“Oh yeah wait, you’re the shit-taker,”

Awkwardly nodding “Yeah... that’s me,”

“You’re a niner right?” questioning as she played with her hair

“You coming inside?” I asked

“It’s easier to just fuck it,”


“Let’s get outta here, come you seem cute wanna do something bad?”

“Umm no?” I said disregardedly

She left and her friends or click if you will, she had friends but seemed to be shallow and stuck up like they owned the school or something. Never in my life would I want to run into them again, schools big enough to outrun them anyway. I went inside as the line started moving again. And out went my moves on the dancefloor. They played top 40 music and it was cool. Black-eyed peas, 50 cent etc, though I didn’t like rap music not my taste in genre’s. continuing to play music and my moves. I had no idea where they came from, it was like natural instinct to move to the music. Two-stepping and gliding on the floor like I was Michael Jackson, holding my crouch. God, what was I doing? After the dance was over. People were amazed at my dancing and wanted to know if I was professional dancer.

Shrugging “What? It’s just a talent I guess,”

Belinda stood there after arriving back from wherever she was and came to me with a smirk and a phone number she saw me? She saw me dancing? Great now she’s going to ask me for something.

“Here, you’re more interesting than I thought,”

She handed me her phone number and things got weird. Already on the second day of school wow! When I got home I wondered if calling her would be ok. I didn’t have a girlfriend and the sensibilities of having a girlfriend were reputable to one’s status. I’d be free from all the rumors and the thing is she didn’t mention of me being a snitch. In 2005 being a snitch means the worst thing for a grade 9. Being a snitch is a like death wish of your high school social life. But she didn’t say or even hear that I was a tattle-teller, I know she wouldn’t think less of me she couldn’t be that ridiculous.

I gave a call dialing the buttons on the phone.

“Hello Belinda,”

“Who is this?” a voice resembling a male, possibly in his 40’s

“Uhhh, wrong number!”

What was that? Why did I hang up? Did she play me or something? Why did I get an answer from her dad or whoever was on the phone? This had to be tried again, I dialed up.

“Sorry this is Danny,”

“Danny? Is this one of Belinda’s random guy-friends?”

I made a fib “Yeah this is his teacher, and I would like to speak to your students of our school, Timothy L Letcher Secondary School,”

I got the information from the actual school to make the lie seem authentic
“Oh ok, glad to hear, yeah I’ll get on Belinda on the line, hey Belinda!”


I hear her voice through the telephone with the thumping of the stairs.


“It’s me Danny,”

“So is it true?”


“Did you really snitch on Macklemore?”

She finally said it, well I was the unlucky one after all. This was the worst day of my life and the worst thing I had ever did; talking to Belinda while lying my way to speak to her.

“I’m hanging up,”

“Wait it’s ok, I don’t care Danny,”

“You don’t?”

“Why would you?”

“Umm ok, thought you’d be the type that would,”

“Nah, I like you, and those moves were awesome,”

Adding “Mr. Michael Jackson,”


I stuttered “Are you player?”


“It’s a date!”

What? She like read my mind

“Yeah come over, or wait you can’t,”

“Hold on, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?”

“No shit Sherlock,”

Best day ever, though I was dreaming, she actually said yes she hung up and I had some grub and went to lalala land. The day of school two people came up to me and looked like Samantha and the guy who assaulted me.

“Get lost!” I exclaimed

November 4th, 2016, 03:11 PM
Hi, what stage are you at with this (early draft, later draft? etc) and would you like comments on it, or are you just putting out "out there"? :)

November 4th, 2016, 06:41 PM
I would like comments on it, it's still a work in progress.

November 8th, 2016, 04:01 AM
Well I like your flow but... but did you read this thing over ?

There are a whole lot of errors and the grammar is, at times, all over the place.
Also there's basically no coherence between many of your phrases.

But apart from that, I find there is some talent to your writing and it kinda kept me interested to keep on reading.

You have a nice flow and I like the spontaneous feel to this but keep in mind even spontaneous prose needs to be coherent lol.

Apart from the incoherence your style is quite engaging.

Jay Greenstein
November 8th, 2016, 05:35 AM
Have your computer read this aloud to you and you'll hear what reader does when they read. The story works when you read it because you hear yourself, complete with vocal and visual storytelling tricks. But you have intent guiding you. So for you, every line points to images, ideas, dialog, and story, all stored in your mind. But what about the reader? Your intent dribbles from the words as the keyboard, and your performance doesn't make it to the reader's eyes and ears. So for them, every line points to images, ideas, dialog, and story, all stored in your mind. And since you're not there to ask...

In person, we tell the story. We have to, because we're alone in stage, without even slides to show the action. So you must illustrate the action with things like vocal tricks, and visual tricks of illustration and punctuation. Of necessity, you provide a summation for the reader. After all, you can't play the murderer and the victim at the same time.

But on the page you have a team of actors at your bidding, willing to die on command, if necessary. So of course, there's an entirely different set of tricks from those used for storytelling. And that, as it so often is, is my suggestion to you: pick up a few of those tricks, and the specialized knowledge the pros use. It makes the job a lot easier. There's a lot more than we think to writing fiction for the page, and lots of things that are only obvious after they're pointed out—just like and other profession or trade. A few books from the local library system's fiction writing section, like chicken soup for a cold, can't hurt.

Hang in there, and keep on writing.

November 8th, 2016, 06:30 AM
Thanks you guys. This story is basically about my life in High School from 2005-2010 so it centers around a fictional character going through life and joins a humantarian club. I worked hard working on this project and I hope it turns into a film with morgan freeman as the narrator.