I know most of you were expecting another chapter, but today is going to be something different. First, I’d like to thank Marathon, my editor, once again for staying with me for over half of the current chapters. Second, I want to thank all of you, each of you, for continuing to read this story, no matter how long it’s becoming. Every comment you drop, every like you give, every little fav I see is what encourages me to keep going. Don’t get me wrong, I know that even if this isn’t as recognized as most fics, and that the point of uploading is to tell the story, you guys are what reassures me this story won’t be something everyone just casts aside.
Now, why I’ve done all this. Today, March 18, 2014… is Dan’s birthday. If most of you have read the author’s note from several chapters ago, you’ll know that Daniel Martin Fondor is not some human OC that everyone loves. He was a living person a few years ago. My best and only friend at the time. Today is his birthday… and I want to make sure he isn’t forgotten. And it wasn’t a lie that he got me drunk once. It was a joke, and I didn’t get into too much trouble. But, even so, I want to celebrate with you all, and tell you exactly how I met Daniel Fondor.
I was… 7, I believe? Or 8; THE POINT, is that we met when we were young. As I said before, I wasn’t too popular, as many of the children were dicks and assholes (even the younger kids). I only got roughed up once or twice, but I was fighting someone at 8, so not much to actually worry about. Still, it was after a fight with some kid, whose name shall not be credited, that Dan met me. Or, I met him… and by “met” I mean Dan tackled him, but you know what I mean. Sure, he got suspended [after being dragged away by a cop (yes, it was this bad)] but we met the next Tuesday. I asked him if he got hurt, and he actually scraped his knee when he tackled the kid, but otherwise he was fine. I asked him why did he help me, and he just smiled and laughed. I never understood why, and believe me, I still don’t know why.
So, during recess he asked me if I wanted to come over to his house, since he usually passed by mine on the way to his. He only lived a block down the street, which I was surprised about. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just said yes. I couldn’t go that day, but the next was free for me. At that age, what else were we supposed to do except play with dinosaurs and Power Rangers? Mainstream things were the best!
We ended up asking each other about all these different things, and finally he asked me why I didn’t talk much. I hadn’t been asking much, since I was in the home of a kid who I barely knew, and anyone else I know on a personal level knows I talk WAAY too much. But with him, at first, I couldn’t. It didn’t take long for us to always see each other, and we spent even more time together in the Little League Baseball. I couldn’t swing for crap, but I could catch, throw, and run. Dan was Mr. Heavy Hitter. And by that I mean he hit it just a bit past second base. But that was fun.… a lot of fun.
Of course, Dan was smart and fun and was already starting his DJ career, thanks to his cousin who was also a DJ. I grew up listening to lots of his music, which was actually pretty catchy, and we shared our favorite genres with each other. In a school, since we had a few classes together (and I mean grammar school) I got picked on for being the smart one who showed his colors. That… and because I was a year younger than all kids in my grade. So one day, Dan finally had enough and told off half of the class without a single swear. And since our teacher knew she could only take action if he swore… we were off the hook.
So, couple years went by, and Dan and I were getting ready for graduation. My best friend was a head bigger than me, and being in swimming made him solid all over. I swam too, but I didn't go into it for high school. Graduation day, we went up on that stage, and I remember the entire 12th grade cheering for him. There was a party in the gym, teachers supervising, and Front Door was up to his shenanigans. He personally offered the first cups of spiked fruit punch to the teachers, then somehow slipped something into the other pitchers. I remember lots of throw up, a few sleeping kids, and Front Door jamming out.
Slept over at his house, then found out that his father was in on it. My parents went a little crazy when I didn't tell them where I'd gone, and even more angry that I slept over without calling. But at least I didn't smell like booze!
Then… in the summer… me and Dan fought. I swear to each and every one of you, to my parents and to my siblings, that I can't remember what happened. I can't remember what it was about… or what even brought us there. All I can remember is telling Dan to go screw himself… then hearing him tell me how glad he was to be moving. I… I had a young mindset… and I had a horrible temper… which made it impossible for me to let a grudge go.
I don't know how my parents kept me "clean", especially with all the violence and bad influences in my neighborhood. But now that I look back on it… a little more swearing and fighting would have helped me with that argument. Would've kept me from acting like a child.
A couple months later… Dan was gone. I saw the truck… and the car… and him. He didn't see me… but I yearned to apologize and make amends. Problem was… I didn't think he'd accept it.
And that was the last time I saw him.
Four years after that day, he died in a car accident.
Three years after that… and here I am… barely moving on.
It isn't the warmest tale, and it isn't the longest one… but I wanted to make sure Dan wasn't forgotten.
Again… thank you all for your encouragement. And… if Dan were here… I know he'd tell me to keep going, to finish this story no matter what "asshole" told me otherwise.
So, as always: like, fav, comment, have an awesome day or night, and always keep your friends close. Because they might be what changes your life.
Peace.
~~That_Random_Pony