Danny Clark is a Nobody

Chapter Six

I was sitting on my bed and reading my book in peace. I wanted to feel comfortable, but I just couldn't. My t-shirt was sticking to my bandaged wounds, and it still stung really badly. I hoped it wouldn't get infected, but I couldn't really do anything else. They can't know shit about me.

I kept glancing at my shirt, reassuring myself that I wasn't bleeding through the bandages. I kept readjusting my seating, and groaning with frustration. I could handle pain. I just couldn't handle the uncomfortable feeling of the bandages. Sighing heavily, I got up and decided to do something incredibly foolish. I took off the bandages. There was nothing stopping me from bleeding onto my t-shirt.

But I couldn't take it anymore. I've always hated bandages, which is probably why I've gotten way too many wounds infected. I laid down awkwardly, avoiding touching my chest. I looked at my new phone, still not believing that it was mine. I glanced at the clock. 5:57 p.m.. I groaned. I wasn't hungry but I was going to have to eat.

I got up, ran a hand through my hair, and exited the room. I walked down the stairs quietly, and past the kitchen, into the dining room. Freddie, Blake, James, and Sam were already sitting patiently at the table, making calm conversation. I walked in and took my previous seat next to Sam. I wasn't in the mood to talk to people, but responded nonetheless when they included me. Which they didn't do much, I guess my face gave away the emptiness of my social battery.

At exactly 6:00 p.m., Michael entered the room. He smiled at all 5 of us, and sat at the head of the table. As if the short woman was waiting for Michael to be seated, she came back in with some food. The amount was considerably less than lunchtime. "I've arranged that the food be sent out to multiple shelters, as you suggested, Danny. That was incredibly thoughtful of you." Michael said, a proud gleam in his eyes. I smiled. "Thank you."

For dinner, I got a sandwich. I was still rather full from lunch, so I ate my sandwich slowly. The others, however, ate as much as they did during lunchtime. God, I was weird.

Halfway through my sandwich, I felt too full to continue. "Sam tells me you've gotten a new phone." Michael spoke, catching my attention. I looked up at him and nodded my head. "It was very kind of Sam to buy one for me." I smiled gratefully. "Aww, anything for you, lil bro." Sam said, pretending to blush. I joined in on the others' laughter.

"Dad," James turned to his father, "I'm invited to Jenny's for dinner tomorrow." Michael nodded. "I hope you'll enjoy yourself." Blake and Freddie were immersed in an enthusiastic conversation, one which I didn't want to intrude on, so I tuned out. Sam was on his phone. "Sam." Michael called out sternly. "Yes, father?" Sam replied innocently. "No phones at the table. We've talked about this." Michael said. "I'm sorry, dad. I got a text." Sam pouted.

It seemed Michael had more than four rules. No locked doors, no phones at the table, no interrupting him in his office. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want alcohol and drugs. Not that I drink alcohol or do drugs, because I've never even tried. But I do smoke an occasional cigarette. It's not an addiction, or anything. I just get stressed out sometimes, and since I can't really express my true feelings to anyone, the only way I can relax is if I smoke. And I only do it maybe once or twice a week. I had a feeling that Michael wouldn't like that, though.

"Is everything okay, Danny?" James's voice brought my attention back to the dining table. I nodded and looked back down at my half-eaten sandwich. I stalled for a bit, pretending to eat. Then I excused myself to my bedroom.

I nearly forgot about the massive scar, because I almost flinched as I laid down on the bed. I wanted to fall asleep so badly, even though it was barely 7:00 p.m.. I was too lazy to get up and wash my face. I would've fallen promptly asleep if my pain didn't keep me awake. I just laid there, eyelids half-shut, feeling sore and tired.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I got up quickly. My heartbeat started racing. "C-come in." I called, my voice shaking with nerves. I was sure something horrible was going to be done to me.

Michael walked in. He saw my tense body sitting on the bed, then came closer. I flinched as he sat himself on the corner of my bed. "Are you okay?" He asked, frowning. I nodded frantically.

"Okay." He replied softly, not believing me. "Well, I just wanted to check up on you. I know you've had a long day, and this is all new to you." Michael said, making eye contact. He continued, "and I also wanted to let you know that your brothers, as well as I, are very excited to have you here. We missed you, these past 10 years." Michael said, his eyes filled with pain and sadness. "You're safe here with us, Danny. Not one of us will do anything to hurt you. Physically or verbally." Michael said seriously.

That damned Kim. I knew, however, that I couldn't trust them. Not yet, anyway. They could easily be lying, just to earn my trust. I nodded at Michael, smiling. "I appreciate it. Thank you for everything you've done for me." I said, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

"You can always talk to me, Danny. No matter what. I'm sure the others feel the same." Michael sighed, then got up. "I'll leave you to your business. My room's at the end of the hall, if you ever need anything." He smiled, and left, closing the door behind him.

I shivered, feeling cold. I zipped up my hoodie. I grabbed the new phone and decided to add Kim's contact, as well as Axel's into my new phone. My eyes scanned the short list of names on my ancient phone, and glanced a name that made me tense up. Nick. I shook my thoughts away, and turned my attention back to the other names after deleting his number from my phone. I downloaded a few apps, and rearranged them on the home screen. I was learning a lot about modern technology. About time.

I guess I was too engrossed in customising my phone because I didn't notice the time pass. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and failed to stifle a yawn. It was 10 p.m., and I had been awake since 2 a.m.. I couldn't sleep, though. At least not the first night in a new place.

I needed coffee. Desperately. I made my way to the kitchen and saw that no one was there. I looked around for coffee grounds, or a coffee machine. Anything. But the kitchen was too big for me to navigate. I must've made too much noise because a figure emerged. The small woman was in her pyjamas and her eyes were still adjusting to the light. "Mr. Sam, are you baking again?" She asked. She squinted at me. "Ah, Mr. Danny." She said. "Sorry, did I wake you?" I asked guiltily. "No worries, sir." She smiled kindly. "I'm sorry, ma'am. And you can call me Danny."

"Okay, Danny," She smiled, "can I help you with something?" "Uh... yes, actually. I can't seem to find the coffee." I told her. She frowned at me. "Coffee? This late at night?" "Yeah?" I said, smiling innocently. She shook her head and muttered something about teenagers as she walked up to a cabinet. She was unable to reach, so I told her I could help. I opened the cabinet and found a large bag filled with coffee grounds. I grabbed it, my weak arm straining to place it gently on the counter.

"Would you like me to make it for you?" She asked. "That won't be necessary. Thank you so much, I'm sorry I've disrupted your rest. You should go back to sleep." I responded, feeling guilty that I woke her up. "Nonsense, Danny, sir." She grabbed the bag before I could argue. She shushed me when I protested, so I finally gave up. I chuckled and sat myself on the counter, watching her make me a cup of coffee.

"You know, Danny," she said, "you don't have to be strong all the time. I can see the sadness in your eyes, young man. You have had a rough childhood. It made you lose trust in people. But the Clarks are your family. You can trust them. I have worked for them for 13 years." I remained silent, not knowing how to respond to that. So she knew me as a kid?

"Danny, pushing your emotions down will only cause them to erupt one day. Take care of yourself, okay?" She finally turned back to look at me, sympathy in her eyes. I nodded, not trusting words to formulate.

The smell of coffee filled the room and the nice old lady poured me a cup. She handed it to me. "I meant everything I said, my boy. You might have forgotten what it felt like, but you are loved." She then exited the kitchen. I stood there stunned. I just got some advice from a wise, old, short person. I got Yoda'ed.