Remembering The DG - Fanfic - Chapter 1

"Crash, come on, don't leave ... upset ... like this."


I lug my luggage down the flight of stairs, ignoring their reasoning, their pleas to cheer me up.


"We aren't kicking you out, Crash, we love you very much. It's just that we can't have you around at the moment. And anyway, you'll be okay in that new flat we rented you, won't you? After all, you're 19 now."


I grab my keys.


"You've got university in the Spring, so you'd be gone anyway, son. It won't be that long. And you can visit us ANY time you like. We'll always be here ... well, nearly always."


I open the door.


"Please say something, Crash. We feel so guilty, but our reasons are that ... well ..."
I'm gone.


I'm in the cab when the angry yelling starts. The cab driver's looking more and more alarmed as I open my bags and hurl things around the car.


BAM! My Blink 182 alarm clock smashes against the window.


WHAM! My Converses hit the back of the driver's seat.


He stops and tells me to get out when a pair of my underpants land on his face.


Normally I think I'd be laughing. But what cheer is there to be found in my current situation? My foster parents have kicked me out, I don't know where my new flat is, it's now pouring down with rain ...


I'm sat on my luggage as the water runs down my face. Suddenly, sodden chip papers scrunched up in balls roll towards me. I look down at them, give them an angry kick, and look up again.
It's two boys, covering themselves with hoodies, looking confused at me.
"Hey, man! What you doing out here in the rain?" The slightly shorter one, with brown hair, asks.
"Yeah, it's really cold." Nods the other, a blond boy of about 15.


"Well, my parents ..." I say quietly. My anger's just drained out of me, with the rain and everything.


"He's been dumped, Frank." The brown haired boy finishes my question, looking at his friend. "Just like the rest of us."


The other boy - presumably named Frank - nods understandingly. "Sorry."


"It's okay. It's not like it's your fault. And ... your friend's right. I guess I have been dumped. Again." I shake my head slowly, sadly.
"Here, come with us. My name's Liam, and he's Frank. We live in a place where people like you, me, and Frank live - it's basically a place for people who have ... been dumped."


So I follow the two boys, my suitcase half open and not caring, in the torriential rain. It's only a five minute trudge to what can only be described as a big house.
There's a big sign in front of the gravel, but it's covered in mud. I spot a small bright haired boy with a giraffe in one of the large windows. As a Caribbean woman is cleaning mud from his hands, I'd guess that he had something to do with the sign being filthy.
He sees me, too, as I speedwalk behind Liam and Frank - and a small smile appears on his little face. And then I see a flash of a toy animal: a giraffe, I think.
I hurry in, and I'm relieved to feel the warm air of the house. I shake off my jacket on the mat, while Liam calls something to someone in the other room.
"Gina! Mike! We're home! We've brought a guy along: he's like, Tracy's age, and he's been shoved out too."
I smile suddenly, a fond, remembering smile. "I once knew a girl called Tracy. One of my best friends, she was."
Frank looks at me. "You did? It might be the same one." "I doubt it, Frank." I halfsmile.
"Why? What's your name?" "Uh, well, it's -"


Suddenly, a girl comes down the stairs. She's holding washing. As she turns, she looks up and freezes.
Dirty clothes spill all over the floor.


"CRASH?!"