The connection (A danisnotonfire story)

The tweet

Anna's P.O.V-

/ Hey guys! So, I have been wanting to find like an Internet pen pal to get more in touch with my fans. So, tweet me a short summary of you, and your interests. Don't lie, just be you! I look forward to hearing from my llamaarmy and making more friends! /

My breathing began to quicken, I couldn't tell if it was excitement, or astonishment. Did my dream really tell me this? How could I know before I even thought to check Twitter? Never mind that though, I quickly went from surprise to excitement. I wanted to become his friend on the Internet so bad; but the chance was so slim, considering how many freaking 12 year olds I was up against.

No. I am not going to lose hope. I will try, and if I fail, well, I'll just go back to being a nobody.

I pulled out a pen and my idea notebook, the one I hid on my bookshelf that nobody knew about, and began to scribble. Mostly things about me, and about how much I love Dan and his videos. I realized that tweets are only so many characters long. That was the challenge.

About an hour later, I had it typed into my draft on Twitter. I tried my hardest to not say things that weren't true, just to get him to like me. So about halfway through my drafting, I realized it didn't matter whether he liked it or not. I am me, so if I lose for being myself, that's ok. 

But the second I pressed enter, all of my false self confidence came crashing down. I knew this was stupid. What was I thinking? I can't even get friends in real life; how am I supposed to make myself sound good on paper? I threw the laptop off my bed. I didn't even look at it for damage because I kinda do this a lot. It made a louder noise than usual today. Most people's parents would come in and see if I was alright, but not in my case.

I already knew my mom was buzzed off her ass on the couch, and my dad? Probably somewhere in Europe or India, helping some homeless children on the street. You know, instead of making sure his OWN children at home were ok. 

I think that's why my mother drinks. After they separated, she felt like she was never anything to the relationship. I can't say I disagree, but my mom was still an okay person. However, she paled in comparison to her husband (now ex husband). My dad seems like a real hero. He graduated early with honors, got his medical degree, and helped so many people.

He may be a hero, but he will never be my hero.

So I crawled into the bathtub and began to violently sob. For a while I couldn't figure out why, but I felt the safest place to cry was my bathtub. Curtains drawn, lights out. My little sister found me like this a couple of times, but I couldn't really explain to her and just yelled at her to get out of my room.

I think the bathtub made me feel safe. It started the night everything went wrong.

I was only seven and my sister was 3. My dad and mom had gotten into a huge fight. I was sitting in my room, and I heard a yell and something broke. I slowly crept towards the living room. I couldn't really believe what I was seeing. My dad had my mom backed against the sofa table and my grandmothers vase was on the floor behind my mom, shattered into pieces. There was blood on her legs where some of the glass pieces had fallen. "YOU FAT COW! YOU ALWAYS SCREW EVERYTHING UP! WHY DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING FOR THIS SO CALLED FAMILY?" he yelled. I fought back tears until it happened. *CRACK* I looked up and wiped my eyes. My mom was holding the fresh red mark on her face. I saw her tears as my father grabbed her arm and stared at her. I let out a loud whimper, breaking the deathly silence. My father looked over at me, his eyes like another persons that I could not recognise. "What the hell do you think you're doing out here?" he yelled as if I was in the wrong. I ran over to my mother and held her leg as she slumped out of my fathers grasp onto the floor. She was bleeding bad. "You all are low life scum! How did I end up in this dump?" he looked over at my mother "I never want to see you piece of crap AGAIN". He stomped off and slammed the front door, never looking back.

I helped my mom up and she waddled to her room with the towel I brought her pressed on her leg. I began to hurry back to my room when I stopped to find my sister at the end of the hallway. "Mommy ok now?" she asked, her voice so innocent. The innocence I hadn't had for so long. I wiped the single tear off of her face and carried her to her room. "Mommy is okay now, go watch cartoons." I set her in her bed, and gave her her blanket. But as I walked out of the room, she knew it wasn't ok. It never was.

And that's when, I drew a bath. I sat in the bath and scrubbed all of my mothers blood and tears off my hands. I tried to scrub the memories off of my skin until the rubbing made a blister. And that's when it happened. I let go. I sobbed and cried for hours, till the bath water ran cold. But it felt like my new safe haven, a place I never wanted to leave.

He now is on magazine covers and news reports, and all of the media gush over his work with the poor. I burned every magazine with his face mocking me on the cover.

If we were so poor and awful, why couldn't he have helped us?

-----------------------

Hey my cake poppahs! So, i'm sorry this chapter was such a filler, but I really wanted a good back story, and make the whole "break downs" idea more thought out. So I really hope you liked all the drama, and I promice we will be getting back to the Dan story again, I just love a good dramatic back story.

Please comment and vote friends!

"My pen is the barrel of the gun, remind me what side you should be on."

-FirePhoenix