Heart on My Sleeve

Okay...I've debated enough about whether or not I should post this.  The following is what will become the first chapter in my book (haven't determined yet whether it will become a short story or a novel...I'm not that far in), and I really want to know what people think.

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The moment the coast was clear, Danville turned to me and said, “Don’t worry about them. They’ll never understand me, but you do, and that’s why I love you.” My friend and her big sister have just left my house to walk a block home for dinner. My name is Sanyo, and I am fourteen years old.


MaryBeth and Molly, my friends who just left, well, they’re mean. And small-minded. They just don’t get it. Sure, they’re great with their long, curly, brown hair, dark brown eyes, and gangly little-girl limbs. They can run fast, and they have a Slip-N-Slide, not to mention their little brother, who is a barrel of laughs. Little Raymond can’t make the “Y” sound yet, which can be a lot of fun. At least twice a day, I ask him what color that old Slip-N-Slide is, and he always answers, “Lellow,” without fail. We’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of that one.

But Danville, he has been with me forever. He’s older than me, actually. Momma said that Gran made him for Bunky, my big brother, but I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t mine. Ever since I was an itty-bitty thing, Danville has been my Friend. Everyone says I stole him from Bunky, but they’re wrong. Danville chose me.

I know, I know. You’re thinking, “Wait a minute. Danville isn’t real?” and you’re criticizing me in your head right now. Don’t deny it. I’ve been through this enough; I can tell. Before you write me off, tell me this: wasn’t there ever anything in your life that you were absolutely sure of beyond the shadow of a doubt, but someone else made your faith falter…and then it was gone?

Danville is just as “real” as Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Mother Nature or Father Time. All of these characters exist, as real as you and me, in the imaginations of those who believe – I mean truly believe – in them. If you think about it really hard, I bet you can even come up with another being who would fit into this category, but I’m not gonna go there. You can figure it out on your own. No, I’m not comparing Danville to any of these people or whatever you want to call them; I’m simply using them to help you see that there’s a possibility I’m not absolutely bat-poop crazy.

If you’re still reading this, congratulations. You’re not as small-minded as many of the kids I’ve come across in my short life. You may even be ready for my secret, but I’m not totally sure yet. After being shot down so many times, I’m a little cautious with this information. Well, what the hey? If you don’t like it, then you can just stop reading, and it’s no skin off my nose.

Danville is not just an idea, or a figment of my imagination. He’s not invisible; anyone can see him, and you don’t even have to try. He’s a stuffed dachshund, crocheted by my Gran. He’s red with the sweetest droopy ears and blue eyes, and he’s wearing – don’t you dare laugh – a black tuxedo with tails. Nothing special, right? Oh, wait…I forgot to mention he can talk.

No, really. It freaked me out in the beginning, too. I was confused about why this little stuffed dog was talking to me when all the other plush animals sat stock-still with that deer-in-the-headlights look they’re so well known for. There’s something different about Danville: something special.

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The real-life Danville, who remains with me to this very day

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Well?  Is it worth the time and effort?  I sure hope so, because I've got most of the story worked out in my head. 
 
People have been telling me for years that I should be a writer, but I never know who's serious and who's just being nice.  I've started numerous projects, all of which have fizzled out, over the past few years...but I think this just might be the one.
 
Please, be honest...but remember what Thumper's daddy said.