A Walk In My Shoes

ST: Okay, okay. I had this really awesome idea for a fic, so I actually got up at 4:55 am just to write it down. It's my first fanfic ever, but I am writing a novel, so yea.

Newayz, just to let you know, there is swearing and deep issues. It might get a bit dark at times.

The plot is basically about T.K. and Davis living each other's lives. Literally. And how their point of view on the world changes. It's kinda like, don't think you're the only one with problems, or don't think you're alone, that you can trust people.

There is a bit of romance, but I can't quite say who will be with whom at the end. But the romance is more of an irrelevant thing, so it won't be major.

The characters are a bit OOC, other than that I think they are mostly related to their original personalities.

Disclaimer: If I owned any rights to anything Digimon, do you think that I'd be wasting my time with petty fan fiction? I don't think so.

On with the story!

*************** Chapter 1: Enter Davis Motomiya-Me Myself And I ***************

Everyone thinks that my life is perfect. That I'm always happy and carefree. That I'm just another normal teen.

Normal. I hate that word. That's because I'm anything but normal. But no one knows the truth. Not that I've given anyone a chance to see from my eyes. I guess it's because I don't want anyone's pity.

So, like I said, everyone thinks my life is perfecto, a snap. Nothin' but laughs and giggles.

That's 'cause I've perfected the art of hiding and covering up.

What can I say? I hate when people try to pry into business other than their own. So, I've made everyone think that I'm fine and that there isn't anything to worry about.

But of course there is. But I'm not telling you a damn thing.

Anyways, you shouldn't bother me about my personal life, 'cause I'm Davis Motomiya, and there's nothing wrong with me. Ha ha ha!


Can I trust you?




Davis groggily threw his comforter off his legs and groaned.

"C'mon Davis! It's already 6:54!"

"Damn you Jun," Davis muttered to himself as he sat up.

"Are you up yet?" his sister yelled through the door.

He slurred back, "Yea," as he slid out of bed and slugged toward his bathroom extension.

'Thank God I don't have to share a bathroom with my nut sister,' Davis thought to himself as he turned the shower knob towards the blue "C" and slipped out of his boxers.

As soon as the temperature suited him, he stepped in.

Sighing as the cool water splashed over him, he hastily scrubbed soap over himself and sifter shampoo through his hair. He quickly rinsed off and turned the knob to the middle, causing the nozzle to stop its flow of water.

He stepped out onto the tiled floor of the bathroom and grabbed for a nearby towel hanging on the rack behind him. As he wrapped the blue cotton around his waist, he glanced into the mirror.

'God I look tired,' he told himself as he studied the purple bags under his eyes. He rubbed his eyes and glanced into the sink.

"Shit," he silently muttered as he noticed the dried blood stained into the side.

Davis hurriedly ran into his bedroom and yanked some clothes out of the drawer and quickly pulled them on.

'No wonder I'm so damn tired,' he inwardly told himself. 'I must've cut to deep and just forgot to clean up.'

After getting fully clothed, he went back into the bathroom and bent down to open the cupboard below the sink. Moving aside a few towels, he grabbed a well-hidden bottle of bleach.

Standing back up, he opened the child safety cap and poured a small amount onto the crusted blood and watched as it washed down the drain. Coughing from the toxic fumes, he sealed the cap back on and hid the bottle in the back of the cupboard, behind spare towels and toilet paper rolls.

He slammed the cabinet shut with his shins and glanced back into the mirror. As he ruffled his hair so it stuck up just right he noticed his sore wrist.

Small cuts and a few long ones ran along the underside of his left wrist, one particularly bright pink one oozing a bit of clear liquid.

Davis grabbed a bottle of isopropyl rubbing alcohol and dribbled a bit onto the pink area on his wrist. He grimaced as the chemical began to clear away any bacteria. After he put the bottle away, he picked up a pair of black wrist sweatbands and shoved them over his hands. They fit perfectly.

Finally, he reached for the goggles that hung on the hand towel rack to his left. Quickly he snapped them onto his head and sprinted out into his bedroom.

He glanced at the clock on his side table drawer and groaned,"7:20 already?"

He gathered his scattered unfinished homework off the floor and crammed it all into his blue backpack. He quietly walked to the door and slowly opened it a little and poked his head out.

Glancing down the hallway and down to the living room he noticed that no one else was in the apartment. Sighing, he pushed the door open and walked out into the hallway while slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Kicking over empty aluminum beer cans, Davis slowly made his way through the living room and into the entrance hallway. He slipped into his shoes and opened the door.

He walked out and slammed the door shut. Then, he began to sprint down the hallway, obviously in a hurry.


Okay, okay. You may be thinking, 'what's up with the wrist thing?'

Well, honestly, I never thought I'd ever do anything like that to myself either.

I dunno, I guess I really didn't care anymore. Not about living, oh no. Suicide is the last thing on my mind. My life is just so tiring that sometimes I fell, like, cold or something. The cutting makes me reawaken, I guess. I can't really explain.

I've been doing it for about 5 months now. First it was every once in a while, like when I was desperate for release. Then every two to three weeks, like a schedule. Now it's down to once a week.

But I'm fine with it. And it's not like I'm careless or anything. I clean up after myself and always use alcohol to clean up the cut. The bleach clean all the evidence down the drain and the whole basketball fad wristbands cover up the rest of the story, a fool proof plan so no one finds out.

More secrets and keeping people out, I know. I'm a very private person. Is there anything wrong with that?

************ Okay, that's chapter one. What do you think?

I like my thoughts on Davis; the original was a dud. I like my characters to have a personality, some depth.

Please tell me what you like and don't like.