Dam Danyal

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" I'm sorry, but I can't," I tell them, my mind made up, " I'll forever be grateful for what you've done for me, but it's time for me to go."

" Go, what do you mean go?!" Maddie says, " I have raised you for the last six, almost seven years. You can't just pick up and leave, Daniel. You don't even know this man."

I laugh, my voice void of emotion, " It's not like I knew you all either."

Maddie crosses her arms, "that's different, and you know it. You were just a boy. You had nowhere to go. You have a home here. Why leave? After all this time. You have school and friends. You have us, family. Why would you leave us all behind?" Her voice gets thick as her eyes start to tear, " you're my baby boy. You can't just go."

" Family,"  I scoff, " family at least see each other once a week. When was the last time we had a meal together? We spent time with each other? When's the last time you took notice of me, or Jazz for that matter? The only time we see you is when you want something from us. Either for cleaning the lab," at that our audience blanches, " or testing one of your inventions. When was the last time you took an interest in what we wanted? Because I don't remember."

" Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, You have no say in this,"  she turns to me with a bright, convoluted smile on her face, as if enjoying Maddie's outburst," Danyal, dear, go collect your things, honey. I'll be waiting by the door."

I make my way towards the stairs, but Jack slides in front, " you can't just take Dann-o like this! We are his parents."

" You're Fosters," Marie reminds him, "You have no say in this matter. Danyal–"

"  And why," he says, pointing at her, " do you keep saying his name like that?"

I give him a confused glance, " because that's how you say my name?"

" Dann-o, son–"

"Do you honestly not know how to pronounce my name?"

He gives me a put-out look, " you've never said anything about  how we've said it before."

"Yes, I have. That's why you started calling me Danny in the first place. You said it was easier to say." I look towards Maddie, " is that why on all of my documentation you have Daniel on it instead of, Danyal? I thought it was a court error. Do you honestly not remember my name?"

" What difference does it make?" asks Jazz, " It's not like they're that different."

I glare at her, " how would you feel if everyone called you Yasmine instead of Jasmine?"

"That's not even the same name! Yours is just a different version of Daniel!"

"I was named Danyal for a reason; it matters how you pronounce it. It's like me validating calling you Yasmine because there's only a letter difference. I have the right to be called by my own name. Properly."

"Really," she says cockily, " what is so important about how you say your name."

"It's because," I say, letting my natural accent flow, " It's a combination of my parents' cultures. Father is Jewish, so I was named Danyal for him. Mother is Arabic."

It was as if my voice stupefied the Fentons. It had been so long since I had last spoken naturally around them. When I started staying with them, my accent was thick, and they had trouble understanding me. With my reception at school, it didn't take me long to start incorporating an American accent into my day-to-day life. Cutting off another piece of myself to make them happy. Due to lack of use, my accent is less thick, but it's noticeably different from the standard midwestern accent they are used to. Jack breaks the silence, " I thought  it was a speech impediment."

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