Aug 6, 2020
Daniel: Can I get a venti vanilla latte with uhh, seven espresso shots?
Tobi: Dear God, just do cocaine.
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Daniel: Can I get a venti vanilla latte with uhh, seven espresso shots?
Tobi: Dear God, just do cocaine.
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Danny M.
-Daniel Morris
-16 years old
-Autistic
-Lives with older brother
-Chews on dogtag as happy stim
-Hyper-fixation on the extra-terrestrial
-That’s a real baby alien
Daniel: I think I’m having a midlife crisis.
Maxwell: You’re 15.
Daniel: I could die at 30.
Maxwell: I want to change the world
Daniel: For the better?
Maxwell: *starts sweating*
Daniel: Answer me
Daniel: Ever spill a little bit of your coffee and realize the thread you are hanging on by is actually quite thin?
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“Wow.” Was all Maxwell could say. He looked at Daniel, who chose to stare at the street below instead. “Just, you of all people, wow, and here I thought you were the golden boy, Mr. Perfect.”
“Just stop, please,” Daniel said, shutting his eyes.
He turned away so his legs were no longer dangling over the ledge. Maxwell followed suit.
“Okay, in all seriousness, why are you telling me this? Aren’t we suppose to be archenemies or something?” Maxwell asked.
“That’s our parents.”
“And we’e our parents children. Then again, I’m not the one with doubts,” Maxwell said.
“Really, never? You’re father is a criminal mastermind,” Daniel said, finally looking at Maxwell.
“He’s just trying to keep the planet safe,” Maxwell explained.
“Earth is safe.”
“Is that why you don’t want to play ‘hero’ like your family? Earth is already safe.”
Daniel stood up. “I don’t know why I thought you’d understand.”
He started towards the door.
“I understand being scared of the future, the thought of not living up to the family legacy, not being enough, but, what I don’t understand is not doing something when you can. Danny, you have these amazing powers that I wish I could have and you come and tell me you have doubts about following in your family’s footsteps. That’s you don’t want to help people.”
“What do you care anyways?” Daniel snapped. “Shouldn’t you actually be happy? There’s one less of us to worry about.”
“It’s not like I want you guys out of the picture. My family might, but I don’t. You guys do a lot of good sometimes, but you have such a narrow view on what’s going on in the galaxy. There needs to be a change.” Maxwell walked over to Daniel as he spoke.
“Yeah, well, that change isn’t me.”
Daniel opened the door, but before he could leave, Maxwell’s hand was on his shoulder.
“Wait.” His voice was softer than before. “If you still need to talk, about anything really, I’ll be here for you. Maybe I’m not suppose to be, but I will.”
For the first time that night, Daniel smiled. “Thanks.”
Daniel Morris' record of dishonesty illustrates the type of important evidence about law enforcement misconduct that was long kept secret in California.