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"Ello birdy! I'm back with the wime cwrakers. Birdy? Where are you? Hmm... He probably went ahead to go and gets the wemonade."
Donnie Fink is a young lad who's around 7 years old. He has the dirtiest face anyone has ever layed eyes on and the messiest hair ever. If someone tried to run a comb through his head, you'd either lost your comb in his rat's nest or pull all of his hair out.
But for some reason, kids Donnie's age just turn their heads when they walk past him while he's playing. They find him... How should I put it? Too weird. So Donnie has no mates, no pals, no one, just himself. But Donnie did always play with someone though. And it is with his true best friend, his imagination. And that's all Donnie needs.



Thanks for reading! This is my first story. So if there is anything you feel like I need to improve on, just leave me a comment. And please no hating!