A Change in Derrick

Imagine a character whose appearance has recently changed, perhaps dramatically. Maybe it was a car accident or plastic surgery, maybe just a diet, a haircut, or some new contact lenses. But remember, even a subtly change may seem huge to your character.

First write a description of your character before the change. the describe the new appearance.

Derrick was always considered a strange fellow, but he was a good kid. Strange but a good kid. He was always one of those model children that ladies whisper amongst each other “That one… his momma raised him right.” He would open doors for everyone, even the smallest lap dog, and would stand silent and smiling till everyone passed though. He would always say please and thank you, bless you, you’re welcome. Never out of forced programming but of thoughtful habituallity. He was always wearing a nice pressed collared shirt, tucked into his nice slacks, with of course a belt. A sweater would always be tied around his shoulders regardless of the weather. His hair would be slicked back without a single strand out of place. In his hand he would always be tossing a small baseball, even while opening doors. He wouldn’t ever let anyone touch this baseball. Asking about it only led to more trouble.

One afternoon, Stella and Gertrude were sitting at a café, they were just finishing their tea time and were about to get up to walk out. Usually Derrick comes in at this time and opens the door for them, and remarks on how beautiful they get everyday. Both ladies return with what a wonderful boy he is and thank him for opening the door. Today was different. As Stella and Gertrude were collecting their things, the door to the café slams open. The entire restaurant stops and looks to the door. It is Derrick. But he looks different. His hair is a black mess on top of his head, oily and resembling a bird’s nest. His clothes are different too, he is wearing ripped jeans with holes on both knees, a white T-shirt with the words “Do the Helen Keller” scrawled across the chest, big shoes with the tongue over the bottom of his jeans. He has baseball gloves, a light jacket and sunglasses which do nothing to hide the insidious glare of his eyes.

“Good afternoon Derrick” the ladies say, unfazed by his appearance. He only looks at them and then sits down at a nearby table, kicking his feet up on a chair. The ladies look to each other, shrug and walk out the door. “I wonder what’s become of him.” “I don’t know. I was going to return this to him I had it polished and boxed since his birthday is coming up. Now I’m not sure what do to.”

Gertrude takes out a small box holding Derrick’s baseball, with a ribbon wrapped around it that says “Happy Birthday.”