✖ Little Boy Blue ✖

Kire
Retired Staff

2,937 POSTS
Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 16, 2015 21:45:21 GMT -5

thinking about thonking

✖ Little Boy Blue ✖ Apr 26, 2014 19:57:07 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Kire on Apr 26, 2014 19:57:07 GMT -5

Name: Dexter AKA Blue AKA Little Boy Blue
Age: Sixteen
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 5
Appearance:

Personality:

druggie, bottom of the food chain, fetcher-and-toter

History:

father did drugs behind mother's back, caught father taking drugs, befriended older kids, got hooked on drugs at a young age, was kicked out of home, lived on the street, snapped up by drug dealer

Codeword: Odair
Other:

Last Edit: Jun 18, 2014 11:16:03 GMT -5 by Kire

On hills and waves on stormy days.

Kire
Retired Staff

2,937 POSTS
Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 16, 2015 21:45:21 GMT -5

thinking about thonking

✖ Little Boy Blue ✖ Apr 26, 2014 20:08:08 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Kire on Apr 26, 2014 20:08:08 GMT -5

[presto]

Poor, all my life I've always been poor
I keep askin' God what I'm for
And he tells me, "Gee, I'm not sure"
"Sweep that floor, kid!"

[/presto]

Oh! I started life as an orphan,

I used to have a last name, used to have a biological family and a real home. Part of me wonders if miss it, but part of me knows it will never be enough. The pills in my hand bring an unwanted smile to my face, the knowledge that I will be in joy's grasp in a moment forever staining me with false cheer. As the darkness of the world seems to press on my back in an effort to crush me I fight back with tablets of chemical powders that ease my burden so I might sit straight. I dream of a throne high above everything, but I will never escape its shadow long enough to climb onto it. I am but Little Boy Blue, bottom feeder of the underdogs and at the beck and call of my seniors. Seems everyone is my senior.

Mom was never the most observant person, perhaps it was why she never realized that dad was a casual drug user. She treated me well though, taught me how to read and write well before other children knew and allowing me to learn more, faster that most of my peers. I skipped grade one because of that, leaving me with children a year older than me from almost the very beginning. Setting me up for disaster. I skipped another grade a couple years later, grade four was not necessary for me so I was now the same age as the grade threes while being around grade fives. It was nothing but fuel for my ego until highschool.

I was teased for my age, looked down on and talked about in nasty whispers while I tried to do as I had always done. The couple of friends I had made at my previous school abandoned me when they saw I was the target of the bullies. I was left to my own defence, which I lacked the developed body for. Sometimes it was verbal attacks, sometimes physical, and every time it was painful. I had the nickname "Little Boy" pinned to my chest, and no matter how hard I tugged at the pin it would never come off. Even so, it came to the point where I would rather be beaten than called nasty names. I was always miserable at school, and at home things had suddenly become worse.

I caught my father doing drugs. He was in the bathroom, but hadn't thought to lock the door. Unknowing, I had opened it in an attempt to clean some of the scrapes and the split lip I had just received. He screamed at me to get out, and I will never forget the horrible gleeful look in his eyes. I know why it was there now. My mother figured it out, or at least she didn't show that she did. She wasn't exactly an innocent woman either, but if she did anything illegal then she was good at covering her tracks. Still, rumours got out somehow.

Except this time the rumours didn't get me another punch in the face or volatile word thrown in my face. Instead, it got me into a group of older kids. They were all at least seventeen, meanwhile I was only thirteen. When they took me in, they treated me like an equal - something I had never truly experienced before - and let me join in everything they were doing. Including drugs.

They started me on smoking, but the first few times I coughed horribly and refused it for a bit after that so they got me trying booze instead. I learned how to drink it at the right pace to keep from spluttering, and slowly my ability to hold my liquor increased. They got me drunk and handed me a cigarette. This time, I smoked the whole thing by myself. That was as far as it went for a while, but eventually they stepped up the game again.

It was at a party for the end of the school year, I was already drunk as were they and we had all finished one or two sticks. Then, the ring leader of the group reached into his jacket and pulled out a plastic baggy of tablets. "Little Boy," even these guys called me by my nickname - but it didn't hurt as much I found, after all they all had nicknames like that, "how about you take the first one." Drunk and soothed by the cigarette, I accepted. I reached into the baggy and snagged one of the tablets.

Everything is a bit of a blur after that, but I remember that it was all wonderful and exciting. Apparently they decided that, due to my first drug use, they would alter my nickname a little. Now they called me "Little Boy Blue" or even just "Blue", something that had a much better feel to it. Not to mention, at school I was no longer picked on as much - it still happened but generally if I corrected the bully on my nickname they would get this bit of a scared look in their eyes. I had to say it made my life easier.

Due to my affiliation with that group, I began to come to school drunk, or high, or sometimes both. It was a wonder I didn't get caught, but then again I doubt that most of my teachers even cared about the students. What was neat about it though, was that I seemed to do better in some classes when I was high and better in some when I was sober. I soon learned which was which and manipulated my substance use to fit that. Even still, no one noticed.

It continued like that until I had finally had enough of school, even my parents had no idea of my habits before I suddenly decided I was going to drop out and come home. Of course, I forgot I was was high at the time and was surprised to find my mother home. She screamed at me for hours, or it felt like hours. I couldn't sit still for very long, but every time I went to get up she would claw at my arm and hold me down. It didn't matter though, I didn't listen anyway. She kicked me out of the house, throwing my own things at me to drive me out. I laughed the entire time, attempting to catch things and being semi-successful - phys ed was not one of the classes I did better in when I was high.

I have no idea what my dad thought of my drug use, I knew he did drugs himself but mom never noticed. I didn't really care, and I was already gone by the time he came home. Carrying my stuff, I went to go and find a spot to camp out. Though I had never seen a forest, I had always thought the idea of sleeping without a roof over my head might be fun and now my mother had offered me the opportunity to do it. I found a nice little side alley and tossed my things down. Using some clothes as I pillow I lay on my back and stared upwards. It was bright still, being sometime in the afternoon, but I imagined it was night - something easier to do when you're high. I giggled to myself the entire time, continuing to watch the light of the sun grow dimmer and dimmer until it was nearly night.

For about a month I would spend my time wandering in search of food or clean water to drink, always returning to my little spot. By the end of it, I had built a comfortable nest. Over the course of that time I had managed to get in touch with my old friends and get myself a little supply of drugs - on loan, or at least I now owed them money - and hid them in my tangle of clothes. One night I had just gotten high when a tall shadow loomed over me, of course he probably looked a lot taller than he was because I was sitting and he was standing. He could tell I was high, though I had never done anything to try and hide it. "You look really young to be on the street, boy." I just nodded, the drugs making me compliant and curious. "How about you come with me, and we can get you somewhere more comfortable." Somewhere in my brain I wondered if he was an undercover peacekeeper, but I thought that I would naturally feel more of an aversion if he was. So I went with him.

I soon learned that he was referred to as "The Man" and that no one knew his real name. He was also very rich and very powerful, and he had one hell of a supply of drugs. Despite all that, he was really nice. He employed me, let me earn off my money to pay back to my friends, and then would let me choose my payment in drugs. I worked diligently, running packages to customers and picking up shipments. He trusted me, and in return I worked hard for him. It was nice to see I wasn't the only young person here, but I was still the youngest. Even so, most people treated me alright - but people made fun of me still and tried to twist my nickname against me. The Man stepped in, but it only caused people to refer to me as his pet. I couldn't win with these people, and I knew I would someday have to prove myself better than them.

It always came down to doing some other stupid thing, I knew that, and I just wondered when the next stupid dare would come. I would be ready for it, I had to be if I wanted to get them all off of my back. "Little Boy Blue" would just have to show them how poorly "little" fit him after all.

A child of the street, down here on Skid Row!

[presto]

He took me in, gave me shelter
A bed, crust of bread and a job
He treats me like dirt, calls me a slob,
Which I am...
So I live

[/presto]

Last Edit: Jun 18, 2014 11:12:53 GMT -5 by Kire

On hills and waves on stormy days.

Kire Retired Staff 2,937 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Jul 16, 2015 21:45:21 GMT -5 thinking about thonking	✖ Little Boy Blue ✖ Jun 18, 2014 11:13:39 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Kire on Jun 18, 2014 11:13:39 GMT -5 Little Boy Blue is finished ^^
	On hills and waves on stormy days.

ᴥ Head RP Tutor 4,548 POSTS Pronouns: he/him last seen Apr 26, 2024 14:50:22 GMT -5 oof	✖ Little Boy Blue ✖ Jun 18, 2014 11:47:20 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ᴥ on Jun 18, 2014 11:47:20 GMT -5
	the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n