Leopold Deighan : D8 : FIN

Let's get one thing straight here- I fucking hate my name.

Leopold. Who's dumbass idea was it to name me Leopold? Well, it was my mother's idea. Guess she wasn't happy with whatever factory life she had, so she had to give me some pretentious snooty name. Ohh, Leopold, would you fancy some hot tea with your biscuits? That's sort of what my name implies, and I hate it. My mom was never really in her right mind, though.

My mom didn't give me one good thing. Not one. My name? Disgusting. My face? Even more disgusting. Just look at me! Nobody notices anything besides my big nose. Thanks, mom, I really appreciate these genes. Just like hers, my nose takes up half my face and hooks right down. I'm sure all the boys just love a nose like this. My eyes, too, are a little less than pleasing. Do they even have any color? They're just. Black.

My hair, also black, is wildly curly. I'm pretty sure it has a mind of it's own. No matter how much I brush it, it's a disaster in just a few minutes. It's always falling into my eyes, which is such a bother. One more nuisance I've got to thank my mom for. My bad looks aren't all her fault though. From my dad, I've got some pretty rough stubble that traces itself down my jaw and around my mouth. It never grows out much past the stubble stage, but it's still a bother. The one thing I actually get to pick is my wardrobe. I keep it simple, cause not much can really compensate for this face. Soft jackets and the like.

I guess you could say I blame everyone else for my problems. I wouldn't call you wrong, honestly. But that's only because that everybody else is the cause of my problems! I never do a thing wrong, and people just jump on me. For no good reason, either! I can't help but feel a little victimized sometimes. People really need to stop doing me wrong.

I hate dealing with people. They're so frustrating! Everyone is always "me me me me me" all the god damn time. And boy, if you have some flaws, they won't let you forget it. If I had a coin for every time someone pointed out my nose, or my greasy hair, or my lack of height, I'd have a lot of coins. Sure, I'm guilty of pointing out other's flaws, but I'm a decent enough human to not tell them to their face. I'll just tell it to everyone behind their back. Saves them a lot of trouble.

People would never guess that I'm a hard worker, but I really am. Since I've got a lack of friends and family relationships, I throw myself into work. Got myself a nice factory job, sewing up formal wear. More waistcoats and poofy skirts have passed through my hands than I can count. Sometimes it feels nice, making something for others. As intolerable as people are, at least I can make them look nice.

I take back what I said, about my mom never giving me anything good. She gave me my life, so I guess that's one good thing. Everything after that has been a bit of a downward spiral. She already had a kid, my older sister, who was 12. So considerably older than me. My mom was like, 40 when she had me, and my father had already long ditched her. He was out before she even knew she was pregnant.

I grew up with a deep resentment for my father. I refused to talk to most people besides my sister, because I was so afraid they'd just up and leave like my father did. I know the way I acted bothered my mom, but who cared what she thought. She wasn't making my life any easier. From day one, she fussed and fussed over me, never giving me any space to breathe. As I got older, I made a point to stay as far away from her as often as I could.

She died. A few years ago, she got sick and died. I was 14. I didn't really care much. Of all the hardships she caused me, I figured it was just what she deserved. My sister let me live with her, and her husband. Ooooh boy, her husband. What a complete jackass. Always ordering her around and yelling when she wouldn't do what he said. That guy drove me fucking nuts. If my distaste for people was already low, he just worked it into the negative digits.

One day, he suddenly decided to start raising a hand to my sister whenever he was mad. I think I was probably 16 when this started happening. My sister would shove me out of the room, wouldn't let me do a thing to stop it. Well, if there's one thing I hate, it's not getting what I want. The last time he ever slapped her was the time I finally kicked his ass. I did, I really did. I beat his face black and blue, and watched him scamper away like a kicked puppy. Even I didn't know I had that in me.

My sister and I moved to a different house after that. She started factory work, as did I. Same factory, different departments. She preferred the thick wool sweaters to the over-the-top dresses that I worked on. My sister is the one person I can stand. She's never been overbearing, or cruel. She always wanted the best for me. And she told me I was handsome when nobody else did. Okay, that last sentence was a joke, but I really do appreciate her. I hope life is kind to her from now on. I'd never tell her, though. Don't even tell anyone I said that.

codeword: odair
faceclaim: adam chanler-berat