SLADE, DISTRICT NINE

I wnas born to a younger couple. They weren't married and they weren't out of school. They were young and stupid like everyone else. /Oblivious/ is a good word for them. You couldn't exactly say /clueless/, though, because they knew how to be safe, and what would happen if they weren't. I guess they were drunk when they conceived me. I was an accident child, and I hate my parents for it. All my life, I've been stuck thinking that I shouldn't be here, |I don't wanna be here.| When I was born on a January morning - which was as cold as I am now - I didn't know what was going on, and that's why I'd die to be born again, to start over fresh, to not get close to my parents like I did. Everyone makes mistakes in their lives, and my major one was actually trusting my parents. They ruined my life, and now I plan on wrecking theirs.

While growing up, I lived in a small house. It had two bedrooms (one for me and one for my parents), a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, a basement and an attic. Being an only child, it was never that bad. At least I didn't have to share my room with a brother. Our yard was sprinkled with dead grass and dirt patches, probably because no one ever tended to it. My backyard was empty. When I was younger, it seemed so much bigger. I could fight pirates and dragons and ninjas. Now the only person I'm fighting is myself. The only thing similar from back then is how I look. Dead eyes; even if the green is prominent against my fair skin, they lack interest, /they always did/. My hair is still that brown color that's just /dying/ to become blonde.

Most of my life was a waste, me working only to find out I missed the memo. When I was younger, I would neglect the offers the neighborhood kids gave me to play outside; I was much more determined to do well in school, get a good job, get money for my money. As I started getting older, and the kids realized my answer woud always be no, I started to mourn for the knock on my door or the kid coming up to me after school, but if I wanted to be someone one day - a Peacekeeper - I was going to have to study.

And I always did.

There came a time where my parents decided I had social problems, but the truth is, I'm just introverted. I like to keep to myself, and what others think of me is the least of my worries. When I finally left school, and went off to Peacekeeper-training, I was relieved. I knew all my studying would pay off, I would be the smartest one there, I would become a detective of some sort.

But then they said I wasn't qualified for the job. They said I wasn't very good at "instructing" and also I wasn't very "fit". I was skinny, but even I knew - and accepted the fact - that I couldn't run more than a mile straight or lift weights. I said "fuck that" and I decided I could do something better with my time, so I went home and found a job.

One of the kids I went to school with said he had a job for me. It was just dirty work, things other people didn't want to do. I agreed. My first order was to bring this package to "Charles Bathea" and to "make sure he gives me fifty-seven dollars". We met at some corner-store and everything went smooth. That was the first time I dealt drugs. I did that for a while, until he started to give me other instructions. "I need some money, go get some from the store." He handed me a gun and a ski-mask and I got the money.

I guess the Peacekeepers were right, I wasn't very good at instructing, I was very good at /getting/ instructed, though.

The other thing he made me do was kill someone, and I did.

After a while, I decided I should change my ways. I couldn't take such disgusting orders, and actually complete them.

I decided I should give the orders.

So the next time he gave me a gun to rob a bank or kill someone, I pointed it at his head. "Here. For now on, I tell you what to do. Tell everyone else that, too, or else a bullet is going through your head." From that moment on, I was King. I gave instructions. I make a fair amount of money.

On second thought, the Peacekeepers were wrong, I'm great at giving instructions.





[[ooc: graphic credit to Stare.]]