H I S T O R Y
Please don't read into this wrong. I'm not looking for your pity. The saying "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is something I've learned to live by. So any sympathy will ultimately piss me off. I don't need it. I made do with what hand I was dealt and, because of it, I came out stronger than I ever expected.
I honestly have no idea who my parents are. I'm not sure why they don't exist. I've paid to have tests run but everything always comes back redacted. I'm not sure if they're in some witness protection program. Or if they're dead; and if they are if their deaths need to be kept hidden from the public eye. I... I 'm honestly not sure. There's just nothing there. No lineage, no relatives, no nothing. It's just me.
I'm told I was dropped off at the orphanage around nine months old. A younger mother who just had a child of her own took care of me for a while. I stayed with her until she decided I didn't need her anymore. It took a while for an orphanage to actually accept me as I was less than a year old. Eventually one did and I stayed there for about three years. When they realized that no one wanted to take me in, they thought that transferring me might help.
I was way ahead of my fellow orphans. I was talking, walking, learning faster than any of them. The new orphanage liked to call me the "child genius," hoping that would attract an adopter. However, it didn't work. One look at me and they recoiled like a snake. I was only 4 years old and I already had a gut feeling that no one would want me.
So what did I do? What any other kid would do.
I cut my hair and tried to gouge out my eyes. It didn't work and I was immediately taken to a psychologist to talk about my feelings. I was 4 so I really didn't understand it but I was thankful to have a constant in my life. At one point, I even thought the psychologist would adopt me but, per the rules, he wasn't allowed to. Still, it didn't stop him for arranging meetings with me and asking me how I was doing.
I was about 8 when the orphanage decided it was time I move on. I wasn't getting any adopters and they were "wasting money" on the psychologist (I eventually discovered that he wasn't charging them a damn thing; he just genuinely cared about me).
Or at least that's what I thought....
When I transferred, the psychologist moved. I was ecstatic. Someone actually cared enough to follow me.
But... I didn't see the writing on the walls. The orphanage didn't move me because I wasn't being adopted. The doctor...
I remember him holding my throat. Telling me that "a good little boy would do as told." I remember how he'd always look at me as if I were his next meal. I started to question my life. Was seeing this man worth it. He was the only one to pay any attention to me but the bruises, the awkward infatuation... it was taking its told.
A social worker eventually caught on to what was happening and I was saved. I was lucky I never had to endure the next levels of abuse but I'd say it did its toll on me. I hated people. I hated everyone. I didn't dare let anyone get close to me again.
Between orphanage directors, new psychologists, and social workers, no one could break through to me. I was damaged and I didn't want to be fixed. I knew I was useless. I was 8 years old and not a damn person wanted me. And it was all because of how I looked. How I laughed. How I acted.
"He's so mature for his age"
"He's unbelievably talented. There's nothing he can't do"
"The way he looks at the other kids... I fear for their safety. He sees them as nothing but pawns. He's the master of his own game and he's playing them as fools"
"If he doesn't wind up dead, he'll end up being a top wanted criminal. He's too conniving for his own good. Just look at how he calculates everything"
Not everything was nice. But I didn't care. If they were going to isolate me and treat me like a criminal, I'd adapt to that mindset and let the darkness creep into my soul.
Around the age of 10, I was brought to another orphanage. This one was for the "mentally unstable." Only, they couldn't find anything technically wrong with me. Each test, I passed. Every tricky phrase, I knew how to answer it properly. I didn't have any signs of mental issues or ill-behavior. So I was released. This time I was shipped across the country. They had hoped that some rich family that wouldn't have any luck with having kids would adopt me. I was surrounded by rich, snotty orphans whose parents died to drugs, drinking, or jealousy.
It was... interesting. I learned that although I didn't fit in, I didn't not fit in. There was something high and mighty about these kids that I liked. That they never looked back. That they never took pity. I decided I wanted to embrace that. If they could be cool and alone, so could I.
As expected, no one adopted me so I was moved back across the country. I stayed at the orphanage until I turned 16. They paid for my elite schooling, which was surprising. But, I suppose, they didn't have a choice. Anything lesser would have bored me and I would have dropped out of classes. So they had to give me something that was a challenge.
Ha, challenge. As if. I hardly studied to get my grades. After they paid for the first year, the rest of my tuition was free. I just had to float above an 85 and I'd be covered. It was easy. Too easy. So I told myself I'd say about a 95.
Have yet to have an issue with that.
So yeah, that's been my life. Passed around from orphanage to orphanage. Taken advantage of by a perverted old man. Learned how to live life the tough way and grew strong. Erased any real need for friends or feelings....
Sigh. Though it would be nice. You know, not to be alone?
It's why I took up a job at the casino. Er, two jobs. The 4 to 6 AM job is sketchy af but it pays handsomely. The other job is as needed. The casino has an issue with cheats. So they call me in. I'm really good at counting cards, loading dice, and hitting a bull's eye in darts. And I'm not caught or called out. They just bring me in whenever they need me to whoop someone's ass. Technically what I do is illegal, since I'm underage but they've worked out a deal with the local law enforcement. I get paid a small cut and we all keep it quiet. I help lock up the losers. It's pretty neat. Plus I like the idea of having people rely on me to get tricky jobs done. It's... fulfilling.
Refreshing Feed...
