Well, there ain't much t' say about
me," Finn lied as he took a seat across from the stranger. He
smirked as the stranger urged him to tell the story. "Alright. If
you insist," he said with a dramatic sigh.
"I was born and raised in Ireland.
Me mother was an American, a journalist if I remember correctly.
Me father was an alcoholic, nothing special really. Me mum often
tried to fix him up when he came home bloody; She only got beaten
and tortured in the meantime. I watched in horror as me father
hit her over and over again. Finally, she couldn't take it any
longer. So, she stormed out of the apartment and never came back,
leaving me alone with me abusive dad. He came home every night,
intoxicated as usual. One night, he came home and ripped me to me
feet by my hair, screaming and cursing at me. Waving his pocket
knife in me face, he took me by my right ear and lifted me off
the ground. I yelped in pain as I struggled to get free. He only
laughed and pulled harder. There was an unbearable stinging
sensation as I felt the skin on me cheek rip apart. Blood spilled
everywhere, turning me world red as me father threw me to the
ground." Finn flinched at the memory and trailed his finger down
the long scar on the right side of his face. The stranger once
again urged him on.
With a sigh, Finn continued. "I woke
sometime later. Me father had gone and I hoped and prayed that he
got hit by a bus on the way home. I knew at the time it was
horrible of me to think that way. But, nothing else could really,
truly explain the hatred I felt toward me own father. I finally
realized that the whole right side of me face was numb. I pressed
me fingers into the gash that started at me earlobe and ended at
the tip of me chin. I stitched it up myself since I had no money
to get it stitched up properly. Me dad never came home, luckily
for me. The apartment was taken away from me since I couldn't
afford it. I was already at the legal age of working and living
by myself. I lived in a damp cardboard box on the corner of me
own street. People bustled by for about 2 months. I got sick of
it and decided to go to New York with the money I had managed to
save. I made a living there as an artist. Things seemed to be
brightening up for me at least. That is until two thugs attacked
me one night as I was walking home from work. They demanded me
money, me watch and whatever valuables I had on me. I refused and
pushed past them, failing to notice the baseball bat one of them
was carrying. They struck me in the head and took me stuff,
leaving me in the gutter half conscious and half unconscious. I
woke the next morning with a blood halo around me head. I got to
me feet and made me way home. Yeah, I was dizzy and uncoordinated
but whatever. I was used to that kind of stuff by then."
"I got sick of New York, since
everywhere I went seemed to be unsafe. I ditched the hell hole
and travelled to the Realm. I became a slayer of all evil forces.
I thought it suited me well since there was still lot of anger
within me. I guess I thought it would help me. Yeah, you could
call me scarred and broken but I don't really give. I've learned
that life is a learning process. So, deal with it."
Finn may seem like a really nice guy
on the outside. He is. But you just got to be careful because he
has some anger problems. He's learned from his past not to trust
anyone. But over time, if you treat him with respect, he'll warm
up. He just feels insecure, that's all. There are no hard
feelings towards you. No, he ain't looking for trouble. He just
wants to feel more secure - he's sick of feeling like he's
outside looking in.
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