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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