Verse 1 (Beginning)

Verse 1 (Beginning)

A Chapter by Blackdeer
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Michaell Pat describes his life and the kind of person he was formed into before an accident he was involved in.

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I’m not a saint.
Everybody did things in their past that their not proud of, I’m just part of the group that did more and didn’t care about the outcome. It’s not that I don’t have a heart or that I’m evil or I’m this cold blooded lizard monster that feeds on misery. It’s just, once you get into your first fight or rob your first store or use your first weapon to take someone’s life; you just don’t care about the second, third, and fourth time. That’s what separates the weak from people, because in life, real life, there is no strong. A man able to pull trailers could be crushed by the most feeble of his enemies. If you outwit the dumb b*****d, you could even have him believing that you were able crush cinder blocks and he was the weak one.
Life is for the strong and those able to live it, life is for people. It has no time for weakness.
Hell, I can say I did live one hell of a life and I damn sure had a fun time living it. I didn’t fear anything and there are very few things that I respected, as it should be in life. If your someone who didn’t live like this, you probably had a hard time or your dead now. So what if someone’s bigger than you, if they have a gun, or a f****n’ army behind their back. They’ re made of the same crap that brought you into this world of s**t. Its like f****n’ being terrified of a different version of yourself, which makes you weak, which makes you less then people, and will have you end up either dead or someone’s p***y, everyday wishing you where dead. I never backed down from anything. Not any person, any animal, or any object. Those who faced me suffered the consequences and any fool willing to follow
another idiot against me met the same faith.
This could be the reason how I ended up here.
Unable to move my body, let alone feel my body, my ears are blood shot and I can just pick up faint sounds with them. My eyes are fading in and out from visibility and it’s not from me blinking. Shadows are constantly passing by my body, I think the people closest to me are paramedics trying to figure out if I’m alive or somewhat enough to make it to a hospital. It’s funny, most people would have let me die after the chaos I just caused, especially the police, but nope. I’m constantly being monitored by ECG machines, IV fluids being pumped in and out of me, my body parts forcefully re-aligned (I’m bet this s**t would really hurt if I could feel it), and flash lights blinding my eyes after they were checked constantly for life, then I was ignored only to be blinded by the red, white, and blue lights of an emergency vehicle. Auugghhh!!! This is so damn boring. It’s not like their going to save me, any idiot can tell you once the main nervous system has been disconnected from the brain and multiple puncture wombs decorate the f*****g body; your days are up. If you have nothing telling your body parts that “Warning! Warning! We’ve been hit! Close the wombs, we’ re losing vital fluids,” your fucked. Hahahaha, no; my bodies basically saying “I don’t see a problem. Looks good to me” as I lay here bleeding to death. My muscles and joints are all relaxed, ready to meet their faith.
Might as well give in.

Haha, I hear some dumb paramedic scream out “His vital signs are fading!! We’re losing him!” as fade into complete darkness for the last time. Hahahahaha we’re losing him, of course your freakin’ losing him; you never had him to damn begin with. I’m pretty sure my body looked like a swatted fly upon arrival of my current fan club. How did I end up being merged to the ground? I could have sworn I thought of at least 6 outcomes where I ended up fine. Hmmm, I guess you didn’t think this one all the way through, didn’t you Michelle. Ha*Smile*, I guess I really am dying if I’m using Kane’s dumb phrases and nickname for me.
Kane. I forgot all about my brother. I’ll actually miss him. To be honest, I only have 6 people in the world I’ll actually miss including Kane. I want to know what my siblings will do when they figure out that someone finally got me, the all Mighty Michaell finally met his match. No, I can’t give that a*s the credit for finishing me, technically I killed myself. If I got out of this I would have heard how “Stupid” I was from Kane and Avy, then the usual shun for the rest of the night and by tomorrow everything would go back to normal after Be yells at me tomorrow when she finds me at school. I’m a kinda glad I didn’t have to say goodbye, especially to Be, I don’t think I would have the strength to tell her I wouldn’t be able to see her again. It’s not like I liked her or anything it’s just…it’s just she a pain in my a*s and she’s always trying to boss me around and tell me what I should do and how I should live me life. God! She gets on my nerves sometimes. Always watching me, like I’m a worm and she’s some form of hawk or something. *Sigh* Even with all the pain she puts me through, I wouldn’t have changed how she was for anything. Sometimes she would make me seem like I was the most important thing in the world to her and she would constantly get stuck in my head more and more. She was a reason to make me care a little about this dumb world. If more people were out there like her, then maybe me and the rest of the evil in it would one day cease or be killed by righteousness. *Sigh* I can still feel a slight pain really deep inside me.
I can’t pin point the exact location but it’s strong enough for me to feel its presence. It’s not really hurting just, uncomfortable, like if you had a plastic tag rubbing against your skin from a T-shirt. It’s slowly getting stronger and fainter at the same time. If I can…just concentrate…on the area…I should be able to…know where it’s coming from. Ha! Haha of course. Hahaha, It’s my heart struggling to make its last few pumps. Any beat now and that should be it’s last and I’m officially dead. Oh s**t, this is it. No turning back. Its kind of exciting. Yay I’m scared, I never thought about how it would be when I died, I imagined it would be a long time from now, not in my f****n’ teens. Agh, isn’t life messed up. Never had a chance to get my own place, start my own family, grow old with somebody; I completed nothing. Auugh!!! I just realized, I’m gonna die a virgin! Well, I kissed plenty of chicks before (and did little more past first base things) but never actually got the chance to screw someone. F**k, I didn’t even get the chance to actually love someone. Well, I guess I could of got to know Be a little more. She’s nothing special but, ugghh…well, umm…AGHH!! She’s a little hot ok! Just don’t tell her that. God, f**k!! So what, I like Breanna ok. It’s not like I’m gonna ever get a chance to tell her that. There’s so many things I wish I could still tell her, at least one more time. That she wasn’t as bothering as I said she was and that I did like her looking out for me everyday and the days I decided to go to school, I was happy to see her even if I didn’t show it. God, there so many things I forgot to say to my two little idiots at home and how I won’t be able to take them away from that hell hole anymore. I can’t say to Inesa that I won’t be able to help her figure out where her real family lives or where she really from. Avy, I’m sorry…I’m sorry I was never the role model you wanted me to be. And to Kane…my second hand, my best friend, haha my psychiatrist and therapist, my dictionary full of useless knowledge, my…my…my brother. I’m so sorry I messed this one up really bad that not even you can fix it. *Sob* *Sniff**Sniff* Ha, give me a break, I can be sad ok. I don’t even remember the last time I even felt sad about something let alone cry over anything, I think this gets a f*****g pass.
You guys I’m sorry.
I may over abuse my intelligence but I got to admit this was a dumb move. I’ve never been religious but, god, please bless them with success, that be in wherever ever they need it, whether it be that their doing something good or bad, let them win. I’m not asking for them to be safe or to live long or some crap, what they do with their lives is on them and when there time comes, it comes, even if that day is a week from today. As long as they died the way they wanted and hopefully they were happy, I’m fine with that.
I’m sorry you guys, I’m so sorry.





Well I wasn’t always on the verge of death. I would say I lived a pretty good, normal life. I was born from two people; one being a skinny, ill framed women with the stench of depression and cheap alcohol (or narcotics) whose always bumming people for either a cigarette or a lighter or both; at least she’s kind of pretty though, for somebody who looks love like their out of it. The other is an a*s that made a mistake one day, while doing something he wouldn’t usually do with friends, went out with a “low level women” (by his standards) and apparently was so intoxicated (because apparently not only does he not usually go out to parties, he doesn’t drink or do anything “degrading” either) that he had sex with that women. He woke up the next morning in a side of town he was unfamiliar with (I believe covered in s**t and barf and completely disgusted with himself) and immediately got as far away from that area, that part of life, and that night as he possibly could. Unfortunately for the dumb stud, after many months, a day he had completely forgotten came back and haunted him again; the women showed up at one of his charity events, holding a jacket with a small child. The fool was in shock as the women screamed out to everyone that “We were meant to be together. Our son is a sign that we should be a family.” Then he swore to the heavens “Everyone I have no knowledge of that women or child she is carrying. She is clearly delusional, probably after doing what seems like heroin or cocaine”(as he pointed to the bruises on her arms and legs that she received from protecting her son from the different animals and people that attacked them on their journey to see their white knight, hence the reasons the child was wrapped in an abused, torn, and blood stained jacket) “Guys, if you really believe I would go as low as to sleep with someone who can’t even wait to hit it until after they finished business, I’m appalled you would think so low of me.” The pain that must have been in her heart after she heard that, it’s one of the only things that I actually feel sorry for her about. She truly loved him, thought that he would take her out of that life. To believe that fool actually loved her at a time.“You said that I was beautiful and you didn’t care about where I lived and what my job was. You loved me and you’ll love our son.” And he said with his heartless, belittling tone, “ The only family that I have right now is my grandma who lives in Utah. Everyone here knows her as the first female senator of Utah. I wouldn’t be able to face her telling her that I was engaged with someone she would consider a low life and not only that, had a child with her.” He stopped and stared at her in sorrow, as if he was looking at a homeless person on the street, careful not to get to close. “ Ma’am, now if that’s all you’re here to do, I must ask you to be on with your way or I will have to be forced to ask someone escort you out. I will even be generous enough to have them drop you off at a hospital and have someone look at those wounds on your body and help you out with your addiction problems. You’re a mother now; you should think more about how your outcomes will affect your baby.” Then he turned his back on his responsibilities as the women continued shouting and screaming at him until she was dragged out of the center by the the police, then driven to and dropped off in front of a closed rehabilitation center. “You should do something right for once in your life and wait here until this place opens up or the next place we’ll be throwing you out of is a morgue,” then they sped off into the night leaving the dirty, injured women outside to fend for her child against the terrors of the city. After two years of struggling and bouncing around from ditch to ditch, the poor women was in to much heartache and depravity that she was eventually apprehended and unfortunately her son was taken from her and put into the “magical” system of foster care. This is the only thing my mother ever told me about my father.
The day I was taken from my mom was the earliest memory I have. It wasn’t some “oh I’ll miss you son” and “Take care, you’ll always be my little boy” kind of moment. No, it was the morning, I think it was a weekday, some lady came and picked me up. I wasn’t crying. I barely knew what was going on. I think I was actually more sad for her. To me she looked trapped, as if she trying to stop the women or cry out to me through her eyes, but she just laid there, dazed and intoxicated. The story I heard was that she would go out throughout the day doing many jobs ( i.e. stripping, dispensing, and escorting) then come back to the garage she was renting from a friend, and drown her life away in the drugs she had. It eventually got to the point where she wouldn’t even go out anymore, only to get more drugs, and would stay hungover or high for hours (I think even even days sometimes) without end. CPS was called by her “friend” and the next morning I was taken and enrolled into Los Angeles Department of Children and Family Services. There, I was enrolled into the lovely Heavenly Family Services. Apparently I was to lovely for it and after three months of rejections (and great behavior) I was transferred to Loving Family Services. The dumb place wasn’t any better from the last and I was then constantly transferred and moved from facility to facility (hell I even went to a place called Muy Bueno Services for like a week) until I ended up at Southern California Foster Services in Downtown LA at age of three and a half. Apparently, I was no threat for them as they have seen one of “ every child” (whatever that means) and they had the “perfect” foster family for me. This is where my life began with my family. See, normal beginning just like everyone else’s life.
My brand new life in paradise started with me being driven to a big, broken down but somehow yet vintage and modern looking, poor and upscale building. It was called Palais Blanc (a middle class wealthy apartment complex for people who wanted to be something they’ re not) and it was a completely grand place to see I’m told every other day. We entered a small (but “grand”) hall made of cheap white marble that decorated the floors and ceiling where some, overly cologned idiot (whose name I will find out is Jon Pierre), escorted us to a very dated (but “grand”) elevator that looked as if they stole it from the Eiffel Tower while it was being remodeled. I would find out that this vast Hell hole has 30 floors but, as for that day I landed on the 22nd, went down the dark, motel rape victim looking hall to right and the last door on the left and stopping at Unit 2266. A women know as “Social Worker Jane” and her retarded assistant “Denis”, waited as Jon knocked on the door. We waited their for 20 minutes but heard no answer, then he knocked again. Same outcome, another 20 minutes passed, every adult wondered what could be keeping the owner of the complex and began talking and calling on their phones. “She knew we where meeting her right?” Denis asked Jane. “She has to. She’s the one that called and rescheduled on us twice. She said and I quote “I just can’t have you guys coming on any day and time. I’m a very busy women and I would need to find time to make my house look right to add another guest. Tuesday after 10 and nothing after 12, any other time and I’ll be busy or gone.”she said in a mocking tone. “What time is it now?” Jane told him “10:53.”then he asked Jon “ Do you know if she left or informed you that she would be busy today.” “ No. On the contrary she told me to escort her guest up when you arrived.” Denis seemed upset and started ranting on about how “this is unprofessional” and “we should just bring the boy back,” then turned and knocked two times really hard on the door before it swung open, and a large , kind of heavy set women with long blonde, gray, and black hair that was straightened and curled, walked out wearing a white-ish black dress with black high heels. “If I would have know you would come here, banging on my door as if it was some form of jack hammer and I was a criminal, I would have informed Monsieur Pierre to escort you through the back of our manner, and there act as if we were animals.” “Patricia Ma-“ Denis started until he was cut short. “Madame Roux or Mrs.Roux. I have been through enough in my life to have earned a simple Misses in front of my name, or are we still talking as if we were dogs.” Dennis cleared his throat and frowned, “Madame Roux, we have been waiting here for at least an hour. We knocked multiple times, tried calling you, and even asked Jon if he could call the front desk to see if your car was still in the garage. We are also busy ourselves and it’s not fair th-.” “And you believe I am just some fraud with high aspersions!” She cut him off again as the man took a step back. “I informed you twice of how busy I was and the times in which to arrive at my home, only to be man handled and detained. I should call that damn company of yours and see why they sent an untrained mess to my door and-.” “Madame Roux please. All we’re trying to do is deliver little Michaell here.” Jane said in the most calming tone I’ve ever heard from her. “We mean you no disrespect and trouble. Me and my colleague both apologize deeply. We’re just a little agitated from the wait.” Madame Roux was still angry but calmed, then she looked slightly confused. “What wait? I only heard you knock once.” Both social workers stumbled on their words trying to inform the old, senile woman how many times they knocked but she didn’t take any mind to them and only responded when Jon said “Oui. We have tried multiple time mademoiselle.” She gasped,“Oh, Mon dieu! I wonder why I wasn’t able to hear.” Mr.Pierre continued with, “Well Madame you have been telling me that you hearing has been going in and out these days and it was only yesterday that I called you and you continued to hang up because you said there was no one on the line.” The two workers turned and growled at the French man. “Why didn’t you tell us that sooner instead of having us yell at an old deaf women.” “Whose old and deaf?” the women asked as if she was shocked to hear someone in the building was. “N-no-no one Madame Roux. We were just talking about things that could of happened differently if you were deaf.” the man said cautiously. “Well, I have been having trouble with my hearing a little lately and now you do sound a little low. I’ll have someone check me tomorrow.” she stated while she turned toward the door and offered for them to come inside. “For now, let’s finish the matter at hand.”

We walked into a small, dim corridor with elegant paintings on either side, a very small glass chandelier that hung low from the ceiling, and white marble that matched the ones in the lobby. The room looked like someone tried to remodel their closet, but went overboard. At the roof of the room was a white door with a glass, see-through mirror that hung about a step above the ground. There was various shoes and slippers placed near the door. “Before you enter you must take off your walking shoes and don a pear of the guest slippers, or you are allowed to walk around in your socks if their adequate enough. You are not allowed to enter with your shoes or walk around barefoot.” Then she walked out of her heals and stepping into a pair of white laced sandals. The adults followed and began taking off their shoes. There was only one stool inside the small confined space, and our host occupied it as she waited for everyone to finish. “My apologies. I would have offered a seat but I’m unable to stand for too long after a long battle with knee problems. I was planning on adding more stools but this particular stool was the only one of its kind by the famous designer Sir Paul Lecoq. When I petitioned him to make another set, he refused.”( I can only imagine why he did IF that was a real story; she has yet to prove to me that he was real.) Jane was the first to finish. She glanced down at me and asked, “what about Michaell? Is he alright with his shoes on?”she glanced at the old women. “We must lead the next generation by example. So if everyone must do, so shall he.” Madame Roux said as if she was teaching the younger women. “But unfortunately he’s not wearing any socks underneath his shoes. His caregivers said that after they told him he might be with his family today, most of his clothes went missing as well as his toys. They spent two hours searching the facility, but couldn’t find as much as a shirt. We looked everywhere and just ended up taking him in what he had on with a jacket and a pair of shoes from the lost and found.” (Hahaha, The idiots didn’t think to look in the one place clothes would be kept if they went missing. I hid them underneath the piles of adult clothes inside the lost and found room. The room was located across for the laundry room. All I had to do was wait until they told me to get something I would like to wear, threaten the other kids who saw me gather up the few things I owned out of our room not to say anything, and while no one was looking, climb on top of my roommate’s bears and slide down the garbage shoot. After falling on top of smelly clothes, I would wait until it was silent, then run across into the lost and found room. Blending in my clothes with the years of dated junk was easy after that.) “Well, if he wants to act like an adult, why not make the little a*s come up with an answer like an adult. He can find something to wear on his feet or just simply walk on his hands,” she said smirking. I glared at the fat demon, then looked at Jane to tell me what to do. She frowned and I guess she herself had enough of the mad french women that she picked me up and held me in her arms, trying to hurry the process up as much as she could without anymore unnecessary delays. “Would this do?” she asked. The old women paused, then nodded as she heaved herself out of the stool and opened the white door.



© 2018 Blackdeer


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Added on January 6, 2018
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Tags: Adult-Language, violence, young-adult, action, influences


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Blackdeer
Blackdeer

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As I aspire to reach my goal of publishing television broadcasts and featured motion pictures through animation, I would be honored to be able to listen to the feedback and the thoughts of the public .. more..

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