Post by JMDavis ((Silver)) on Oct 8, 2008 18:37:40 GMT -5
The Hobo
When I was young, I lived a happy and normal life. I had two wonderful parents who loved me and took excellent care of me, even being able to afford me taking kung fu lessons after school. In school, I was an average student, I focused more on fun and friends than studies though. In high schoole, my record continued, and escalated. I now had a wonderful girlfriend, a lot of amazing friends, and popularity. All of these made me hated by one student who went by a nickname, The Genius. This teen was one of the smartest students in the school, attributed to his ostrasization from society for the fact of another nickname; Freakshow.
The Genius got this nickname for the fact that he would practice fighting with strange sabres after school, and was very womanly, going so far as to take estrogen pills, which people openly mocked him about. I was among those, bullying him once or twice.... or everyday.
But come graduation it was he who had the last laugh. He walked across the stage to get his diploma while I was a highschool flunkout with a pregnant girlfriend. After that disaster I looked everywhere for someone to hire me, and ended up begging for work and money on the streets.
Here I came across a rival for the coin and job of people, a bitter and aggressive bum who tried to kill me once or twice. It came to the point where he and I fought hard one night, kicking him into nuclear sludge that was dumped in the alley by the big business Bossco. I figured him dead when he stopped breathing and left home quickly.
I returned to find my wife crying on the sidewalk outside our home, our young child clutched in her arms as she pleaded with someone sitting in a large limo that was almost lifted up in the front end from some strange weight in the back. I rushed to console my wife and find out who the owner of this car was, as I arrived at her side, I looked in and saw the largest man I had ever seen. His whole back seat was laden with the most expensive foods and beverages, and it showed he partook in them regularly, having at least twenty chins, all resting on his large stromach.
With a mean smile he explained that the bank had just finished repossessing our house and to have a good evening. The limo drove off with a trail of sparks flying behind it like fiery snow.
Four days later my wife divorced me to live with her mother, leaving me cold and alone upon the streets.
I'm now almost forty years old, being nineteen when my wife had left. I that time I restarted my martial art lessons, though not in a conventional way. I started to borrow electricity from a home I was living against, fidning a vcr and a tv that still worked. And began to play old vhs tapes of kung fu movies and do-it-yourself-karate tapes.
These started to help me become an unlikely hero, in my own mind and those of others, for I would regularly give help to stop crime.
I have a strange feeling that I may need the skills I learned soon, though.
When I was young, I lived a happy and normal life. I had two wonderful parents who loved me and took excellent care of me, even being able to afford me taking kung fu lessons after school. In school, I was an average student, I focused more on fun and friends than studies though. In high schoole, my record continued, and escalated. I now had a wonderful girlfriend, a lot of amazing friends, and popularity. All of these made me hated by one student who went by a nickname, The Genius. This teen was one of the smartest students in the school, attributed to his ostrasization from society for the fact of another nickname; Freakshow.
The Genius got this nickname for the fact that he would practice fighting with strange sabres after school, and was very womanly, going so far as to take estrogen pills, which people openly mocked him about. I was among those, bullying him once or twice.... or everyday.
But come graduation it was he who had the last laugh. He walked across the stage to get his diploma while I was a highschool flunkout with a pregnant girlfriend. After that disaster I looked everywhere for someone to hire me, and ended up begging for work and money on the streets.
Here I came across a rival for the coin and job of people, a bitter and aggressive bum who tried to kill me once or twice. It came to the point where he and I fought hard one night, kicking him into nuclear sludge that was dumped in the alley by the big business Bossco. I figured him dead when he stopped breathing and left home quickly.
I returned to find my wife crying on the sidewalk outside our home, our young child clutched in her arms as she pleaded with someone sitting in a large limo that was almost lifted up in the front end from some strange weight in the back. I rushed to console my wife and find out who the owner of this car was, as I arrived at her side, I looked in and saw the largest man I had ever seen. His whole back seat was laden with the most expensive foods and beverages, and it showed he partook in them regularly, having at least twenty chins, all resting on his large stromach.
With a mean smile he explained that the bank had just finished repossessing our house and to have a good evening. The limo drove off with a trail of sparks flying behind it like fiery snow.
Four days later my wife divorced me to live with her mother, leaving me cold and alone upon the streets.
I'm now almost forty years old, being nineteen when my wife had left. I that time I restarted my martial art lessons, though not in a conventional way. I started to borrow electricity from a home I was living against, fidning a vcr and a tv that still worked. And began to play old vhs tapes of kung fu movies and do-it-yourself-karate tapes.
These started to help me become an unlikely hero, in my own mind and those of others, for I would regularly give help to stop crime.
I have a strange feeling that I may need the skills I learned soon, though.
