Post by animalityopera on Aug 28, 2011 14:30:13 GMT -6
DEVANKOHAKUMIYAMOTO
“Well, tell me a little about yourself. What’s your name?”
Devan Kohaku Miyamoto. Parents wanted an American name, grandparents wanted a Japanese name, so my parents picked my first and my grandparents picked my middle. Devan is supposed to mean either "ox" or "dark" in Irish or some shit. F*ck if I know what my middle or last name means.
“Next question, how has your High School career gone thus far?”
I went to a below average public high school. Did Freshmen year twice because I skipped too much. Grades always sucked... Didn't like my classes, didn't like my peers, and sure as hell didn't like my teachers. The only thing I ever earned in school was detention and a reputation. Everyone thought I was batshit.
“What did you do when you weren't in school? Any hobbies or sports, anything like that?”
No. I'd pick fights downtown. Trespass everywhere. Kill neighbors' pets. I dunno if you'd call those hobbies, hahaha. You'd think I was one of those kids into violent video games, but no... I haven't ever found a video game fun. My art teacher liked my stuff in her class enough, but I don't draw or make anything outside of school. I like movies sometimes, I guess... But I'm really picky. I like nice clothes, too... If I had a lot of money, I'd probably spend it on fancy clothes: custom-tailored, high-quality blazers and slacks and collared shirts and whatever. I guess I figure, if I end up a serial killer someday I'm not gonna be like the ones you see on the news that dress like fuckin' trailer trash. If I'm going to kill people and get lots of media attention for it, I'm going to look good, hahaha.
“Family and friends are pretty important. Tell me about them. How are your relationships with them?”
I'm an only child. My mom left when I was six. My dad worked two jobs, both third shift-ish janitor-like something or other I think. He drank a lot and beat on me just about every day, until I got strong enough to fight back... When I did, it only took him one fight to learn to leave me alone. After that he'd about piss himself if I was in the same room as him. He'd slink around the house like a beaten dog. It was great seeing so little of him; it was like the place was all mine.. but without having to pay for it, haha.
I was never into friends. In middle school I had a little gang for awhile. They all looked up to me and shit, I guess. They were kind of useful, sometimes... But they dropped off when they started to realize I wasn't attached to them in the least. In high school I had one companion, this stupid kid, Zeke. "Zeke the geek" was what they called him, because he was really into computers and whatever. He was annoying as F*ck sometimes, but if I ever had someone I could call a friend, I guess it'd be him. Little shit didn't give a F*ck how I treated him or other people. He was like a... a mindless, loyal dog that didn't care who I was and.. followed me around anyway.
“Thank you for sharing that with me. So those are your family and friends, what about yourself? Describe yourself to me.”
.... I'm a sick F*ck. Probably even more than everyone seems to think. I don't think or feel like other people do. People talk about getting "butterflies" when they're nervous, or feeling their chest tighten when they're sad, but I've never had any of that. And like in the movies when you can hear someone's conscious thoughts? I don't think like that. My mind doesn't sound like that. My head is this constant mess of whispers and murmurs I.. can barely understand. That's part of why I don't talk much, because F*ck if I even know what I'm saying, because I don't think much, I guess.
... Oh, you're looking at me funny now, haha. Did you mean outside? Well.... Reddish brown hair, black-brown eyes... Kind of pale for a Japanese skin tone... People seem to find me pretty good-looking, I guess... Teachers would poke fun at my fitting the "tall, dark, and handsome" type, or assholes would call me "pretty boy" and shit like that. It's never gone to my head, though. I don't really see it. I don't shower all that frequently, I've got a bunch of scars from fighting, I use shit like toothpaste and maple syrup to do my hair - is that what's attractive in a guy now?
“Other than the reason you're here, at Blackwood Academy, have you had any other issues with law enforcement?”
Tch, yeah... Like I said, lots of fighting - in and out of school - trespassing, killing animals. Though, I didn't get caught much trespassing... And neighbors didn't catch on to me killing their pets for years, and that was just because I stopped bothering to hide the bodies. Spent some time in a detention center and in therapy for that, and then some more when I put a kid from school in the hospital. F*cker had it coming, though.
“What is the worst thing you’ve done? Why did you feel the need to do that?”
.... There was a dog I killed, once. I don't know if it was anybody's. But it had been following me around all day, even watched me kill another dog. That scared it, but it still followed me. Well, I got sick of it after awhile.... Didn't like the way it was looking at me... So I beat it to death with a metal bat. But the way it looked at me didn't change the whole time, and it didn't try to run away - which just made me want to kill it more. But even after it was dead that feeling didn't leave; I still felt... bothered, like it was still looking at me like it had. And I still feel.. bothered every time I think of it.
But the worst thing, really, I guess, is what got me here. Killing Zeke felt a lot like killing that dog.... and it... bothers me the same way, whenever I think about it.
"What is one of the things you're most proud of?"
... I did a huge drawing of a war battle scene, once, for school. I really liked how it turned out, actually. All the anatomy and uh.. proportions were right, and.. my art teacher went on about how all the... composition and whatever, all that fancy art shit, was really good. I guess I'm pretty proud of that, but not because the art teacher or the school liked it, but because I liked it.
"Other than your trouble with law enforcement, do you have any vices or addictions?"
Smoking, drugs, alcohol... Never got into any of it. It's all disgusting, and it makes people F*cking stupid, too. Probably sounds funny coming from me, but I don't like the idea of losing any kind of self-control, either.
Although, I have a thing about blood. I'm not some freak who thinks I'm a vampire; I don't drink blood, I only have a taste for it as much as the next guy. But it really... fascinates me, I guess. I love watching things bleed. It makes me kind of crazy, even. A lot of people at school had the idea I was squeamish because I did my best to avoid blood, but that was because I felt like if I stared at a wound too long I'd have to rip it open or something. It just makes me crazy.
“If you could change one thing about your life what would it be?”
I don't think there's anything I've ever regretted or really wished was different. If I had to change something, I guess I'd change what got me here... because.. I guess sometimes I.... Just because then I wouldn't have to be here, F*ck. F*ck.
“What criminal act got you sent here and who recommended it?”
... I killed that kid, Zeke. He had been spending a lot of time with me after school. Some days after school I wouldn't go straight home, even after detention on the days I had it - I'd wander around town or hang around school. Well, he had taken to following me around before I went home... He'd even wait for me to get out on the days I had detention. He'd try talking to me, but I didn't talk much, so most of the time it was more like he was just talking to himself, but I guess he was okay with that because it sure as hell didn't stop him from talking.
Sometimes we would just walk around and sometimes we'd actually do something.... There was a day we were out on the baseball field at school... Neither of us really played baseball or anything, but he was pitching and I was batting.. just for something to do while he talked, I guess. I hadn't been feeling good that day. I got really dizzy all of a sudden and just about fell over, and Zeke came running over to try to steady me.... I didn't like it. I didn't like the way he was looking at me. So I pushed him away, but he kept coming closer with... that look on his face.... He kept asking if I was okay. He'd been asking that all day because I guess he could tell I didn't feel good. But I didn't like it. So I hit him with the bat, which knocked him over.. and once I started I just kept swinging... Especially when his head started to bleed.... But he didn't really... try to get away. He just cowered on the ground, and he kept looking at me, just like that damned dog. And I beat him to death, just like that dog.... And I had that bothered feeling again even after he had stopped looking at me, after he was dead, that feeling didn't go away.
Well, a teacher saw the whole thing and called the cops, and I hadn't gone anywhere when they got there. I had kept swinging until I got dizzy again and couldn't swing anymore. Between the teacher witness and my lawyer, what I did was labeled "voluntary manslaughter" instead of "murder", and because of the history I had F*cking shit up before, the judge suggested this place instead of the usual detention center and therapy combo(which obviously hadn't worked)...
“Do think that you deserve to be here?”
Yes. F*ck, I should probably be in prison or a mental hospital.... I think I liked what I did. I like taking lives. I like those pained last breaths, and bones breaking and blood.. bleeding. The satisfaction of driving a knife into a body... or smashing a skull with a bat, or the feeling of my hand around a throat. Animal or human.. It doesn't make much difference to me.
"Tell me about your life before Blackwood Academy contacted you, what led up to your stay here."
... Hnn... I grew up an only child in a pretty damn poor neighborhood. Barely knew my mom, she left when I was six because she probably didn't like my dad. He beat both of us until she left, then it was just me, and then it was almost every day. Punching me, pushing me around, putting cigarettes out on me, throwing shit at me... I don't know if I ever needed a hospital; I never went to one, anyways. After awhile I stopped feeling.. most of it.
... I think I started killing when I was nine or 10. There were a lot of cats around. I never liked cats, so I killed a lot of them. I didn't care if they had owners or not. But I went for dogs, too, and wild animals I'd find sometimes in traps. I killed a lot... Probably once or twice every other day.... It was something I always looked forward to. I usually used a knife, but sometimes a bat, or sometimes just my bare hands... Probably half of my scars are from cat scratches and dog bites, haha. The other half are from fighting, which I started when I was in 7th grade with kids in school. By 9th grade I would walk downtown to pick fights with thugs wandering around at night... I tried to avoid groups bigger than three or four, though.
In 10th grade I met Zeke... He had been around the one of the two years I was a freshman but had never talked to me. He looked at me a lot, though. But everyone did, I guess. He was kind of annoying. He talked a lot, even though I didn't answer a lot. He'd just go on and on about stupid things. But he didn't get in my way or anything so I didn't care that he followed me around.... Then he started acting funny... He'd be about to say something and then he would stop... He started doing that a lot. Kids started beating on him more, too. He was always made fun of but he didn't get beat up much, until he started hanging out with me... You would think kids would get the idea I'd kick their ass for beating up Zeke, but I guess they knew me too well for that. He never complained though, and he never asked for my help. He was annoying but not in the ways that would have made me really mad, I guess, haha.... But that look he gave me on the baseball field made me mad. I didn't like the way he had been acting, and I didn't like the things people had been saying or the way they had been looking at us. I think how he looked at me on the baseball field was enough.. I think I was sick of it all by then. I was sick of him.
.... I hope you've asked everything you wanted to know, because if we're done that's the most you're going to get out of me the rest of the time I'm here... I know how this shit works, I answer your questions and you leave me alone. So now that I've answered everything I'd better never be asked this shit again, by anyone. They can go to you if they want to know.
Last Name, First Name, Middle Initial: Miyamoto, Devan, K.
Race: Japanese American
DOB and Age: November 13 ... 17
Age admitted to Blackwood’s Academy: 17 ... Been here just a few weeks.
Grade: 11
Health issues: People seem to think I'm a psychopath... If that's a health issue. Most prominently, conduct disorder likely to develop into Antisocial Personality Disorder. Also has dyslexia and ailurophobia(fear of cats).
Other: Devan displays a very unusually high pain tolerance, to the point where one might get the idea he doesn't feel pain at all. Thought not on the level of a phobia, he exhibits a certain discomfort in the presence of fire.
Race: Japanese American
DOB and Age: November 13 ... 17
Age admitted to Blackwood’s Academy: 17 ... Been here just a few weeks.
Grade: 11
Health issues: People seem to think I'm a psychopath... If that's a health issue. Most prominently, conduct disorder likely to develop into Antisocial Personality Disorder. Also has dyslexia and ailurophobia(fear of cats).
Other: Devan displays a very unusually high pain tolerance, to the point where one might get the idea he doesn't feel pain at all. Thought not on the level of a phobia, he exhibits a certain discomfort in the presence of fire.
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