Post by Skylar Brown on Jun 1, 2011 9:42:52 GMT -6
SKYLARELIZABETHBROWN
“Well, tell me a little about yourself. What’s your name?”
Skylar if-you-F*cking-shorten-it-to-Sky-I-will-end-you Brown.... Though mom insisted that my middle name was Elizabeth when she was alive. It's just Skylar. Or Miss. Brown. But never, ever, is it Sky. I can and will whip your ass if calling me that.
“Next question, how’s school?”
Public school. I got F*cking straight A's. I was a model student.... except for the fights... they happened a lot. Let's see... Yeah. School was boring. I had to learn at the same pace as the rest of the morons in my class. It. F*cking. Sucked. I hated it. Really, I mean maybe it's just me but when I learn something, it's in there, and having to learn about it for the next three weeks because some asshole in the class can't seem to get it through their thick scull? Yeah, it's F*cking stupid. So in short, I was the smartest F*cking person in the class, I hated school, and I wish I could shoot the place up beside honestly, those fuckers don't need to reproduce.
“What did you do when you weren’t in school?”
I wrote stories. F*ck, I'm still writing stories. Except the fuckers at this stupid ass school took my computer away from me. What, you think I'm going to do something bad on it? Really? I'm in here for F*cking murder, not for selling child porn or some crazy ass shit like that. But enought ranting, though I kinda say I love me a good rant. Really. I could rant up one way and down another. And... Honestly I stayed in my room most of the time, like I do here. I've taught myself to play the guitar. when I was little I took singing lessons but you have more of a chance to get punched in the face then you do of hearing me sing. Oh, and I can cook. Decently, at least. You won't starve.
“Tell me about your friends and family. How are your relationships with them?”
F*ck friends and family. Friends, well, there is none. I'd rather eat my own left F*cking hand then be nice to someone long enough to actually become F*cking friends with them. I respect people though, but it takes a F*cking lot to earn my respect. You have to have your arm hacked off and sown it back together with locks of your F*cking hair to earn any damn respect from me.
Family? My grandparents were killed before I was born, and don't ask me to remember their names because I don't F*cking care. I really, really, really don't. Alright, so, my parents. My dad was MIA by the time my mom was six months pregnant and I don't even F*cking know his name. I'll tell you this, I ever meet him, that F*cker is gonna know what it feels like to have every damn bone in his body broken before I end him. My mom... I only knew her until I was eight so it's not like I have anything mean to say about her, in fact... She was a saint. She was the nicest person you would ever meet. She was amazing and wonderful and I loved her.. But she is dead none so...
And I guess you wanna know what happened with my step dad? I mean, he is the reason I'm in here. I'm gonna try to sum him up in as few words as possible but it might turn into a rant. He liked to drink. I'm not talking "kicking it with the boys getting drunk on the weekends" I'm talking full out drinking all the damn time. He was mean, and spiteful. I remember one time, the year after my mom died, and the last time I celebrated Christmas without her, he wrapped all these boxes and left them under the tree on Christmas morning. I woke up and got excited and happy for the first time since she died, and I opened them all, and they were empty. They were empty F*cking boxes under the tree. I started crying and asked why Santa would do that, and he said "That F*cker isn't real, go get me a beer." He was twisted, too. He would hit an animal in the road then back up and hit it again. One time I watched him kill a dog with his bare hands. He was a sick F*ck.
“Well we know about your friends and family, but what do you think about yourself? Describe yourself to me.”
When the F*ck is this gonna be over? Like F*cking really, you've seen my picture, you've seen the scars and the skinniness and the over all look of a fucked up individual, do I really need to tell you every damn detail? This isn't helping me get over my F*cking issues, asshole.
Alright, let's start with the most noticeable one, shall we? I have a scar from a burn that wraps around half of my right hand and down my wrist. How'd I get it? In the fire that took my mom. I fell trying to get to her, and I hit my head and blacked out. The fire fighter said he found me with my hand in a fire. I have a barely visible scar on the left side of my forehead from where I hit my head, but you have to get really close to me to see it and I doubt I'd let you. I have scars on the inside of my forearms from where my step-dad used me as an ash tray. I'm super F*cking skinny cause I don't eat. I mean I eat, but rarely, and when I do I eat massive amounts of food. My hair is red and my eyes are green... There really isn't much else to me except my hair cut, which comes from me hacking all my hair off and then using hair spray to get to it to stick up... It enjoy it.
“Have you had any trouble with the law?”
..... You're F*cking shitting me, right? Like, this can't seriously be a F*cking question. Of F*cking course I've been in F*cking trouble with the law. Why the F*ck would I be here if I hadn't? Have a answer for that? No, I didn't think so. Really, I thought all those questions were stupid, this one is just... Ugh. Fine, I'll humor you and answer it, would that make you F*cking happy?
I killed someone. Oh, you wanted more then that? F*ck. Okay, so, I killed my step father. Why? Because he raped me for F*cking years. I guess after my mom died he decided I was the next best thing. It started after I came home from the hospital after the fire. He'd crawl into my bed, drunk, and he'd "play a little game" with me. Those games hurt like a bitch, and if I fought back, he made them hurt worst. He stopped for a while when I turned thirteen, and I duct taped him to his chair one morning, put a knife to his throat and told him if he touched me away I would kill him. It was a F*cking bluff. I was a kid, I wasn't really going to kill him.. But I guess he believe me because he didn't touch me again until like, a year and a half later. He crawled into my bed, and I tried to fight him off, but he was to strong... Okay, so enough of my fucked up childhood, yeah?
Okay, so the next day... I had to go to school, but I don't really remember it. I don't remember much about that day, really. I remember coming home, and I was in the kitchen doing my homework in a daze. Then he called from the other room for me to get him a beer, and I did... Or, at least I thought I did. Doctors say I suffered from a psychotic break, and I stabbed him to death..
“Why did you do it?”
...... F*cking REALLY?! Do I even need to answer this? Wouldn't you have done it? If it were your sister, or your mother, or god forbid, your daughter, wouldn't you have wanted them to do the same thing? Look, I'm not saying what I did was right, hell, I don't even remember doing it. I did it because.. Because maybe I'd just had enough. If I would go back, I probably wouldn't do it. I'd run away instead. I'd tell a teacher maybe. I don't know what the F*ck I'd do but I wouldn't F*cking kill him, I'm just saying I'm glad he can never do that again.
“What is the worst thing you’ve done?”
Is this where I'm suppose to say killing my step dad? Because I really don't think that's the worst thing I've done. I think doing something bad is doing something that hurts someone else, emotionally. Like.. I guess it would be all the nasty things I've said to people out of hurt, or anger. That's the worst thing I've done. Not killing him. Yeah, it was bad, but I can't bring myself to say that taking that man off the earth was the worst thing I've done. In fact, it might be one of the better things I've done for humanity.
"What the thing you're most proud of?"
I'm not... Proud of anything. I've never done anything great in my life, people won't remember my name. I mean, I was in the news paper, yeah, but people won't care after a while, plus it wasn't like it was for something good. I'm not super proud of my grades, they're just grades. I don't think I'll get into a decent college anyway because who wants someone that has a murder charge on there record. Even if it was a "crime of passion."
"Got any vices?"
I don't do drugs. Never have, never will. It's a sign of weakness. I don't smoke, I'd rather not die in a fit of violent coughing, I don't drink, probably comes from the having a drunk in my house in the time I was 8. I'm sorry, before than but I don't remember much. I don't really have any vice, or "bad habits". I don't bite my nails, or the skin around my nails. I don't have any little just F*cking adorable habits like biting my lip. Could wanting to punch someone in the face every time they pass by me be a vice? Cause if so, than that's my vice. I do it with pretty much everyone.
“If you could change one thing about your life what would it be?”
Um, the abusive step-father? I would have done away with that. I wouldn't say to have my mother back, because than she just would've been going through what I went through. I don't want that for her, she deserved better than that. She was an angel, a saint, really. If I was one tenth as nice as she was, I probably wouldn't be here right now. I'd probably be out saving puppies lives or something. But if you mean one thing I could change about my life now I'd probably change the scarring. Okay, I understand if people want to rip their kids away from me once they know me, but they just act like I'm some crazy psycho before they know I'm some crazy psycho. It pisses me off.
“What act got you sent here and who recommended it?”
The murder, I almost got locked up for good but after my lawyer argued "crime of passion" the judge decided I needed a second chance because I was so young. So my lawyer pulled this place out of his ass and suggested it. She agreed and here I am. I really don't know what you want me to say here, don't you already know all this shit? Damn.
“Do you deserve to be here?”
What the hell kind of question is this? Do I, the person that murdered someone, deserve to be here? I guess you wanted me to say no, I don't, I deserve to be in jail but honestly I don't think that. I shouldn't be in jail. I was a kid before he got to me. He took my childhood away from me. He took everything away from me, even my mother. So I think taking away his last years, which he was probably going to spend as a drunk until he died, was probably still not enough punishment.
"Tell me about your life before B.A.D. contacted you."
Didn't I already explain this? I swear if I have to repeat myself one more F*cking time I'm punching someone dead in the eye. I lived a happy childhood until I was eight, then my mom died, in a fire. The same exact one where I got these scars, or most of them anyway. But you already know all this, cause I already told you. But you wanna hear it again, so here we go. Again. What the hell is wrong with you people, I mean really? Don't you think bringing all this shit up is hurtful?! God dammit.
Okay so then after my mom dad my step-father started abusing me. It wasn't just sexual it was psychically. I can't tell you how many times I've been thrown into a wall and just left there, limp like a rag doll. So yes, I acted out in high school. I got into fights, I beat people up. I honestly have no idea why I did it. Maybe I was doing it because I couldn't fight the one person I didn't want to fight. But I don't care. I'm done with this F*cking conversation, Okay? F*ck you and your stupid F*cking questions.
Brown, Skylar E:
Race:
DOB and Age: October 31st, 17.
Age admitted to Blackwood’s Academy: 17, a few months.
Grade: Senior.
Health issues: Allergic to cats.
Other: Generally doesn't like people.
Race:
DOB and Age: October 31st, 17.
Age admitted to Blackwood’s Academy: 17, a few months.
Grade: Senior.
Health issues: Allergic to cats.
Other: Generally doesn't like people.
Your name: Mal
How you found us: I play Pixel.
Code word in the Rules: Admin Edit
Play by: Elly Jackson
