Post by atticus crusoe malloy on Nov 26, 2014 15:02:18 GMT -5
ATTICUS C. MALLOY
TWENTY FIVE - BAR MANAGER - LOCAL - ALEX GASKARTH
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In life there are people who thrive on details, or those who can simply pass on them. While normally most people love to hear detail of someone else's life, Atticus could honestly care less about them. He didn't know or remember every single detail of his life. Although he knew a little bit. From the time he could remember he lived with his parents in the city. They were both teachers at a local school, but they were older than most of his friends' parents. He never really noticed that while his parents were close to retirement, that his friends' were always running to something at work. Although his parents were lax with him in the way of rules. They always just said they felt as though he would do what he thought appropriate. Atticus was a good kid in most senses, but no one would have ever guessed where his origins really were. To tell his future, one must know his past. Although it's not for the faint of heart, or those who would feel horrible for him once they found out who he truly was related to in the city. His parents, the Malloys that is, never wanted sympathy for him, just for him to be raised in a loving home, with people who would treat him well.
It all started with a rumor, whispers around the school. It was the school that Mrs. Judith Malloy had worked at for years. Sure it wasn't the first time she had heard a rumor of this caliber, but the first with a married young male teacher. A senior girl had become pregnant and wasn't exactly known for keeping a boyfriend. She was a little saucy from what she had heard. Rumors in a school spread faster than she truly realized. The poor girl was ridiculed day in and day out. the principle had eventually heard about it, and things did not bode well from there. The teacher, one Mr. Christopher Hendricks, was one that most of the other teachers felt the kids would be safe around. Until the child was born he was suspended from being at the school. Most likely lying to his wife about it. Although when he was able to come back to school, he talked about loving being able to spend time with his wife and two girls. Mrs. Malloy tried to keep a close eye on the girl though. The poor girl being Sydney Parker. Her eyes were always bloodshot, and she was frightfully thin, this all being before she got pregnant. Mrs. Malloy had also heard that she'd been a drug user, and from her file that the office had, she had been caught using in school. It hurt her to she a girl so young, troubled and on top of it pregnant. The worst of all that it could very well be her teacher's child. He was supposed guide her in the right direction, and he did a complete one eighty of that if all the rumors were true.
Although now Sydney seemed to be getting her act together. She had actually opened up to Mrs. Malloy about her baby boy. Sydney grew to speak about her son a lot, but not in front of students. They still glared at her, and treated her badly. But when she got home, she reminded herself that she had her bouncing baby boy, that she had lovingly named Trenton Jack Hendricks. Sure it was risky giving him his father's last name. But she had to get her point across. After about a year Sydney graduated and went out into the work force. Finally letting Mr. Hendricks into his son's life. Although it was only really when she needed someone to watch him when she had to work extra hours. Sydney always felt that Trenton was fine with his father, trusting that he would never bring harm to him. One night though, she was sadly mistaken. Arriving at her apartment the exact time that she said she would be, something didn't feel right. Unlocking the door to the apartment, realizing that her son's father was past out on her couch, one of her needles in his arm. Trenton though, was silent, oddly enough. She called an ambulance for Mr. Hendricks, realizing that it was going to look horrible, and she just might lose her son. Sure, she had put off the image of getting straightened out, but raising a child by yourself was hard. She had fallen back into her old ways with drugs, and obviously he had found some of her stash. Sydney paniced though when her boy wasn't anywhere near his father. Shouting for him, she ran around the small apartment, the last place she looked was the bathroom.
There Trenton was, in the bathtub with about three to four inches of water still in it. Although, most of it red, swirling around him. There was no knowing how long he was there, but his mouth was covered with tape. Sydney was horrified when she walked in on the scene. Who could imagine coming home from leaving their son with someone they trusted. Especially the poor boy's father, Sydney pulled her small child out of the water. Her eyes filled with tears, unsure of what to do. she examined him closely. He was still breathing, that was the good thing. But his eyes were shut, must have been for fear. Sydney looking him up and down as his body lay on the bathroom floor. As she searched for the hurt, she noticed something that horrified her. Up both of Trenton's arm were two long straight cuts. Like that of a straight razor. Her heart was thrown up into her throat. His father must have only done it moments before she had gotten there. Although it seemed like Trenton was going into shock, or well she didn't know what was happening to her helpless little boy. Sydney did what she could think to do, grabbing towels and wrapping them around each of his tiny arms. As soon as the ambulance got there, she carried Trenton out to the EMTs terrified that they were just going to take him away from her. While yes, that was true, Sydney got to ride with him to the hospital. Her mind racing realizing that whether he survived this or not, he wasn't ever coming home with her again. There was nothing she could do anymore. It wasn't long after that Mrs. Malloy was reading her daily paper, looking everything over, when she saw two familiar faces. Sydney Parker and Chris Hendricks, her eyes didn't leave the page for at least a full twenty minutes. The boy was being placed in a foster home after his two week stay at the hospital.
Reading about the poor boy, who endured having his mouth taped shut, while sitting in a bathtub, while his father cut two lines down the length of each of Trenton's forearms. When she read farther on she realized that the rumors were true. That Mr. Hendricks was indeed the boys father, and had done all the of damage dealt to his son. Then past out on Sydney's couch high on whatever she had in her apartment. It was let out later on that Trenton had been beaten and bruised that same night before his father left him for his death. The first thing Mrs. Malloy did was call the state to find out where the boy was placed. Her heart ached for him, that and he would be closer to his home if the family could adopt him. When they did, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy changed his name first. He was now to be called Atticus Crusoe Malloy from that day forward. But they also ended up with the court file and images of what had been done to their new son. Beaten, bruised, broken ribs. The obvious lines, now scars that traced his forearms. Now they knew more than the papers did. There were also injuries to his legs. All was healed now, and as much as they talked to the boy, he didn't seem to remember a thing. Just that they were his parents. Obviously one day he would have to be told his sad story, but it wouldn't be until he was much older.
Atticus grew up a loving, playful, and handsome young boy. Every day he achieves something new and proved that he was far from what his parents would thought he could turn out. They thought that eventually the memories would hit him, and he would act out. Truthfully, they prayed that he wouldn't end up troubled, but his age was much to young for the incident to have remembered it apparently. One thing was for sure though. Atticus was happy, his grades were good, and he was looking to turn out to be an amazing kid. Who would have known what would have become of him if he had stayed with his biological mother? He would have been an orphan, Mrs. Malloy read it in the paper when Atticus was seven. Drug overdose, it seemed to haunt her. If it ran in his blood, could he face the same trouble as he got older. It was hard to think that Atticus would turn to drugs, he was pleasant, polite and caring. Although as he aged, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy had a little bit of trouble with him. Sure, it wasn't much, but he had gotten into a couple of fights in high school over simple things. Most people asked about his scars on his arms, and obviously he could never explain them. Until one day, some kid got into his face, and laughed calling him a cutter. Which set Atti over the edge, it wasn't this easy to piss him off usually, but when it came to his scars he preferred when no one asked questions. Then came the smoking, and drinking. He partied sure, and his mother and father were not the first to realize that no matter what they did. If he wanted to do it, he was going to find a way. Atticus goofed around a lot but never really got into trouble. After his days in high school were over, he looked at himself strongly, realizing he looked like shit. Sure, he didn't stop the smoking and drinking. Who said a cigarette here and there would hurt someone? The drinking slowed down, almost to maybe one drink a week. Feeling way better about everything, taking his life a lot more seriously for his parents. Never realizing or knowing that the reason he had some issues giving everything up was because addiction ran in his family. His mother addicted to heroin, and his father an alcoholic. Although, sure in high school Atti had smoked weed, he never liked it and never went farther with drugs.
It wasn't until he was twenty-one, walking down the street to his place of work. A bar, he bartended some nights, other nights he played bouncer. It really depended on his mood, and his boss'. A newstand on his right caught his eye though. The front page story about how twenty years before one Sydney Parker found her son in her apartment's bathroom, two long cuts up each forearm. All Atticus could do was turn around and go home. Calling his boss on the way, explaining that he'd just be late. The first thing Atticus thought to do when he got to his family's home was to question someone. Anyone, he needed answers. His mother and father sat him down and had a long talk with him. He's eyes tearing up from all of the new information he was learning. He was adopted, his mother was a drug addict student, who had a relationship with a married teacher, and he was the result. His father showed him pictures of both of his parents, and Atticus just told them to put it away. He didn't want to see anymore. Normally he had an amazing relationship with his parents, one that most young adults could be jealous over, but tonight he could barely look at them. It wasn't their fault though, he was just thinking of the horrible things that his father had done to him. Looking down at his scars the whole time he spent walking to the bar.
Atticus is still pleasant though, don't ask him about his scars. You either won't get an answer or a fist to the jaw. He never liked questions and details very much, now he had his reason why. His subconscious hiding it away from him. Catch him on a good day, and you'll get the goofy Atti that everyone is happy to have around, and adores what he does. On a rough day, he's not very happy, but he won't throw his anger or sadness onto you. More times then he could think of he would cheer people up before he worried about his own sadness. Yes, everyone has their past, but the one that remains constant to Atticus is that family matters most, no matter what. It doesn't matter if you are blood related or not. His parents made him realize that the day they told him everything, and he realized that his life was so much better a Malloy, than whatever the hell his last name was previously.
In life there are people who thrive on details, or those who can simply pass on them. While normally most people love to hear detail of someone else's life, Atticus could honestly care less about them. He didn't know or remember every single detail of his life. Although he knew a little bit. From the time he could remember he lived with his parents in the city. They were both teachers at a local school, but they were older than most of his friends' parents. He never really noticed that while his parents were close to retirement, that his friends' were always running to something at work. Although his parents were lax with him in the way of rules. They always just said they felt as though he would do what he thought appropriate. Atticus was a good kid in most senses, but no one would have ever guessed where his origins really were. To tell his future, one must know his past. Although it's not for the faint of heart, or those who would feel horrible for him once they found out who he truly was related to in the city. His parents, the Malloys that is, never wanted sympathy for him, just for him to be raised in a loving home, with people who would treat him well.
It all started with a rumor, whispers around the school. It was the school that Mrs. Judith Malloy had worked at for years. Sure it wasn't the first time she had heard a rumor of this caliber, but the first with a married young male teacher. A senior girl had become pregnant and wasn't exactly known for keeping a boyfriend. She was a little saucy from what she had heard. Rumors in a school spread faster than she truly realized. The poor girl was ridiculed day in and day out. the principle had eventually heard about it, and things did not bode well from there. The teacher, one Mr. Christopher Hendricks, was one that most of the other teachers felt the kids would be safe around. Until the child was born he was suspended from being at the school. Most likely lying to his wife about it. Although when he was able to come back to school, he talked about loving being able to spend time with his wife and two girls. Mrs. Malloy tried to keep a close eye on the girl though. The poor girl being Sydney Parker. Her eyes were always bloodshot, and she was frightfully thin, this all being before she got pregnant. Mrs. Malloy had also heard that she'd been a drug user, and from her file that the office had, she had been caught using in school. It hurt her to she a girl so young, troubled and on top of it pregnant. The worst of all that it could very well be her teacher's child. He was supposed guide her in the right direction, and he did a complete one eighty of that if all the rumors were true.
Although now Sydney seemed to be getting her act together. She had actually opened up to Mrs. Malloy about her baby boy. Sydney grew to speak about her son a lot, but not in front of students. They still glared at her, and treated her badly. But when she got home, she reminded herself that she had her bouncing baby boy, that she had lovingly named Trenton Jack Hendricks. Sure it was risky giving him his father's last name. But she had to get her point across. After about a year Sydney graduated and went out into the work force. Finally letting Mr. Hendricks into his son's life. Although it was only really when she needed someone to watch him when she had to work extra hours. Sydney always felt that Trenton was fine with his father, trusting that he would never bring harm to him. One night though, she was sadly mistaken. Arriving at her apartment the exact time that she said she would be, something didn't feel right. Unlocking the door to the apartment, realizing that her son's father was past out on her couch, one of her needles in his arm. Trenton though, was silent, oddly enough. She called an ambulance for Mr. Hendricks, realizing that it was going to look horrible, and she just might lose her son. Sure, she had put off the image of getting straightened out, but raising a child by yourself was hard. She had fallen back into her old ways with drugs, and obviously he had found some of her stash. Sydney paniced though when her boy wasn't anywhere near his father. Shouting for him, she ran around the small apartment, the last place she looked was the bathroom.
There Trenton was, in the bathtub with about three to four inches of water still in it. Although, most of it red, swirling around him. There was no knowing how long he was there, but his mouth was covered with tape. Sydney was horrified when she walked in on the scene. Who could imagine coming home from leaving their son with someone they trusted. Especially the poor boy's father, Sydney pulled her small child out of the water. Her eyes filled with tears, unsure of what to do. she examined him closely. He was still breathing, that was the good thing. But his eyes were shut, must have been for fear. Sydney looking him up and down as his body lay on the bathroom floor. As she searched for the hurt, she noticed something that horrified her. Up both of Trenton's arm were two long straight cuts. Like that of a straight razor. Her heart was thrown up into her throat. His father must have only done it moments before she had gotten there. Although it seemed like Trenton was going into shock, or well she didn't know what was happening to her helpless little boy. Sydney did what she could think to do, grabbing towels and wrapping them around each of his tiny arms. As soon as the ambulance got there, she carried Trenton out to the EMTs terrified that they were just going to take him away from her. While yes, that was true, Sydney got to ride with him to the hospital. Her mind racing realizing that whether he survived this or not, he wasn't ever coming home with her again. There was nothing she could do anymore. It wasn't long after that Mrs. Malloy was reading her daily paper, looking everything over, when she saw two familiar faces. Sydney Parker and Chris Hendricks, her eyes didn't leave the page for at least a full twenty minutes. The boy was being placed in a foster home after his two week stay at the hospital.
Reading about the poor boy, who endured having his mouth taped shut, while sitting in a bathtub, while his father cut two lines down the length of each of Trenton's forearms. When she read farther on she realized that the rumors were true. That Mr. Hendricks was indeed the boys father, and had done all the of damage dealt to his son. Then past out on Sydney's couch high on whatever she had in her apartment. It was let out later on that Trenton had been beaten and bruised that same night before his father left him for his death. The first thing Mrs. Malloy did was call the state to find out where the boy was placed. Her heart ached for him, that and he would be closer to his home if the family could adopt him. When they did, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy changed his name first. He was now to be called Atticus Crusoe Malloy from that day forward. But they also ended up with the court file and images of what had been done to their new son. Beaten, bruised, broken ribs. The obvious lines, now scars that traced his forearms. Now they knew more than the papers did. There were also injuries to his legs. All was healed now, and as much as they talked to the boy, he didn't seem to remember a thing. Just that they were his parents. Obviously one day he would have to be told his sad story, but it wouldn't be until he was much older.
Atticus grew up a loving, playful, and handsome young boy. Every day he achieves something new and proved that he was far from what his parents would thought he could turn out. They thought that eventually the memories would hit him, and he would act out. Truthfully, they prayed that he wouldn't end up troubled, but his age was much to young for the incident to have remembered it apparently. One thing was for sure though. Atticus was happy, his grades were good, and he was looking to turn out to be an amazing kid. Who would have known what would have become of him if he had stayed with his biological mother? He would have been an orphan, Mrs. Malloy read it in the paper when Atticus was seven. Drug overdose, it seemed to haunt her. If it ran in his blood, could he face the same trouble as he got older. It was hard to think that Atticus would turn to drugs, he was pleasant, polite and caring. Although as he aged, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy had a little bit of trouble with him. Sure, it wasn't much, but he had gotten into a couple of fights in high school over simple things. Most people asked about his scars on his arms, and obviously he could never explain them. Until one day, some kid got into his face, and laughed calling him a cutter. Which set Atti over the edge, it wasn't this easy to piss him off usually, but when it came to his scars he preferred when no one asked questions. Then came the smoking, and drinking. He partied sure, and his mother and father were not the first to realize that no matter what they did. If he wanted to do it, he was going to find a way. Atticus goofed around a lot but never really got into trouble. After his days in high school were over, he looked at himself strongly, realizing he looked like shit. Sure, he didn't stop the smoking and drinking. Who said a cigarette here and there would hurt someone? The drinking slowed down, almost to maybe one drink a week. Feeling way better about everything, taking his life a lot more seriously for his parents. Never realizing or knowing that the reason he had some issues giving everything up was because addiction ran in his family. His mother addicted to heroin, and his father an alcoholic. Although, sure in high school Atti had smoked weed, he never liked it and never went farther with drugs.
It wasn't until he was twenty-one, walking down the street to his place of work. A bar, he bartended some nights, other nights he played bouncer. It really depended on his mood, and his boss'. A newstand on his right caught his eye though. The front page story about how twenty years before one Sydney Parker found her son in her apartment's bathroom, two long cuts up each forearm. All Atticus could do was turn around and go home. Calling his boss on the way, explaining that he'd just be late. The first thing Atticus thought to do when he got to his family's home was to question someone. Anyone, he needed answers. His mother and father sat him down and had a long talk with him. He's eyes tearing up from all of the new information he was learning. He was adopted, his mother was a drug addict student, who had a relationship with a married teacher, and he was the result. His father showed him pictures of both of his parents, and Atticus just told them to put it away. He didn't want to see anymore. Normally he had an amazing relationship with his parents, one that most young adults could be jealous over, but tonight he could barely look at them. It wasn't their fault though, he was just thinking of the horrible things that his father had done to him. Looking down at his scars the whole time he spent walking to the bar.
Atticus is still pleasant though, don't ask him about his scars. You either won't get an answer or a fist to the jaw. He never liked questions and details very much, now he had his reason why. His subconscious hiding it away from him. Catch him on a good day, and you'll get the goofy Atti that everyone is happy to have around, and adores what he does. On a rough day, he's not very happy, but he won't throw his anger or sadness onto you. More times then he could think of he would cheer people up before he worried about his own sadness. Yes, everyone has their past, but the one that remains constant to Atticus is that family matters most, no matter what. It doesn't matter if you are blood related or not. His parents made him realize that the day they told him everything, and he realized that his life was so much better a Malloy, than whatever the hell his last name was previously.
JESSKA - EASTERN - QUENTIN HARPER
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