Gordon Miller D9 FIN
Feb 4, 2020 20:24:14 GMT -5
Post by uwu on Feb 4, 2020 20:24:14 GMT -5
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Thoughts
"My Speech"
"Your Speech"
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Thoughts
"My Speech"
"Your Speech"
Other
"I'm gonna pay you $100 to fuck off."
I walk away from the interviewer, but their footsteps follow me.
"Get lost, man. I'm 18, which means I'm legally an adult. You can't do this without my consent. No matter how much you're going to beg me for it, I'm not giving it to you."
The wind blows through my short brown hair, giving me chills, as I continue away from this nuisance. Yet, even with all the hints, he persists. I swivel around on my back foot, towering over him.
"You want to know about my life so badly? Here you go: I'm a nobody! My family doesn't exist because they're all dead! Don't believe me? Check the graveyard, under 'Miller'! All died in a stupid accident a few years ago, and now I'm all on my own! NOW will you fuck off?"
He scribbled down everything I said before looking up like a puppy waiting for more treats.
"God fucking dammit, you needy little bastard." My jaw clenches as I look around. No soul can be seen, but something's going to make me regret this. "Follow me."
I take him to a back alley where no one else would be able to easily overhear us. I rub my face, ignoring my instinct to beat the living crap out of this... this child.
"So you're doing a stupid school project? I trust you not use my actual name in this. No one else can know about who I am. If I find out you leaked any of this, I will find you and I will... I will make sure that this is the last interview you'll ever hold. Got it?"
The boy nods his head furiously before I continue. "What do you want me to say??" He hands me a sheet of paper with what a census would ask. "What the hell is this? Boy, I already filled out one of these earlier this year. Why don't you ask me directly?" I toss the paper behind me.
"Anyways, My family's dead. Freak accident. Mom, dad, and brother. All dead. It happened a few years ago when my house fell apart. I don't know who they pissed off, but I'm lucky I decided to... to express myself on the back of a certain building through my art. We weren't special. I have a feeling one of the three had connections to a gang or something, but who the hell knows. Can't ask them now.
"We functioned like a normal family. Dad did dad things, mom did mom, things, and my brother and I fought a lot. You know, the usual. He was a weak suckup who wouldn't think for himself. He was too afraid to think about questioning authority, let alone defy them. Weak ass bitch. Don't get me wrong, I miss them to some degree, but at the same time I'm glad I don't feel bad for losing them. I never felt like I had a close enough connection to them anyway; never had a strong connection to anyone. Everyone disappoints you in the end, so why get close to them? Write that part down, kid. 'Don't get close to anyone.'" I pause and wait until he writes something down on his paper.
"Want to know what they look like? Imagine me: dark hai-- The kid gives me a weird stare. "Kid, just because I have no hair, on the top of my head, doesn't mean you can't see my clearly black beard. Don't give me that 'but you have no hair' look. Shut your mouth! I know you were thinking it! You fucking... Goddamn you..." I turn around and storm off. Maybe 100 meters later I feel bad and turn around only to find the kid on my heels.
"Shit, dude. Don't follow people so closely. On second thought, don't follow people. It's creepy." I push him a few more meters away. "From now on, don't get any closer than this. Anyways, Family, dark-haired, greenish, or blueish eyes? I think? Maybe hazel? Hell if I know. I didn't interact with them often, nor did I care enough to look at them in the eyes when talking to them.
"I went to school, did that gig for a few years until I gave up on it when I was 15. What's the point if it doesn't affect what type of job you get? It's not like you need a high school diploma in order to do the majority of jobs here anyways, and future education is non-existent. I don't need more than the basics. Why work harder when you don't have to work at all? I did have goals of owning a shop myself one day. I still do, but that requires common sense and good management, which are both not learned in school.
"With the influx of free time, I chose to... hone in on my art skills, focusing on spray paint. Did I get in trouble? Yes. Was it for justifiable reasons? No. Creativity shouldn't be a sin. Want to know which art is mine? Tough shit. I'm not gonna let you know. DOn't you think about ratting me out. If you do..." I move my finger across my neck.
"So you need me to say anything else? I'm an orphan with no family and a dream. I'm not going into any more details than that. What's this project for anyways?" The kid struggles to get anything out before he sprints away.
He doesn't get far before I tackle him, take his papers and recording device, and destroy all of it. "Whoever it is paid you to do this, tell them to deal with me in person next time, and tell them that if they try to do this again, the carrier won't be as lucky as you were."
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