Brandon

I was never an ordinary child. On the day of my birth I had clawed my way through my mother's wombinto human world. Shortly after my father had passed away in a small fire, that was allegedy caused by me. On my 5th birthday I was adopted by a business man from Adak, Alaska and lived there until the tragic death of him and his wife. Before he departed he gave me a black kitten, larger then most, but I was too young to realize that. By the time I was twelve, the jaguar named Weenie, was fully grown, and trained in the most vile ways of dismembering a human while keeping them alive for as long as physically possible. It was when I was thirteen that I had my first real encounter with a bully, and he had his last encounter with a pissed of orphan. Of course the police were able to easily recogize that the boy had been mauled by a jungle cat of sorts. I was forced to run away from my foster home, traveling most of the continental United States by foot with my pet jaguar after hitching a ride on a fishing boat to California. It took me three years to make it to Maine because of having to avoid interaction with the law. On my 16th year I had found out that one of the girls I had 'enjoyed' had become pregnant, and I could do nothing to help her in my current state. Two years later, a drunken night of passion would place me in the same position with a different lady. And just over a year later I was placed in a similar position with an annoying girl I could not stand. My life has a been a sequenceof shady deals, silencing those who would turn me in, and hunting those I wish to illiminate for sheer sport. The last few years of my life have been tougher then I would have imagined, but I will forge my way through it, or carve my name into the skin of all my enemies.