I am not a lush. The one time I drank in excess I got a tattoo. I know I’ve mentioned it before but never told the story (at least not to my knowledge here). Me […]
My earliest childhood memory was when I was probably three or four. We lived in a small wooden cabin in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. It was around the holiday season there was snow everywhere on the ground – my mother couldn’t work because she couldn’t leave the house. The roads were so snow covered a state of emergency was issued – not that I knew what that meant then. But I knew my mother wouldn’t have been home otherwise.
I find it hard to believe that someone out there other than I know what happened. If you knew what happened to me, why didn’t you stop it?
My parents were never around for me. My mother left me to the Venatori at the tender age of 5 and I didn’t know who my father was until I was 18 years old. But here’s the horrid tale of my parentage.
My best friend has been my best friend for nearly as long as I’ve been with the Venatori. I met Jason Hill when I was 5 year old. He was one of my roommates after the orange door. (A special room for firestarters that was fire proof and had special censors.)
My first defining moment is the day I sparked. It was a scary day when I was a kid. It started out per usual. I was excited, my mom was coming home after having been out hunting monsters for a good bit.