.I don't care. {Gay/Lesbian}

[ukagaka]

Bump)

[Doctor! Really...?]

Could I join??

[obiole]

||Of course! Wich do you want?||

[Doctor! Really...?]

- could I be one of the wild ones? -

[obiole]

||Yes, but it would have to be a girl, if that's ok?||

[Loѕт Boy]

Well, 'ello again! Would you reserve me one of the bad boys?

[obiole]

||Anything for a good friend!||

[Loѕт Boy]

. first . and . foremost .
Sup. My name is of course: Aiden Donatello Gatlin. I know it's a mouthful so you can just call me Aiden. It means 'little fire' in Irish dialect. I was named by my grandparents and not my real parents. My grandmother was Irish and my grandpa was Italian. To let you know, my parents did want to name me, but my grandparents were given the honor. I think my parents would name me something stupid, like Bobby or Bill. Eghk. I don't think I could live with a name like that. They aren't bad names, I just couldn't see myself being named that. Anyway, I am a male in case you can't see me and I am a very handsome eighteen year old. Prove it, you ask? Well I was born the fifth of October in 1995. Yep, I'm a Libra. Who really cares if I lie about my age? Why does it matter? Hm, well, guess I would lie to get into a bar. Wait! Forget I said that. Heh heh! Next subject! Well, I am grew up around an Irish family so I grew up sport a slight Irish accent. Sexy, huh? Yeah, I know you want me girls, but sadly, I am chasing after the boys. Sorry, but I am gay. Nothing will change that. There are situations I have that only a man's love can help me through. Sorry again, but we can be the best of friends.
. looking . to . the . past .
Oh, I didn't think you wanted to know. Where to start. Well, my parents were very young when they had me. My mom was twenty three. My dad was twenty five. They got married when they were seventeen and and nineteen. It's never a good idea to marry young and have a child. My first memories were of abuse and neglect by my parents because they were always to busy with work and bills to take care of me. One of my worst memories was when I was two years old. I was sitting on the carpet in the living, crying and in the dark. I was home alone. They had left me sitting there. My own mother, the one that you would think to never let her child cry, forgot me. For six hours I roamed in my empty house. I was starving and my crying wasn't loud enough for any of the neighbors to hear me. When my parents did come home, they ignored me. I cried at my mother's feet to pick me up, but she pushed me away. My dad smacked the back of my head every time I let out a cry. I was only two, for god sake! The only people that took care of me were my grandparents on my dads side. They fed me and changed me and played with me. Everything my parents never did. At least, when very they were down. See, my grandparents lived in Maine and we lived in Nevada. Going cross-country was hard for them so I only saw them once or twice a year, That was a year of torture. My terrible two's affected my life, not my parents. As I grew older, my life got worse. By age five, I was miserable. My teacher would ask why I have so many bruises on my legs and arms and I would tell her it was nothing. But it was something. My dad would beat be senseless every time I did one little thing wrong. If I spoke out of turn, I would get beat. If I didn't go to bed before eight 'o clock, I would get beat. If I came home with a a godd*amn 90 on a test, I would get beat and my mother would stand there watching! She did nothing to stop him! Not one f*cking thing! I would cry myself to sleep every night in terror that my father would come into my room and drag me out of bed. I- it was life in h*ll. So yeah. Years past and every day was the same. The beating, the crying, the neglect. It couldn't be worse. When I turned fifteen, I got into a group of people that made me rebellious. This didn't go over well with my dad. The abuse continued until the day I snapped. He hit me once and I stabbed him in the back with a steak knife. I put him in life threatening condition. I rebelled. It was the only thing I could do! Don't look at me like I am some kind of monster! You don't know what I went through my whole life! And you know who wasn't there for me? My own mother. She abandoned me! She didn't care about how I felt! She babyed my dad. Treated him as if he was her son and not me! I was arrested and I didn't care! It was more of an addiction to rebel against my family. I had forgotten about my grandparents and maybe three days after my fifth arrest for stealing, I found out they died in a house fire. This sent me into a tailspin. My police record sky rocketed. I am now eighteen, living on my own, gay, wanted by the police, a druggie, a smoker, and proud. I am the bad boy after all.
. family . means . nothing . now .
Phft. Family doesn't mean sh*t to me now. They abandoned me, so here I am, telling you about them. My mother who was never a mother is Mrs. Carrie O'Neil Gatlin. Last time I talked to her, we had I fight that I would rather not talk about. And my father *ss of a father is Mr. Cornelius Bravo Gatlin. God, I hate his guts. My only real family is my dog, Penny(This picture is one I own. This is my actual dog. Please don't take this picture.) a Jack Russell mix. She is my little baby. I do have a soft side!
. ink . and . piercings . are . what . hide . my . story .
God, there are many tattoos on my body. Mostly because they hide my scars and permanent bruises. Coating my arms and chest are these and on my back isthis.For my piercings, there are my two snake bites and black gauges. My gauges aren't that big, but I'm thinking stretching them further. Eh, I'm still thinking. I also have a tongue piercing.

. i . am the . king . and . this . is . my . kingdom .

Form © Me . Face Claim © Unknown . Character © Me . Face Picture © Owner . Dog Picture © Me

[obiole]

||Accepted!||

[Loѕт Boy]

Well zank ya! The history was a pain in the *ss to think of. Watching The Big Bang Theory doesn't help XD
Bumpeh..