Jace Jackson~ My Life Before Cherry {One-Shot}

My life sucks, but not on the surface.

Written by- JCATtheEXORCIST
Edited by- BanthaBug
My name's Jace Jackson, my mother is a medicinal practitioner, and my father... my father...wait, they told me to write the truth, so I should be writing the truth... Here goes.

My name's Jace Jackson. My mother is a depressed drug addict, and my father is a repeat sex offender. I'm just the product of one of those offenses. They "took care" of me for five years. During those five years, they heavily abused me and my mom tried to commit suicide twice. She hated herself, and she hated me even more. My father was actually the one who tried to protect me.

Finally, my parents were ruled unfit to be my care-takers and I was put into foster care. Everyone thought it was a great thing to be in foster care, but it wasn't all that it was played up to be. Whenever I was introduced to a new class, they all usually crowded around me, asking how it was, wanting to know how great it was to be the way I am. I guess they envied me, but it didn't feel like it. They all looked at me with... disgust. That would be the best word.

I've learned how to deal with it, but everyone is always constantly hating on me. It's never dampened my mood, if that's what you think. I'm almost always chipper, and it's very rare for me to cry... but it worried me before. I didn't cry at my grandfather's funeral.

Anyways, after two years of going from foster home to foster home, one set of foster parents decided to adopt me, my parents now. They're more loving than any other parents I've had. My mother is a fashion designer, creating styles for new trends to come, and my father is an artist, working on a new masterpiece each week. They always said to follow what your heart desires, so I asked if I could dye my hair. They said yes, and we went shopping for hair dye soon after.

My parents didn't want to accidentally screw it up, so we went to the next door neighbors, they were both professional hair stylists. My parents asked if they could dye my hair, and told them they'd already bought the dye. The neighbors were ecstatic about being able to do my hair, and they did a great job. That's part of the reason I started dyeing my hair frequently.

Back to the whole foster care thing, the reason why I was moved around so much, is because one day, there came a kid. He would rile me and hit me, then I would black out. Whenever I woke up, I was in a new place, and one of the adults would tell me how I broke a few of the kid's limbs, and possibly killed them.

I tried to feel sad about it, but nothing could bring to me it, I've never been able to cry, until I met Doctor G., but that's a different story, and doesn't really actually have anything to do with him.

Anyways, one thing I always enjoyed doing, was learning fighting techniques, specifically, anything hand-to-hand combat wise. One year, I was learning something that nobody knew the name of, at least, no one knows the original name of it. Kind of like how some people can speak a language, without knowing the name of it.

I spent that entire year, learning from one of the masters of it. I myself eventually became a master, but, one thing it does, is that it adapts differently to different people. There are two main manifestations however, and one can appear before the person even knows the fighting style.

The first way, is that when somebody uses it, they'll seem to be angrier than normal, or the emotion that's on their face will look like it's the purest form of it. The second way, is that the person will absorb the energy/aura being emitted from the people, buildings, or even the earth, although they have to be in close proximity. When they take in too much, they'll black out, and go on a rampage against their tormentor. This is sounding familiar, right?

Why my life sucks? I don't really know. Apparently, life just wants to turn me into a giant fucking joke. My biological parents were the ones who pushed me to dyeing my hair, saying that red would inflict anger in others and in myself. Though my gut always told me it was so they could enjoy the illusion of a normal child.

It even pushed me to the point of not wanting a kid, but I still at least want to get married. I don't know what to marry, but it does have to be female. So with the computer my foster-parents gave me, I was able to look up what it was I would be called. I would be an asexual heteroromantic.

When I ever said that to people, there were a few that looked at me like I was speaking a different language, and those who knew what I was talking about. Some were accepting, others despised me. (His birth parents were the ones who pushed him to being asexual).

Otherwise, I have a normal, screwed up life. I'm not like anybody else, and nobody is like me. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery. I say it's the easiest excuse to bully somebody.

But hey, at least I have a sister with a fucked up life to. Why suffer alone?

I'm going now, so, see ya later in the next update of "Soulless" by BanthaBug.

Sorry that this is so short guys. Jace's life is really nonchalant, and normal. See you guys in the next update.