You can't shut me out (Antisepticeye-Jacksepticeye Fanfiction)

The End

Ahhh...Jack. Sean. Friend. Best friend, even. You've been a real pal to me lately. *Chuckles* Ha, that's an understatement. And by your expression I can see you agree. You see, I know you're very confused on these past events. Why I even chose to possess you out of anybody, what connection we have with each other, who am I anyway? I'll answer all of it. Any and every gaping hole that you may question about. It's the least of the least I could do. Actually, we haven't even formally met. Well, we have, once, but I kinda spoiled that moment didn't I? My name is Dominic Giordano. Nice to meet ya Sean Mcloughlin. Here's my story. 

It all started in New York City, circa 1979. I'm just born and already my life sucks absolute ass. My father didn't care about me; he always claimed I was a mistake and rued the day he didn't pull out fast enough. Dad of the Year award right? He was always drunk and he hit me almost religiously. I took my beatings, because at a young age I always thought I deserved it. But I never stood it when he dared hit my sister. Lemme tell ya Jack, I may have acted heartless when I possessed you, but I swear I had a heart for the people I loved. I used to punch him out cold and get no repercussions for it, because he hurt my sister. I guess he had a little heart too. Now my mom, totally different story. She was an angel on the face of the Earth. How she got together with the most disgusting scum of the Earth I can never tell you, because I don't know myself. She would defend us against the real mistake in the family, and she usually took the runt of it the night before and woke us up with a smile on her face the next day. She never drank, well, maybe a glass of wine every night but that's not really considered drinking where I'm from. When I became of age, I told her we need to leave the monster she decided to marry. She agreed, and was toying around with the idea herself. Being completely Catholic, divorce was a sticky subject. But by the age of 12, we all moved in the middle of the night from New York City to Mantua, Italy. That's where the story really begins. Mantua is my heart, my real home because of what it's given me. But it's also my Hell. My real Hell, because it's where I met my end. Isn't that a paradox? Your Heaven and your Hell is the same place, or possession. Kind of like Purgatory? I dunno. Anyway, off subject. Mantua was gorgeous, and it still is. Old buildings that lit up the night sky and beautiful sparkling canals filled with romantic love boats rowing down the water with people walking on the bleached concrete bridges above them. An orange sun peaking above the clouds with an azure sky in day and stars as huge as my fist at night. It was magnificent. But, what really made Mantua, Italy so incredible, was because she was there. 

Moving to Mantua with two kids on the spot and parents that were too old to give you temporary lodging gave my mom more than a rough time. So at the young age of 12 going on 13, I decided to man up and find a job to help her. I landed on the streets and basically ran to find anyone who would hire me. I looked for newspaper stands looking for a paper boy, I looked for restaurants maybe hiring a bus boy, but no one was looking. I looked every day on new streets, sometimes at night and ran into weird characters. It was a little dangerous at night, but it was the 70's after all. Alley cats and Loan sharks were showing face, and they loved the smell of new blood. It was a whole three weeks before I found someone, and by then, we had ran out of money and we were picking out of trash cans. I ambled along the avenue, and I tripped over a whole pile of trash. I heard yelling inside, so I peered in through a crack in the door. "I tell ya to do one thing an ya don't listen to me?! This has been goin' on for weeks! Get outta here ya rat!" A man with a strong physique yet accompanied with a strained face and a black head of hair tossed out a tall lanky boy in a flannel and converse. The boy shoved the door open, pushing me along with the door into the dirt. The boy sneered and straddled his bike to ride down the street. "Ey kid? You know how to throw away garbage?" The man with the black hair (Which I also noticed was wearing a red polo shirt, a faded blue and white striped apron and slacks with black pointed shoes) was looking at me. I was startled that he was talking to me. "Uh..yeah! I know how!" I jumped up and dusted myself off. The man nodded. "Take all this garbage out to the back and throw it away and I'll give ya something." My eyes widened and I did what I was told. I picked up the garbage, and ran to the back of the restaurant.