During the summer of 2001, a baby boy was born. You could hear the cries echoing throughout the hospital wing he was born in. Unfortunately, his mother had died during labor due to complications. His father had died 2 months before in a car crash. He was an orphan right after he was born. Before his mother had died, she had named him. "Stacy Anna Mae" she weakly said. Before the doctors could comment about how much of a stupid fucking bitch she was to forget the babies gender, she died.
Stacy had grown up in the foster care system since birth. But, every foster parent had given him up for the same reason. He would act fucking crazy and do stupid shit until the family had enough and gave him up to the next one. And the next, and the next, and the next....
The last straw was when he had killed his foster families great grandma. "She was just an annoying, wrinkly old hag." He had said when he was questioned. His age was 9 at the time. Even his class mates thought he was absolutely mental. "He would throw chairs at the teacher, and then hide under the desks afterwards. It's not normal, he super fucking weird." One student had commented. His teacher is now going to multiple counseling sessions a week.
He was immediately thrown into a psych ward, and that's where he grew up. He was still his crazy self, nothing really changing. Well, not until one day...
