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If someone would decide and tell him that his tattoo on his left arm was showing, he would celebrate, jumping up and down. Atleast someone would talk to him, but for the last five years he has been in that sick prison he called, no one dares to talk to him but that old man in front of his cage. Is it because he does not talk to them first? Or because he is accused of murder?

He does not want to answer those questions as he is out now, both of his shoes are already out the gate where he was in custody for those good ol' five years, but is he free?

The answer is no, having been rejected for five times in a row for finding a job sucks when it all happened in one day, and yes, it is because he has a record of being a murderer.

He slumped on a wooden bench on one corner of a park to rest his now swollen feet, his tummy growled as the smell of an oily hotdog passed his way. He rammed his hands on his pocket and was dissapointed to see that there are only two dollars left, he still have to save something for his dinner later.

It is his second day of being-quote and quote-free bird, but it already feels like the whole world is falling down on his shoulder. He did applied for being a car mechanic, saying he had experiences before connecting with the job, but the petty gramp saw his face on the TV before as the well known murderer so he rejected him. Same goes as the other shops and stores that he applied for, "What will I do with my life?"

Crumpling the paper of resume on his hand, he almost erased his face as he grunts. He thought of removing his tattoos just to lessen the way how people would look at him, but he would rather save the money than to use them to that laser thing. It is not as affordable that anyone could think, well, for poor person like him.

His tattoos are fine, an angel wing on his left abdomen and a full on tattoo of randomness on the lower part of his left arm. It is art for him, but for other people, these are just dirty scribbles of demon in a human body.

He even have silver earrings on his earlobe, making him look more 'demonic', as the people around him says.

What is the murderous thing that he had been thinking about?

The case was considered as manslaughter, involuntary-ish to be specific, but the whole world around him still ignorantly accused him for being a murderer

Back then, he was working as a bounty hunter for the cops and bailsman around their town or even outside, if he is lucky. But, luck tried him when he was asked to track down a guy named, Romero, an assasin slash fixer. The detective assigned to the case paid him to seize that person for him to convict Romero as the suspect on a crime that he was handling.

One can say that that detective is desperate for a promotion, but he also wants to let an innocent suspect out and Romero is the answer.

Unfortunately, the two got on the highest point of a building and our prisoner here accidentally dropped him on the ground, killing the guy.

A lot of things happened that time; the detective got kicked out of his department because of this, the framed suspect was imprisoned for who knows how many year, and he was, well, imprisoned.

He asked himself once if he would like to get back on track of being a bounty hunter, but his brain just gave up. He needs to have a stable, non-murderous and safe job, he's not getting old.

Diego Castillo, 6'' feet.

A one by one photo of him standing in front of a white cloth, with an edited suit and tie, is beside his name in broad. His smile is as small as his hope and his eyes are as tired as his hands, holding on these printed papers. His hair is long, same goes as his beard.

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