Chapter One

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Childish and Suicidal are an odd combo, But then again, Blake is very odd. His whole life has just been one big game to him. Constantly being played, pushed around and ordered, But the one that bugged him the most, Never being able to defeat the boss; His own mind.

23 and working nights in a bar, Blake feels empty almost dead, It's like his sleepwalking through life. Blake has drank so much alcohol that it doesn't have an effect him anymore. He doesn't get the buzz nor does it numb his thoughts.

His girlfriend Bella doesn't help one bit. 'you need to grow the fuck up Blake! Stop acting like a  child and pay the bills' Bella had screamed one night when the power was shut off. She stomped her way down the stairs clutching a towel over her bare body. Her long wet hair had Shampoo residue. Blake stifled his laughter. Blake was meant to pay the bill last week but instead he laid idly on his bed, letting the bed consume him completely. It wasn't that he was lazy, it was that nothing motivated him anymore.

He often wondered how comfy a coffin would be, would it be as plush and welcoming as his kings sized bed? or would it feel like his lying on concrete with a thin blanket over it? Sadly Blake would never know the answer to that seeing as he would have to be dead to be put in a coffin. Maybe he could fake his death?

Blake will admit that Bella deserved better but Blake wasn't about to break up with her. He didn't have the energy for one of her famous hissy fits, At least not right now. He'd happily wait for her to dumb his sorry ass, But he's been beginning to think that she's never going to wake up and see how toxic their relationship really was.

Blake would often argue with Bella just to see her cry, she would always run back to him and apologize as if it was her fault, it never was. Maybe Blake was sick in the head, It is possible given his childhood was full of blood, darkness and yelling.

Okay maybe Blake is a sick man, but why should he apologize for the monster he has become? No one ever apologized for making him this way. Then again he can't put the blame on everyone around him, well not all the blame anyway. He was fucked since birth.

Sometimes when he was younger he'd take a beetle, tear off it's six legs one by one. He'd then leave the black beetle on its back, rocking in the sun. The sad thing was, a beetle can't beg for mercy a beetles not half the fun. It was pretty twisted for a nine year old boy.

All the other kids would be playing red-light green-light or shooting some marbles on the side- walk. Oh, But not Blake no! He was a troubled boy, forced to live in a dollhouse and wear a plastic smile, and luxurious clothing.

Some would say the 'Finches' were the perfect family. Mr. Finch owning his own car dealer ship, while Mrs. Finch was a kindergarten teacher. They would attend Church every Saturday, They'd always go to confession, Although people laughed at the idea of the 'Finches' having sins. Little did they know of the horrors hidden behind the cream-white door of the 'Finches' 2 story mansion at the end of the street.

Blake would make a game out of it all. He pretended that his Family and Him were dolls, living in a perfect Dollhouse. Every time they'd see someone they'd pose just like little plastic dolls, So perfect. If the neighbours caught them moving, then they'd be forced to serve their punishment. The more you mess up, the more server the punishment was.

Blake wasn't very good at this game. He was often caught resulting in a penalty. Like in Hockey, if you foul, the foul being against the family name, you are sent to the penalty box for a time out. Blake played that game of Hockey for most of his life, The punishments getting worse and worse, until he finally broke at the ripe age of 16.



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