Ok...so...here's my Johnny Depp playing a Crow chara's life story, from his own p.o.v. heh. his nickname/middle name's Bastion, just so you know. He felt like talking out about his life through me today. And who am I to deny a hottie a chance to talk? lol. Warning. Mature subject matter. If you're squeamish about child molestation, drugs, prostitution, or...well...you know, the low-life of the country, don't read this. you'll save me and you a bunch of pain and sorrow.

Mandatory Disclaimer: Ok...so I don't own the Crow (DAMNIT!) and I certainly don't own Johnny Depp (DOUBLE DAMNIT! DAMNIT TO HELL!) so don't sue my pants off. And this isn't a Johnny Depp fiction, so to speak. This is just a role I thought he'd be really good playing. I'd always thought he'd make a good Crow, and this is the Crow that sorta...came out of that idea. heh. e.e you'll find out more about his life later on. But now, it's just an unfinished background story. I'll finish it sooner or later, maybe. heh. e.e

By: Melassa G. (Fanatical Chick.)

I wish I could say that Áine had been my daughter, and not just my sister. I mean, emotionally, she was both. She loved me like a brother; played with me, enjoyed being around me, and as a father; she looked to me for guidance and protection. I was the only father she'd ever known and almost her mother as well. But biologically, legally, we were only siblings, and only half at that. I wish I'd been her real father, because I feel like I would have been able to give her so much more. A Hellova lot more than the man who fucked that whore who likes to call herself our mother. I often hear people say "The apple never falls far from the tree." But that infuriates me. Why did Áine and me have to be like our mother just because we were born from her? I tried my damnedest to teach Aine that she didn't have to live like that, that she could be better. I wanted to be better. From the first day of her life, even when I was 15, I swore to myself that she wasn't going to be another Hooker on the streets.

That's why I dropped out of school as soon as I was old enough to get a job. No one would take care of Aine while I was at school, and that meant she went with our mother, to the whore house, got shoved in some dark corner where she wouldn't be in the way while our mother got her drug money. I wouldn't let her be raised in that. I won't lie, I do love my mother, as every child does deep down, not matter who they are, but I also hate her. I don't know which I hate myself for; loving, or despising her.

Sometimes I wished it were back to the way it was before my dead-beat father left us. Sure, it was Hell back then, too, but at least we had the slightest resemblance of functionality. But I know I wouldn't let Aine live in that, either. I'd rather have killed her after she was born than have her know my father. Outwardly, we were the typical slum family; druggie parents who couldn't keep a job and didn't care how they looked, how clean the house was.

But after that, corruption wrecked anything that could have made us a family. My mother was the worst about the drugs and alcohol. I remember getting high off of Marijuana smoke she filled the house with. I didn't like it. Maybe I'm allergic to the stuff. All I know is, it made me sick as a dog. She didn't seem to care that her son spent his afternoons retching in the bathroom every day.

Or, for that matter, that her husband "made love" to his son more than to her. I suppose my father liked little kids with his drugs. Or maybe it was just a control thing. I don't know. And frankly, I don't care. He took my innocence from me when I was only six years old. I doubt anyone can know what it's like to be six years old and to have your childhood taken from you in such a horrible way unless you've been there before. Even after he'd gone, after I was grown, I would jump at the slightest sound in the night, afraid it was him, coming to...well...

All in all, I guess I'm lucky I'm so functional after what I've been through. I could have done a lot worse for myself than I have. And who knows; if Aine hadn't come along, I could have. It's amazing how feeling as though there's someone out there who depends on you can bring you from the edge of Hell, if only to make sure they were taken care of. Before she was born, I used to cut my arms just to numb the pain I was feeling inside. I've got scars that never healed because of how badly I'd hurt myself. It felt good. I felt like, if I hurt my outsides enough it would help me forget the pain inside of me. I used to bite my tongue, lips, and cheeks so hard I bled. I loved the taste of my own blood. It reminded me I was alive. I thought about killing myself lots of times. I toyed with the idea, cutting my stomach and chest, stabbing myself just deep enough to have an idea of how it felt to feel a knife stab in and take my life without actually causing too much damage.

No one else knew about it, of course. I imagine I would have been sent to some sort of nut-farm. I hid the scars from everyone with black, long-sleeved shirts, and I never wore shorts. I'm sure my teachers all suspected something, but it would be years after I'd stopped before I would actually tell anyone about it.

After Aine came, though, it was like I woke up. I knew I couldn't let myself die, because she needed someone to take care of her. So, when she was two and I was only 17, I dropped out of school. Which really bothered my teachers, I know. I was one of the few children from the slums who actually tried. I'd always loved school. And I think they saw a lot of promise in me. Yes, I was the kind that always sat in the back, never talked to anyone, and was always quiet, scaring the others and making them think I was going to bring some sort of weapon to school, but I had a love for learning. The way I looked at it, if I didn't get an education, I wouldn't be able to get out of the Hellhole that was my home. But, unfortunately, I was forced to leave and take care of my little sister. After she started kindergarten, I was able to get a job to actually buy food and supplies for us, because our mother certainly wasn't going to do that, and it took a bit of the load off, being able to know that she was taken care of while I was able to make ends meet, to an extent. We didn't see much of our Mother, and frankly, that was the way I liked it. The less me and her saw of each other, the better we got along. She knew I didn't like the way she lived, and she hated me for going so much against what she felt was her right to do as she pleased. She saw me, I think, as just one of those stuck-up middle classed people, as she thought of them, but as a necessary nuisance, because I was the one that bought the food and paid the bills around the house. Aine never really thought of her as a mother, I don't think. I think that's best.

Ok, so that's how far I've gotten so far. heh. Got any thoughts you'd like to give me? Go ahead. heh. I love constructive criticism...it's kinda weird the things my mind can come up with though, huh...? Poor Bastion. He's all messed up. heh. e.e