My last Letter to You
Summary: This is my story. This is my life in its entirety. I wish to spare no details from my story as I sit here contemplating my next move. I hope my story will reach someone else and help them. Maybe they won't make the same mistakes as me. My name is Allen Walker and this is my story.
Chapter 1
Hello. This is a bit weird for me, but I want to tell someone of how I lived. I don't want to be just another forgotten life on this earth. This must be confusing for you. I can't tell you what happened to me just yet. I need to make this very clear. My name is Allen Walker and I am a broken doll. I write this in hope that the story of this broken doll will save someone or help someone else.
I guess I should start this now. Sigh, I'm sorry it's taking me a while to get to the story. I'm nervous about doing this. I hope you can forgive me.
I'll start with how I came to be. I was the child of a traveling clown and a trapeze acrobat. I know nothing about my birth parents.
My mother died giving birth to me and my dad disappeared soon after my birth. I presume it was the grief of losing a loved one. I was an orphan from the start. My birth parents didn't name me before I was put in the orphanage. I was put in an orphanage until I turned seven. Let me tell you this now. Those seven years were pure hell.
To say the least I hated the Matron in the orphanage. I was beaten daily, starved, and forced to do labor till my hands bled. You see I was born with a unique deformity. My left arm from birth was pitch black along with the nails. This deformity has always been a major player in my life. The matron thought my arm was created by the devil. She was one of those people. She would cut my arm then poor salt water to try and purge the evil from my arm.
I remember her face even now as I write to you. She was a tall women with a lanky figure and thin black hair that as always pulled into a tight bun. Her face was always set into a deep scowl that still haunts my dreams. She always wore a black robe that with her pale skin made her look like death itself.
The orphanage was just the start of the hardships I've been through, but I'm getting ahead of myself again.
The orphanage was also where I got my first nickname. Before I was "Allen Walker", I was "Red". I got the name after a painful session of "purging" my left arm turned a dark crimson color from the amount of blood soaking the black skin. The Matron never called me Red though. She only called me demon. That was all I was to her a demon sent to her to purge from the world. I sometimes wish she would've done it when she had the chance.
Despite all the pain and suffering I had deep in my heart at the orphanage, I was determined to prove them wrong. I wasn't a demon I was just another child like the rest of them, but that was a dream beyond my reach.
When I turned seven, the Matron kicked me out of the orphanage. I was forced onto the streets with only a thin shirt and shorts. I was able to find shelter in a circus after a week of struggling to find food on the streets.
The circus was interesting to say the least. It was there that I realized I was truly alone in this world. I had no family no friends and no future. It was also there that I met my adopted father.
He was… strange to say the least. He was clearly insane but he cared about me so I got use to his odd way of living. His name was Mana Walker. He was all I had for a long time. For now though I will end this chapter here.
R&R
