Hi! I'm sorry I haven't updated They Never Said It Was Easy, but I've been through some pretty tough shit lately. Some things happened and bada-bing, bada-boom, I'm in a foster home. My new friends have been supporting me, and have inspired me to keep writing. It still might take awhile, as I'm scheduled to move again soon. But I hope you enjoy my version of what happened before Connie joined the Freelancers!
*I do not own Red vs. Blue. Rooster Teeth does all that*
I guess you can say I had a pretty normal childhood. Pretty mom, nice dad, annoying little brother. We lived on the wide open prairies of Oklahoma. Maybe that's why I've never been one for following the rules.
My search for truth all started when Cody, my little brother, lied about wrecking my bike. I literally asked the entire neighborhood for clues, and put together what really happened. (Turns out he crashed it after failing some BMX trick.) One little thing that pretty much mapped out my entire life. I was 8 years old.
Seriously, though, from then on, I was always looking out, noticing the smallest detail, the tiniest gesture. The only problem was that I had no idea what to do with all that information.
It'd slip out, things I couldn't possibly know, during conversations. People would always be wide-eyed, and walk away in shock. It started to drive everyone away. Parents would avert their children's eyes, the other kids could hardly stand being in the same room as me, as if I could know everything about them just by being in the same room.
I'd finally had enough one day. That morning, I'd just stood in front of the school, pondering the pros and cons, before deciding it just wasn't worth it anymore. I left, with whatever was in my backpack and the clothes on my back, and hitch-hiked to metropolitan Chicago. I was 12 years old.
There, I became an informant. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and some of the most terrifying years of my life. I learned a few things the hard way, and barely got by my first year there with my quick thinking. Luckily, I quickly made a name for myself and managed to get some higher pay jobs. Soon, I was at the top of my game, but I wasn't happy. Most of the people I worked for were thugs and criminals, and the only reason I did those jobs was to keep myself afloat. I wanted to be the good guy, the hero, for once! That's when I met the Insurrectionist Leader. I was 16 years old.
He was business-like at first, coming up to me one day at my "office"(Which was really an abandoned vehicle). He offered me something I couldn't turn down, the chance to be on the good side for once. He said he wanted to expose a terrible organization for the crimes that it had done, and he wanted me on the inside.
I gratefully accepted, happy to be doing anything than living in a dump working for people I despise. Of course, though, there was some training, as I couldn't really fight. Those were the best years of my life. That's when the Leader, known only to me as John, and I got close, and eventually we fell in love. But good things, it seems, always end for me.
The day I left was probably the saddest one of my life. I had made friends, good friends, in the Insurrection, and of course there was John. However, I couldn't forget what I was really there for.
The organization I was supposed to infiltrate was known as Project Freelancer. It was comprised of 51 agents, named for the states of America. I was picked up by Carolina, one of the agents and daughter of the Director of the Freelancers himself, on a side street in Chicago. And that's where my real story begins, as Agent Connecticut.
Sorry it's so short! It was a project for my Reading teacher, and knowing that me and my friends would go all out on it, (The project was literally to write a FanFiction!) he set a limit to 2 pages, which is really short on Microsoft Word© and even shorter on FanFiction. So, sorry again.
