I don't own Code Lyoko
It may not have seemed like it, but I had issues. No, I have issues. I might have looked like an ordinary, stupid kid, with nothing special about me. But actually, my mind is complex and a little screwed up. I'm just a mess, plain and simple.
In high school I was always the weird one. The troublemaker. The burnout. I only had three or four friends my entire stay in high school. I was a loser. I didn't even apply myself.
I didn't care about school. I loved music. I only cared about rock n' roll. Blue October, Nirvana, Disturbed, I felt like those people were my true friends. Justin, Kurt, and David understood me. A lot of people looked down on me. They thought I was useless and a good for nothing. I started to think they were right.
When I got into college, I didn't stay there long, I dropped out after a year. I wanted to be in a rock band, I didn't pursue that dream either. I started smoking cigarettes when I was around 19. I'd smoked Pot too. But the drugs didn't help me either. I didn't give a crap about my so called "friends" I'd left behind. I knew they really didn't care about me. No one did.
I had a girlfriend my last year of high school. She was a raven-haired philosophy freak with a hard to follow family history. She was damaged just like me. I was attracted to her, though she had odd ways of showing her affection. She wasn't too romantic. She was apathetic, Like Kurt Kobain without the drug problem. This wasn't what drew me to her. I felt I could understand her. She was a little crazy and prone to panic attacks which left her ill for two days afterwards. We stuck by each other.
After high school she ran away. She didn't show up for about two years after she left. I tried to get in contact with my so-called friends after that. One had a baby, another was starting a life as a career man, and the other was apparently never heard from again. I was a bit content knowing the fates of my companions. And me? I was left brooding over my girl, with my cigarettes and rock CD's. I was turning apathetic, but I didn't want to die. She was apathetic, and she didn't want to die. Or did she?
I found her again one night. She was outside my apartment, wet with rain and crying. I took her in and calmed her down enough so she could speak. She didn't say why she left, so I just assumed she had a nervous breakdown. A few hours later, she was good enough to smack me for starting to look like Kurt Kobain. She hated Grunge. I just laughed. She laughed too, the first laugh I'd heard from her since we got together. After that I knew we'd both be alright.
We married early. I was 22 when my now-wife gave birth to our little girl. She named the baby Tatiana. The little baby was showered with attention from her mother and me. That somehow started me getting my friends back. They liked my kid and they gained a new respect for me. When Tatiana was a year old, my wife got pregnant again, but had a miscarriage into her 3rd month. The sadness left her in depression, and I was scared she'd hurt herself. She shoved me away for the longest time, locked in her mind. I thought I'd lost her again.
Something miraculous happened. We had a son just before Tatiana was two. The little brat looked just like me. I was happy. Our son was spoiled just as much as his sister. Little Nicky was attached to me from the start. He was a real Daddy's Boy. I tried to be the best dad possible for both my kids.
I'm 32 now. I'm still smoking, I still look like a Grunge freak and I'm still a rock junkie. I'll try not to die and leave my wife and kids. Then I'd be a crappy dad. A lot of stuff has happened to me in my life, but when I think about it I look at my kids, smile, and light another cigarette.