VENTEN, ryan zen

[RYAN ZEN VENTEN]

RYAN ZEN VENTEN

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" NOW IT SEEMS I'M FADING, ALL MY DREAMS ARE NOT WORTH SAVING "[/font]
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FULL NAME: ryan zen venten
AGE: eighteen
MEMBER GROUP: fucked up kids
GRADE: twelve
BIRTH PLACE: orange county CA
RELIGION: athiest
SEXUALITY: heterosexual
PLAYBY:

ian somerhalder[/blockquote]

AND IF YOU SWEAR THAT

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" THERE'S NO TRUTH AND WHO CARES, WHY DO YOU SAY IT LIKE YOU'RE RIGHT? "[/font][/center]
HEY THERE, WHAT"S YOUR NAME?[/b][/size][/color]
"uh. my name's ryan venten, sup?"
WELL THAT'S PRETTY FUCKING AMAZING. HOW OLD ARE YOU? WHEN'S YOUR BIRTHDAY? DO YOU LIKE YOUR AGE? WHAT GRADE ARE YOU IN?[/b][/size][/color]
"well, i was born december 14, 1991, so that makes me eighteen. i, somehow, made it to twelfth, but don't know how. i guess i like my age, better than being an old wrinkled man."
AWESOME. SO WHAT ABOUT YOU? WHAT ARE YOU LIKE, YOU KNOW, AS A "PERSON"?[/b][/size][/color]
"haha. well, i'm not too great of a guy. i cheat, steal, smoke, drink, and am pretty much an all around dick. but that's my opinion, other people, for some reason, like me. don't ask me. honestly, i don't really like upsetting people, it just sort of happens, ya know? i say what's on my mind and if people don't like it, well they can suck it. if your not blunt then why bother talking to people, is what i think. i like getting what i want, but who honestly doesn't? "
SWEET. SO HOW DID YOU GET HERE? HOW FUCKED UP ARE YOU? TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PAST. GO.[/b][/color]
"alright then, i'll just start from the beginning. my father met my mother in elementary school. she was two years younger than him, and lets just say my dad was a eager little boy. they said it was love at first sight, but who really believes that crap anymore? so yeah, my dad fucked my mom when he was thirteen and she was eleven and BAM she got pregnant, silly little kids.
so our mom had us, even though her parents were practically threatening her to get an abortion, and here i am. she moved in with her aunt until my dad turned sixteen and got a job and an apartment. they, somehow, worked and stayed happily together with me and criyh being the screaming babies we were.
but, sadly, when i was nine my mom got some disease that the stupid doctors couldn't diagnose. one month later, she died and criyh and i were left with our father. he didn't know how to be a single dad, so he tried to support us, but he was in a band and continued to tour leaving us at friends houses. so as soon as criyh and i turned sixteen we were out of there. we left our dad, got an apartment with the money he gave us out of pity and we joined a gang to pay for our apartment. we were just too stubborn and proud to accept our father paying for our shit.
but, by joining the gang, all the shit came with it. we had to steal, threaten, fight, and kill what and who we were told. did i feel bad about it? no, i just saw it as a job. my conscience never got in the way, never really had much of one to begin with. nothing hardly ever affected me then, and still doesn't.
eventually, as most cases go, we were caught. at one of our jobs, we were supposed to lift a porsche at a senators house, it was criyh's job. the cops showed up because the alarm on the car flipped on and criyh was stuck in a car chase with the stupid pigs. but, as my brother and i are 'joined at the hip' i went to try to help him by distracting the cops. they eventually ran us off the road and crashed our vehicles so that we couldn't go. yes, we did try to run, but what good is that gonna do against almost a whole police force after us? nothing, exactly. so they caught us and during court our father forced his lawyer on us. he had connections here so instead of going to jail they put us here...what fun. we apparently had some 'underlying mental problems,' or so said the fucking shrink that they made us go to.
so here i am, still causing shit, still doing shit, and not gonna change. but really, who else in this place will?"
WANNA TELL US SOME LIKES?[/b][/size][/color]
"well lets see....most would say i am an alcoholic, so yes i like to drink. girls, but what sane guy wouldn't? sex...again, what sane guy wouldn't like fucking? i am addicted to speed, so i love fast cars. being in a gang for so long, you get used to a lot of people having your back, so i am a man who likes friends. party friends, drinking friends, best friends....all of it. being the nerdy guy i am, technology. i love my xBox 360 and know a computer like the back of my hand.
if you want to know anything else, just hang out with me 'cause that's all i can think of on the spot."
AND SOME DISLIKES?[/b][/size][/color]
"now THAT'S an easy one. i can't stand the cops. i do sleep around a lot, but i at least respect the girls i sleep with. guys who treat girls like shit piss me off, so watch your back if your one of them. i am a bit of a kid at heart, except scratch out the bit, so i hate eating vegetables, they just taste disgusting. mini vans annoy me, i've been known to go out of my way just to 'accidently' wreck them. and i do say, i really don't like little kids. the screaming, the crying, the immaturity....what fucked up person needs that in their life? "
I GUESS WE'RE DONE HERE. ANYTHING ELSE?[/b][/size][/color]
"um. bye?"

WHY ARE YOU SCARED TO

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" DREAM OF GOD WHEN IT'S SALVATION THAT YOU WANT? "[/font][/center]

NAME: remy
AGE: 17
EXPERIENCE: 5-6 years
TIME ZONE: eastern
OTHER CHARACTERS: none yet

The cigarette butt hit the ground, as smoke left the girl’s nose. Her eyes were distant, almost a lifeless shade of blue as her hand went to the pack of cigarettes between her legs. Almost instantly the other hand came back with the lighter. It took three times for a flame to appear… The lighter was loosing its fluid. It was a reaction because the girl had gone through three packs so far today, and the sun was still up. Her body was shaking due to the excessive amount of smoke that she had inhaled today. The cigarette found its way to her lips and she took a deep drag feeling the ever familiar rush she let it out slowly, savoring the burn.

Ah yes, the burn. It made her feel alive, better.. A reminder that her life was real.. That the knife wound in her leg was still there. The ever familiar aura of failure and patheticness that clung to her was still there, and was growing. Another drag, and another shock of reality. She sighed and ran her free hand through her hair, catching a piece and spinning it around her finger before breathing out another poof of smoke.

Cj adjusted her self on the bench, pulling her feet into her lap and setting her elbow down on her knee before leaning her hand on a upturn palm, and her other hand flicked the ashes into the grass beside the eighteen other cigarette butts. She was down to only one more in the pack, and the other one in her hand. Quietly the girl promised herself that this would be her last pack for the day… Well.. The last one that she would smoke all at once. Hopefully, she knew that this promise wouldn’t last long. Not at all.

That’s when she was finished with the cigarette in her hand. She let it hit the ground and she stomped it out and looked at the last one in the pack with sad eyes. Damn. She closed the pack and moved to a laying position on the bench. Her body was craving something more then nicotine.. It wanted its best friend.. Heroine. It was such a sick feeling to be with out it, she felt so lost, so alone. At lest when she was trying to quit she had her brother to help her through it, to fight the wanting, the needing of it. But no, now she was alone in the world, her brother died for her and now she had no one.

Her hands where shaking, badly, so she closed her eyes and sat her hands on her thin stomach and made them grasp each other to try and fight the shaking. She needed something, the three packs of cigarettes weren’t cutting it, and she wanted a release from this tension that her body was causing, this depression that her mind was putting her through. Just one sydenge… Four cc’s should do it.. It would do just fine to make her stop shaking, to make her feel in place once again….

But Cj had no heroine, and no money to buy it. Hell the money that she had taken to eat had been spent on those cigarettes. Speaking of food, her stomach growled, loudly. So loud it made her jump. She sighed and turned on her shoulder, letting her head rest on the armrest. Strangely the old bench was sort of comfortable for the young girl. It gave her a little more leg room then her little sports car. Well it wasn’t hers, it was Eric’s. But he was dead now, what did it matter? Oh great, that thought hit her head and she cursed, softly. Under her gentle voice. As if she needed another reminder that her brother was indeed dead… Ugh.

She closed her eyes and laid there, wishing for some sort of something, anything. To make her life easier to bear… Maybe not enjoy.. Just something to help her get through it. To deal with her mistakes, and bear with her life…

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[ELIZABETH]