Havoc-Prologe

Havoc-Prologe

Ripped jeans, Chains around my neck and wrists, My own personal bondage. Black combat boots that make me appear two inches taller than I really am. Lets not forget the vintage band T-shirt that I got off a street vendor for ten bucks. Yeah, this was me. A teenager with no where to go and a wardrobe that would scare off anyone who knew better. I was one of those people who were often over looked in society or stared at when walking down the street. Any onlookers were given a glare that made them cringe and think twice about looking back. If this didn't work, I gave them a snarl that sent them hauling. My uncle whom i've lived with since I was a child told me that I should be more friendly to people. But I believe otherwise, Making friends was a waste of time. I had tried to do this before but of course it didn't work out. The neighborhood kids teased me for being "different", Back then I couldn't control my temper and I needed up punching a kid in the nose for calling me "wierd". I remember my uncle having a hard time prying me off a kid who I had sunk my teeth into. For this I was given the name Havoc.