Post by ace osbourne on Sept 8, 2012 2:36:42 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; -moz-border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px; padding: 10px; border: #000000 solid 0px; ] stuck in this daydream. [style=font-family: helvetica; font-size: 13px; letter-spacing: 6px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center;]PEPPER FULL NAME: ace dimitri osbourne ALIAS: ace DATE OF BIRTH: 17/8/88 AGE: 24 OCCUPATION: city worker SEXUALITY: heterosexual PLAY BY: marlon teixeira TOURIST [style=background-color: #5a667e; border: 10px solid #5a667e; font-family: georgia; letter-spacing: 10px; color: white; text-align: center;]all about me august 27th, 2012 [/style]"please, have a seat mr. osbourne." the man's eyes were nervous as he eyed the chair that the 'interviewer' nodded to. last time he'd sat in one like that, in a room like he was currently in with four walls, two chairs, a flat metal table, and a 'mirror' from which other people could view the room's residents, things hadn't exactly gone so well for him, but after a moment's hesitation he took a seat, leaning back to hopefully at least appear relaxed. "you understand, don't you, that i am here today to judge your mental and emotional state, and see if you pose any threat to the normal population upon your release, don't you?" the young man's eyes jerked to the interviewer's face, narrowed with frustration. "the normal population? implying i'm a freak of nature of some sort?" "do you understand?" it took a moment, but gradually the young man's eyes softened, his tense body posture relaxed, and he sagged back in the chair. "yeah. i got it." "good. now, why don't we start with your name?" "you said it just a moment ago." "your name, please." "wow, you really like your order, don't you? ace dimitri osbourne." "age?" "twenty-four as of ten days ago." "good. and you are in prison for..." "you want me to spell it out for you?" the urge to roll his eyes was overwhelming, but he couldn't screw up his chances here. he'd been reminded by guards far too many times than was necessary that this was a make or break meeting that would determine his future. he couldn't ruin it- he wouldn't be able to stand even another two months in the hell hole he had already spent so many years in. "...murder." "of...?" "look, you know the answer, i know you do, and if you've forgotten it's right there in my file in front of you," ace sighed, gesturing to the only thing on the table. "is this really necessary?" "answer the question, mr. osbourne." "...my father." he looked away from the interviewer, staring stubbornly at the 'mirror' as though it were reversed and he could look directly at anyone watching this meeting, specifically the guard who had brought him here and the psychologist he knew was studying him closely at the moment. "how long ago was this?" "seven years, three months, and ten days ago." the specific timeline rolled easily off of the twenty-four year old's lips, but again he refused to meet the interviewer's eyes. "and your release date should be when?" "seventeen days. unless you decide differently, of course." this time he looked to the other man's face, almost as though daring him to decide ace unfit for normal life, but the interviewer didn't notice and continued on as normal. "do you have any other family members?" "i did." "care to elaborate?" "not especially." "it's not optional, mr. osbourne." "fine. my parents weren't married when i was born, and when i was seven months old my mother ran out on us. my dad remarried a young widow, a single mother, when i was nine. she had a two year old son named zac who became my stepbrother, and died two years later of cancer. i don't have any aunts or uncles, you know what happened to my father, and you know what happened to zaccy- zac, too." the slip of tongue, falling back into an old familiar nickname that hadn't passed his lips in years, unnerved ace who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, again unable to meet the interviewer's gaze. "give me some details on your childhood, please." "seriously? what use would it be to you?" "you don't really need to know that, but it helps me evaluate you better by knowing the stability of your past. now, please, explain." there was a pause, the convict's fingers drumming on the metal table for a good twenty seconds before he caught himself and stopped, forcing his eyes back to the interviewer. "my childhood was fine. for most of it it was just my dad and i, which was great. he did well as a single parent... of one child. things were even better when marcie and zac joined us. marcie was great. she treated me like her own blood, basically became the mother i should have had. and zac was great, too." "what was your relationship with your step-brother?" for the first time there was a small smile on ace's lips as he thought of the kid. "i never liked the term step-brothers for us. he was always more my brother... seven years younger than me, yes, but we were close. very close. he was only four when his mother died, so i tried to step up to the challenge and give him the companion he missed in his mom." "i see you wanted to be a doctor." "yeah. i wanted to stop people like marcie from dying. they don't deserve it. school, sports, and family were my three priorities. i poured my heart into school work so that i would have good enough grades, and then... look what happened." his fingers began the drumming again, his eyes darting about the room. it was clear that he was uncomfortable talking about his past, that he would prefer it be kept hidden and forgotten, but unfortunately his past was what his entire present revolved around. "in your own words, please explain what happened." "what happened?" ace's eyes narrowed in confusion, fingers ceasing the drumming as he sat a bit straighter in his chair. "the murder, mr. osbourne. walk me through it. give me your reasoning why you should walk free. it is, after all, the whole reason we're here." "i-" there was silence for a moment, and then words spoken in an almost pathetically hopeful voice: "i've testified, i've recounted it numerous times through the years... can't you just look at my file? my opinion hasn't changed." "i'm afraid that's not how this works. i need to hear your thoughts from you." "fine. he deserved it." "your own father, who raised you as a single parent for most of your life, deserved to be bludgeoned with a baseball bat?" ace knew the man was just egging him on to hear every last detail out of him... he knew the story. he would have read it in the file, heard it on the news, perhaps even spoken to others about it, but he couldn't help the frustration that grew within himself. "yes. he did." "i don't understand your logic, mr. osbourne. as i said: explain." inwardly ace was seething. outwards he was trying to hold on to his control. he spoke in a tight voice, short sentences, trying to give the required answer without too much detail. "what he did to zac... he deserved what he got." "explain." he tried again, showing the stubbornness that his friends of a decade ago knew well. "it's in the file! i don't want to say it all all over again!" "unfortunately it does not matter what you want. if you desire your freedom you must cooperate. or would you rather return to prison for another seven years?" that knocked ace into silence again. "he abused him. emotional... physical..." his voice dropped to a far quieter tone, "sexual." "but not you?" "no. not me." "didn't you know?" "n-no! i didn't! not for a long time. i couldn't... i mean, i saw bruises, but zac told me he'd fallen off of the playground when he was out with friends, or that a baseball had hit him, or- or... i should have known. i never met these 'friends'. he practically cowered when my dad came in the room, though he tried to hide it, but i thought he was still adjusting from his mom's death, and that only having a male parent intimidated him." ace's heart was beating rapidly already, he kept shifting in his seat, unable to sit still. "but you found out." "the bruises became too obvious. once he snuck into my room in the middle of the night, crying, begging me to do nothing but hold him until morning... i heard cries late at night. saw him cringe when my dad lifted his hand only to reach across the table and grab salt... and a few months before, er, it happened i came home from school early. i usually stayed there late, studying because i really wanted to get the grades i needed to be a doctor. from outside, through the window, i saw my dad whack zac across the face, and then his whole body jerked like he was kicking him. i walked inside, to the living room, and zac was sitting on the couch nursing his arm. when i asked what had happened he told me he'd gotten into a fight with another kid, but i knew..." "what did you do?" "i confronted my dad that night. he apologized, said he needed help, swore that it would never happen again... he said he just got frustrated, he never knew how to relieve his stress, and it was unlucky zac that had come under the fire of his rage 'a few times'. a few times, not the hundreds that actually occured... just a few, he had said." "did you believe him?" "i wanted to. i really did. and for a month and a half i let myself believe he was changing, that things would be great, that he hadn't layed a hand on zac since..." "what happened that changed that?" "a power failure at school sent me home early. no one was home... at least, it seemed that way. but when i walked to my room i could hear sobbing from the bathroom. zac was curled up in the floor, bloody and beaten in ways that he would never be able to explain with a baseball of 'i got in a fight', though he tried. he was so terrified of my dad that he tried to protect the 'man'... but i coaxed him to tell me the truth as i got him cleaned up. everything. all of the abuse. i left him home and went to get help. i was stupid, i wanted to find a trusted teacher rather than the police because they were the first ones i thought of, and when i came home dad... dad had already been there." "what had happened?" ace's hands fisted into tight balls of rage on the table, constantly opening and closing as he tried to focus and keep unwanted images out of his head. "when i walked into the living room my dad was relaxing on the couch, sipping a beer, watching tv. zac was on the floor beside the coffee table... i couldn't even make out his face through all of the blood, and his legs and an arm, at least, were definitely broken. i guess dad hadn't liked that he'd told me what was going on..." silence fell again as ace tried to collect his thoughts. he hated this... why hadn't the guy just been able to look through the damned file?! "zac had a baseball bat by the door. 'proof' that he played ball with 'friends' and could therefore get hit by baseballs from time to time to explain bruises. i don't think it had ever hit anything before in it's life... before then. i remember wrapping my hand around the grip, but the next thing i remember i was standing in the middle of the living room, the bloody bat in my hand... dad was slumped against the couch, and it didn't take a coroner to know that he wouldn't ever wake up. the walls were streaked with blood... and then i heard zac moan through the pain he must have been in. i didn't have to think; i called 911. i tried to keep zac awake, told him that everything was going to be okay, that he would be okay, and before i knew it the police were putting handcuffs on me, accusing me of murdering my dad and hurting zac. he was taken one way, to the hospital, and i was taken the other, to the police station for questioning." "did zac testify for you at the trial?" ace visibly flinched, mouth opening to give an answer, closing, opening, and closing once more. his heart felt like it was pounding a mile a minute, as it did whenever he thought about these things. "...no." "why n-" "he died." ace cut off the man sharply. "while i, his big brother, was still being accused of beating him to the brink of death, he died in a hospital room completely alone. i didn't even get to attend his funeral. you should know that- it's in my file." "...i see. what happened with court, then?" "they realized i hadn't been involved in zac's injuries whatsoever, so when i went to court i was just charged with voluntary manslaughter of my father, tried as an adult. convicted, obviously, and seven years later, here we are." he was getting restless. "anything else?" "should you be released, where would you go?" "myrtle beach." ace responded instantly. "why?" "i know people who've lived there, and i can't very well return to my hometown. my father had friends... and those friends wouldn't take too kindly to me being around again. it's best if i get as much of a fresh start was i can." somewhere where no one knew his past... yes,, that would definitely be ideal. "do you have plans in the area yet?" "they'll be arranged should you grant me my freedom. i don't want to jump the gun, after all." truthfully he had no idea what arrangements he could make. at this point he was so desperate to get out into the real world that he would live on the streets for a year if he had to. still sitting, ace watched as the interviewer gathered the file and stood, walking around the table towards the door before he paused. "one more thing, mr. osbourne." "yes?" "are you sorry for what you've done? would you change it if you got the chance?" there was a long pause, almost a minute with ace's eyes fixed on a point on the wall across from him, his back turned to the interviewer. "no. as i said, he got what he deserved." "...i see. thank you for your time, mr. osbourne. you will be informed of our decision within a week." and with that the interviewer left, leaving ace alone in the interrogation room until the guards came to return him to his cell until september 7th when he walked out of the prison for the first time as a free man. |
[/center]
