On the day before the New year, January 30th 1996. Blaike Ivan Tanks was born to Sarah and Jackson Tanks. Not really, but that's what the ******* birth certificate says. That's what I ******* believed until I was 16 and my whole world came crashing down like the house of tin ******* cards it was.
Who am I? Who the **** am I? Hell, I don't even know yet. But they call me Blaike, and this is how my life started, ended and started again.
From the moment I can remember, I've always had a mother and a father. Were they old? Yeah. Did they dress me up and take me to church, make me go to Sunday school by bribing me with ice cream afterwards? Hell yes. But, they were mom and dad. My childhood was a good one, even with my mess of a sister constantly hating me. One of my first memories is of myself being about 5, I think. My sister and I were in the backyard and I ran up to her with one of my toy airplanes and asked her if she wanted to fly around the yard with me. She rolled her eyes at me, pushed her lips out and looked me directly in my small blue orbs and said “You know your mother should have gotten an abortion when she could have. You were a mistake of a child.” Being the five year old I was I laughed at her and said “But my mom is your mom.” I remember the way her forehead crumpled in on itself, the way her eyes lit up like the fires we had in the back yard sometimes. She reached out with her hand, grabbed my toy airplane and threw it to the ground like it was trash. She then proceeded to smash it into the dirt while yelling “You ruined everything, you worthless brat!” Mom ran out at about that time and pulled my sister into the house.
I remember this so well because, when I looked down at my air plane, broken into pieces and covered in cool green grass. The white panels distorted and painted brown with dirt. I felt a connection to it. Like I was that plane, broken in the backyard, never to be put back together again. It was a week after that event my parents sent my sister away to boarding school. They told me it was so she could have better schooling, but I always knew it was because they wanted to protect me from her. I should have probably thanked them for that when I got older. I never did though, maybe one day.
My childhood granted wasn't all horrible. Honestly, it was a pretty ******* great childhood, and I should some day write a letter to Sarah and Jackson and thank them for all the good they did for me. Even if I did end up owning up to my sisters words. Being a mistake of a child. Sarah and Jackson loved me to the end of this world and back. I'm pretty sure they would have moved mountains for me if they could. I got great grades, made honor roll, won a science fair. I was one of the up and coming sports stars. Life was pretty perfect in our big white house, our green grass lawn that had the remnants of an toy airplane somewhere in the back yard, with the white picket fence that kept everything bad outside.
Of course that fence only lasted until I was on the verge of my sixteenth birthday. It was Christmas day, We had just opened up presents and my parents had gotten me a bunch of things for the car I was going to be able to pick out on my sixteenth birthday. We were all sitting around the table, my sister, already drunk. Sarah had just placed down the Christmas ham. We joined hands for grace and Jackson asked my sister, I guess I should just say her ******* god damn name, Melissa. He asked stupid ******* Melissa to say grace, and that's when my whole world got turned upside down.
“We are here today, because you can not escape family on the holidays. Like your mom and dad, who raised the stupid little ****** that you gave birth to when you were 15. That same dumb brat that ruined your love life and then rubbed in your face the whole life that he was better than you. So happy ******* Christmas, Mary should have had an abortion just like I should have ******* had.” Melissa slurred out most of it. I looked up my hand's dropping from their hold on Sarah's hand, I looked between her and Jackson, It looked like their jaws had dislocated, they were hanging so far down, in about as much shock as I was. Melissa laughed, hiccuped then stood up with her wine in her hand. “ Yeah, that's right you ******* brat, I'm your damn mom, not these two, they tried to cover it all the fu-” For the first time in my whole life, I witness my mother raise her hand and smack Melissa across the face, sending her staggering backwards into the small table behind her, the candles on the table tipped over into the curtains on the window, her wine splashed over our white carpet. After that, the talk of me being Melissa's child was out the window because the curtains were on fire, and everyone was running around the house trying to put the fire.
I say everyone but I wasn't. I was sitting at the table, serving myself some ham, some mash potato's, stole my – Jackson's glass of whiskey. They were all running around the house, Sarah after Melissa, screaming. Jackson into the kitchen to get water to put the fire out. Me? I sat at that table, drinking whiskey and eating my god damn Christmas dinner.
That's pretty much how my life got turned upside down. That night our house burned down. Melissa went away, I'm guessing to jail but they never really told me. After that everything was different, Sarah and Jackson sat me down, told me how they had covered up the whole pregnancy. They didn't want to be kicked out of their ******* church. Church?! That's the reason they ******* lied to me, raised me to think I was their kid, let me call them mom and dad. I ******* went to mother son dances with Sarah for fucks sake! They told me lying was bad, that you shouldn't ******* lie, you should be an honest man. When the whole time I was living in a ******* house of god damn lies.
Needless to say after that I rebelled, I stopped going to school, I went form having a great GPA to being expelled from school from fighting. The last straw was when I stole Jackson's prized BMW and crashed it into the school. When they finally got me out of the car I blew a .9 and they threw me into the drunk tank. I was only 17 at the time, so they sent me off to Juvie.
It was there where I started my training, they had these 'Anger management' classes where they would bring in this fighting instructor and he would teach us Hapkido. This is where I fell in love with fighting. I mean don't get me wrong I'd been in a ton of ******* school fights, I once knocked a kids tooth out for singing Blondie at me. But I really fell in love with it here. It gave me a since of control, the way I could move my body, the execution of the different moves. It made me feel powerful in a place where I had no power.
After I turned 18, I got out of Juvie and went back to live with Sarah and Jackson. When I say live, I mean I slept there but was out of the house as much as I could. They thought I was volunteering at a local soup kitchen, you know going back to being the nice boy they had raised. Really, I was working at a local boxing ring. Competing in small fights when I could, learning the craft of fighting. Slowly I started rising, wining more and more fights. They called me The Natural. To be really ******* honest, I was the ******* natural. The moment I stepped into that god damn forsaken ring it was no longer me, Blaike fighting. It was someone else, something else. Soon, I was undefeated in Buffalo, I wanted to branch out. I moved out of Sarah and Jackson's house, using my winnings to get myself a small studio apartment.
I finally got myself a manager and started fighting in bigger arena's bigger names. Sure I got the **** knocked out of me, I lost a few fights, but I was winning more than I was loosing and that was what mattered the most. Long forgotten was the child that used to go to Sunday school. The boy who was a boy scout that earned all his badges in record time. This was the age of drinking, ******* anything or anyone that would open their legs for me, and fighting until all I could see was red or black. Eventually my manager had me traveling all over for fights. California, Washington, Hell even once Iowa. I was everywhere, and no where all at once. My body was in all these locations, doing all these things, but my mind, my mind was no where to be found.
That's probably how I met -her-. Or well at least the reason as to why this all happened to me.
This is the part where I tell you how the **** I turned into a god damn bad *** motherfucking night walking blood sucking, Vampire.
Who am I? Who the **** am I? Hell, I don't even know yet. But they call me Blaike, and this is how my life started, ended and started again.
From the moment I can remember, I've always had a mother and a father. Were they old? Yeah. Did they dress me up and take me to church, make me go to Sunday school by bribing me with ice cream afterwards? Hell yes. But, they were mom and dad. My childhood was a good one, even with my mess of a sister constantly hating me. One of my first memories is of myself being about 5, I think. My sister and I were in the backyard and I ran up to her with one of my toy airplanes and asked her if she wanted to fly around the yard with me. She rolled her eyes at me, pushed her lips out and looked me directly in my small blue orbs and said “You know your mother should have gotten an abortion when she could have. You were a mistake of a child.” Being the five year old I was I laughed at her and said “But my mom is your mom.” I remember the way her forehead crumpled in on itself, the way her eyes lit up like the fires we had in the back yard sometimes. She reached out with her hand, grabbed my toy airplane and threw it to the ground like it was trash. She then proceeded to smash it into the dirt while yelling “You ruined everything, you worthless brat!” Mom ran out at about that time and pulled my sister into the house.
I remember this so well because, when I looked down at my air plane, broken into pieces and covered in cool green grass. The white panels distorted and painted brown with dirt. I felt a connection to it. Like I was that plane, broken in the backyard, never to be put back together again. It was a week after that event my parents sent my sister away to boarding school. They told me it was so she could have better schooling, but I always knew it was because they wanted to protect me from her. I should have probably thanked them for that when I got older. I never did though, maybe one day.
My childhood granted wasn't all horrible. Honestly, it was a pretty ******* great childhood, and I should some day write a letter to Sarah and Jackson and thank them for all the good they did for me. Even if I did end up owning up to my sisters words. Being a mistake of a child. Sarah and Jackson loved me to the end of this world and back. I'm pretty sure they would have moved mountains for me if they could. I got great grades, made honor roll, won a science fair. I was one of the up and coming sports stars. Life was pretty perfect in our big white house, our green grass lawn that had the remnants of an toy airplane somewhere in the back yard, with the white picket fence that kept everything bad outside.
Of course that fence only lasted until I was on the verge of my sixteenth birthday. It was Christmas day, We had just opened up presents and my parents had gotten me a bunch of things for the car I was going to be able to pick out on my sixteenth birthday. We were all sitting around the table, my sister, already drunk. Sarah had just placed down the Christmas ham. We joined hands for grace and Jackson asked my sister, I guess I should just say her ******* god damn name, Melissa. He asked stupid ******* Melissa to say grace, and that's when my whole world got turned upside down.
“We are here today, because you can not escape family on the holidays. Like your mom and dad, who raised the stupid little ****** that you gave birth to when you were 15. That same dumb brat that ruined your love life and then rubbed in your face the whole life that he was better than you. So happy ******* Christmas, Mary should have had an abortion just like I should have ******* had.” Melissa slurred out most of it. I looked up my hand's dropping from their hold on Sarah's hand, I looked between her and Jackson, It looked like their jaws had dislocated, they were hanging so far down, in about as much shock as I was. Melissa laughed, hiccuped then stood up with her wine in her hand. “ Yeah, that's right you ******* brat, I'm your damn mom, not these two, they tried to cover it all the fu-” For the first time in my whole life, I witness my mother raise her hand and smack Melissa across the face, sending her staggering backwards into the small table behind her, the candles on the table tipped over into the curtains on the window, her wine splashed over our white carpet. After that, the talk of me being Melissa's child was out the window because the curtains were on fire, and everyone was running around the house trying to put the fire.
I say everyone but I wasn't. I was sitting at the table, serving myself some ham, some mash potato's, stole my – Jackson's glass of whiskey. They were all running around the house, Sarah after Melissa, screaming. Jackson into the kitchen to get water to put the fire out. Me? I sat at that table, drinking whiskey and eating my god damn Christmas dinner.
That's pretty much how my life got turned upside down. That night our house burned down. Melissa went away, I'm guessing to jail but they never really told me. After that everything was different, Sarah and Jackson sat me down, told me how they had covered up the whole pregnancy. They didn't want to be kicked out of their ******* church. Church?! That's the reason they ******* lied to me, raised me to think I was their kid, let me call them mom and dad. I ******* went to mother son dances with Sarah for fucks sake! They told me lying was bad, that you shouldn't ******* lie, you should be an honest man. When the whole time I was living in a ******* house of god damn lies.
Needless to say after that I rebelled, I stopped going to school, I went form having a great GPA to being expelled from school from fighting. The last straw was when I stole Jackson's prized BMW and crashed it into the school. When they finally got me out of the car I blew a .9 and they threw me into the drunk tank. I was only 17 at the time, so they sent me off to Juvie.
It was there where I started my training, they had these 'Anger management' classes where they would bring in this fighting instructor and he would teach us Hapkido. This is where I fell in love with fighting. I mean don't get me wrong I'd been in a ton of ******* school fights, I once knocked a kids tooth out for singing Blondie at me. But I really fell in love with it here. It gave me a since of control, the way I could move my body, the execution of the different moves. It made me feel powerful in a place where I had no power.
After I turned 18, I got out of Juvie and went back to live with Sarah and Jackson. When I say live, I mean I slept there but was out of the house as much as I could. They thought I was volunteering at a local soup kitchen, you know going back to being the nice boy they had raised. Really, I was working at a local boxing ring. Competing in small fights when I could, learning the craft of fighting. Slowly I started rising, wining more and more fights. They called me The Natural. To be really ******* honest, I was the ******* natural. The moment I stepped into that god damn forsaken ring it was no longer me, Blaike fighting. It was someone else, something else. Soon, I was undefeated in Buffalo, I wanted to branch out. I moved out of Sarah and Jackson's house, using my winnings to get myself a small studio apartment.
I finally got myself a manager and started fighting in bigger arena's bigger names. Sure I got the **** knocked out of me, I lost a few fights, but I was winning more than I was loosing and that was what mattered the most. Long forgotten was the child that used to go to Sunday school. The boy who was a boy scout that earned all his badges in record time. This was the age of drinking, ******* anything or anyone that would open their legs for me, and fighting until all I could see was red or black. Eventually my manager had me traveling all over for fights. California, Washington, Hell even once Iowa. I was everywhere, and no where all at once. My body was in all these locations, doing all these things, but my mind, my mind was no where to be found.
That's probably how I met -her-. Or well at least the reason as to why this all happened to me.
This is the part where I tell you how the **** I turned into a god damn bad *** motherfucking night walking blood sucking, Vampire.
