The sounds of rain tapped against an old, single-pane glass window with a street view. The room was silent, all expect for a young man, shirtless, staring out at the foggy streets of a place he once knew to call home. Anyone who knew him thought, "He looks really tired...", or the more common "He's so quiet and respectful..." constantly shrugging of avoidant responsible of those other than him to take notice... for anyone to see the horror that had become of this once inquisitive, happy-go-lucky, twenty-one year old, mixed Irish-Black American in some small town in the midwest.
Except, had you even looked closely enough, you could... them. The numberous scars that covered the palms of his hands, wrists, chest, and back. All of them... labeled within his mind as sins he had to pay for. For heaven couldn't have felt farther away, even after burying his Grandma, the heroine of his story, the one who taught him to smile brightly, no matter the pain, because that smile may be the only light that someone else's day has. The young man, rather, Grey was trapped in a violent duality. His Grandpa and Grandma taught him to be a gentleman, a helping hand when no one was looking. To be a lover who loved with his whole heart, unconditionally. To be just like them, but they'd never take that, as they were humble, getting up there in age, and had witnessed first hand the horrors of this duality.
Grey had enlisted in the US Army straight out of high school. He'd survived being the "popular loner", knowing almost everyone, but choosing only a handful to interact with daily. However, after an injury that left him with nerve damage in his right pinky-ring-middle fingers, his right hand, wrist, and forearm, only two words rang in his ears as if he'd fired his rifle without ear protection... "You... Quit." This was that "Violent Duality" that was mentioned before. For you see, Grey was raised to be a leader, a friend, and a helping hand by his Grandma and Grandpa... but they weren't his guardians. No, no, Grey had been adopted at birth, with a sister (from anoter family) adopted almost two years later, by the son of Grey's Grandparents, a US Marine that solved problems behind closed doors, and an embassy worker he'd met while on tour in Karachi, Pakistan, who would later immigrant to Canada with her family, then to the US with her Marine Husband, having fled radical religious militants.
Things were fine, at least for the first twelve years of Grey's life, but on after those twelve... it was a waking nightmare. The Wife, having survived years of trauma, years of persecution, finally showed her colors, her very narcissistic, manipulative colors... with Grey as her only target. Her Marine Husband acted as her blade of discipline, not with spankings or a belt to the ass, no, with hot hands round Grey's neck, CIA levels of personal-relationship disruption. Grey would be told "you deserve to be cheated on..." and "man up, men don't cry...", followed sometime later by, "You are the reason our marriage is stressed...", with the arguments finally ending with, "You are a disgrace to our family..." or the less common "Ungrateful, pathetic, emotional little Grey. Oh so put-upon, aren't you?"
Grey repressed his anger, only relieving it by "escaping". He'd have no chocie but to channel through video games, hoping to find peace. However, his Grandma's funeral had brought up words of villain from one such game; "You exist, because we allow it. And you will end because we demand it." That was half of the story of his own life. He existed, because two people adopted him... and he would end, because in their eyes and from their own words, he was a pathetic failure, a blemish on their family's name...