Name: Alexander Apollo Newell
Birth Date: August 23 1992
Birth Place: Wickenburg, Arizona
Father: Ivan William Newell (Deceased)
Mother: Killeen Dania Dura-Newell (Deceased)
Foster Parents: John Walker, Amy Walker
Occupation: Waiter/Collage student
In Need of Psychotherapy. Has been seen cutting himself, some fear he will commit suicide.
The therapist looked from the paper in his hand to the young man a cross from him in the white Chaise longue. He wore plaid (red) skinny jeans, red shirt with a black tie, Geller Waffle Knit black hoodie, and a pair of Hi-Top Black/Red converse. From his papers the boy was 19 but he looked much younger because of his shaggy black hair making him look like a kid the just came in from dinner after playing outside the whole day.
"So why did you cut yourself?" gray eyes flicked toward the man sitting behind a desk before he returned his glare to the ceiling
"I didn't really want to cut myself but I needed to"
"Why did you fell like you need to cut yourself?"
"Relives stress…would you prefer me doing it to someone else?"
"I don't like you don't it at all. You're a smart young man with the world ahead of you; you shouldn't be doing these types of things"
"Please don't go there" the man sighed in defeat and decided to change the subject
"Fine, how's work?"
"Going there right after I pick up the twins"
"Step sidings, Victor and Vicky"
"Taking art classes"
"How's life at home?"
"…" the boy glared harder at the ceiling not once looking at the man
"Well you should get going then but want to keep you" Alex grunted in response as he made his way to the door
"Oh, and Alexander be careful there's been a lot of disappears lately"
Alex, he hated to be called Alexander, shuffled down the street not even bothering to look up as people passed him from the giggling high school girls to old people…he couldn't stand them. They took one look at him and dollar bill signs (sometimes hearts) would fly through the air just because he's rich. Well, not him but is dead parents were therefore making him the only living relative to inherit their money…but he didn't know how much it was. He used to ask his parent but they'll just say: Add Carlos Slim Helú, William Gates III ,and Warren Buffett times it by two you'll get what we make in a year…but we put half of it in a trust found, some in your collage found, then we take out how much we need, and the rest goes to charity!
His parents were very kind people so they had hospitals, orphans', and foundations named after them…so why did he have a job at small cafe? Simple in his parents will said he couldn't get the money until he was 21 but he didn't want to sound ungrateful or anything it's just his life was a living hell. His foster parents were evil…well John was evil and Amy just sat there. Alex was snapped out his thoughts when he was in front of a door.
"Damn that a short walk" He readied himself for what was to come. He slowly unlocked the door and stepped inside, he barley got the door closed before he was knocked into a wall from the force of a punch that was thrown at his temple.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Alex looked up from his spot on the wall to see a drunken John standing there with a have empty whiskey bottle in his hand. His brown hair sticking up in every angle, brown eyes darker because of the alcohol, and he smelled like he didn't bath in months. Alex caught his eye and quickly looked at the wooden floor
"Not going to answer?" Alex tried not to make a sound when John slammed him, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
"He was at therapy" Alex wiped the blood from his lip and looked pass John to see Amy's head poking out the basement door. Her red hair was dull and her green eyes had dark rings around them but Alex couldn't blame her, sleeping was dangerous when John was around
"Who told you to talk?" John turned toward his wife before stumbling his way down the hall to her. Alex wasted not time when John walked away from him, he ran up the stairs (taking two at a time) he got to the top Amy slammed the door in her husband face
"GET BACK OUT HERE YOU BITCH!" Alex couldn't help the small smile that fall on his lips, as Amy locked him out her room. He reached his rooms door (the attic) just as John started coming up the stairs. He quickly unlocked the door and locked it again soon he closed it.
"OPEN THIS DOOR!" John pounded on the door
"Try all you want…I got seven locks on this bitch you aren't getting in" Alex shivered as he made his way up the stairs, even if the attic was furnished and could easily house five people without them feeling crowded, it still got cold in the winter.
"LEXY!" Alex looked up in time to catch his little sister as she flung herself to him as his brother latched onto his leg. They both had black hair with heir mothers green eyes, Alex tired to figure out how an evil man could make children so sweet they could rot teeth.
"Oh! Brother what happened to you!" Vicky touched the light purple bruise that was forming on his cheek
"Did he hit you again?" Victor tugged on the on his pants
"It doesn't hurt" he lied it hurt like a bitch and with Vicky poking it didn't make it any better. "Okay get cleaned up so we can go to work" the twins did as they were told and quickly got ready to leave. Alex sighed and looked around the attic spotting a picture of his parents at hung on the wall.
"Ready!" Alex smiled at Vicky and Victor…they were the only people who didn't treat him like a piggybank.
Darkness: So what you all think…did I do good…well…bad??? TELL ME!!
Russia: Down girl
Darkness: Shut it!
Russia: Question, why does Amy live in the basement and Alex live in the attic with Vicky and Victor?
Darkness: I'll explain later…REVIEW WHORE!
Russia: You got the whore part right