User:Ashengard

I think it's funny when you preach damnation.
I've been to hell and back and now it's just a part of me. 
I waged war in a fiery blaze, I found peace in a purple haze. 
My angels and my demons they don't know their place. 
Ready or not they're gonna come out, and play. 
                                                — In This Moment

Good for Nothing, Nothing of Good:

He was eight when he ran away from St. Genevieve’s Orphanage, eight and three months when Mr. Albuquerque gave him a job at his bodega doing stock work; eight and a half when the police eventually tracked him down and dumped Jacob back to the orphanage. Twelve when he got adopted, twelve and seven months when the family asked for their refund.

From then on a few more couples tried, they never got past the interview phase, Jacob wouldn’t let them; he was better off with what he knew and what he knew gave him freedom. He could endure Mrs. Westworth, her hands were going soft with age, he knew the routine of the convent well enough to sneak whenever he wanted – take a walk ‘round the city, workshop on getting some real chances at life, not vying for a rescue or a miracle that would never come.