Sit down, child. It is time for me to tell you the tragic and melancholic story of my childhood.
My story starts before I was born. My father was a priest named John, which means "God Is Gracious," despite him being anything but. At the age of 26, he begot me with a 14 year old prostitute from Japan named only "Black Kiko". Her true name, to this day, is a mystery to our entire family.
I know nothing of my life before 6, as I was but a wee lad living a normal life, but at the age of 7, everything changed.
My father, now a womanizing alcoholic, decided to kill my mother. Why? Well, he was a priest, as you know, and for a priest to be the husband of a 14 year old Japanese prostitute would be a rather
interesting career choice. So, my mentally-unstable father and I lived together for but a couple weeks before he started the chain of events that changed my life.
It was May 26th, I remember it like it was but a day ago. He came up to me, his large, bulbous nose jiggling as he heartily