My name isTrystan André D'Lucart
You calling me old?
I am Twenty-six. July 21st
Life ain't easy, kid. Wanna hear my story?
I grew up in the outskirts of Paris, France, along with my happy, beautiful - always singing - mother and my beloved younger brother. My father died when I was eight and my brother was four, so I don't remember much of him, but my mum always told me and my brother that he was a strong and good man. I've seen pictures; he seems pretty nice.
We lived in an apartment on the top floor of a six story building. It wasn't much and it wasn't very big, but it was enough for the three of us. For a while at least. We were never rich and never did we have much money. While I was in school and my brother at daycare, our mum had two jobs to get enough money to pay our rent and buy us - me and my brother - food. She didn't care much about herself as long as we were happy.
I went to school just as any other kid and I suppose I did good. I think. I liked school. When I was nine at least. I was the bossy one and everyone either looked up to me (literary as well, since I was very tall for my age at that time) or feared me. But the girls never really liked me. They thought I was scary and always ran to the teacher whenever I did something I wasn't supposed to do. Figures, since I did many crazy things; I tried to climb up to the roof when I was nine; brought road kill on to the school yard; tried to set fire on dry leaves ans sticks.
As I grew older - about ten or eleven - people started to question my over-all behaviour. People said I was...strange. Odd. Crazy. My classmates started to avoid me; my teachers tended to look my direction with a strange look on their face. Even my mother looked at me in a weird way! It started slowly but it turn a sharp turn and increased drastically - the voices; mumbling to myself; hysterically laughing for no particular reason. And the screams. Every night for weeks I woke up screaming my lungs out. Everything was like... I don't know really. I don't think I thought much about it. It was just...me.
One night after my mother came home from work she found me in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with a knife, stabbing a stuffed animal with a wicked grin on my face. And I laughed. This freaked her out totally and she ended up taking my brother to a neighbour and locked me in inside the kitchen. I remember that I could hear her cry in another room as she was on the phone with someone. I couldn't understand why she was crying or why she had locked me in.
A few days later she took me to a doctor. I remember that we had to fill in a sort of application or something and after that she and I had to go see this...woman. A doctor. We went together once a week. I was also put to talk to a male doctor as well for a few times. And after going to these..doctors, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Eleven years old. Great! I was put on light medication to make my hallucinations and break downs ease down.
After I was diagnosed, my mother had me change school and later put my brother there as well. Things seemed fine and I felt fine; life went on! My brother and I grew up together with he looking after me more than I looked after him. People were still kinda scared for me, or at least they showed me respect. I was still bossy and my height probably made me look scary (I'm 6'3''/195cm if you're wondering).
When I was seventeen I got my first tattoos on my wrists - red and blue flames. And about a year later I added even more tattoos over my neck, chest and almost my entire back. My schizophrenia became wore after I turned nineteen and had graduated school, even though I thought I never would. My head always hurt and there were voices whispering in my head all the time. So I turned to the drugs in belief that it would make it all go away. It did for a while, but it all lead to heavier stuff and me getting mad if I couldn't have any! I ended up being sent to a mental hospital for over a year and at the same time rehabilitation to get free from the drugs.
After those horrible 16 month on a mental institution I felt fine. I must've turned 21 when I was released. But anyway, things didn't go as expected; only a few months after my release I relapsed and started to listen to the voices in my head. That's where things went terribly wrong. I made myself a pair of 26cm metal knuckle claws and went on a killing spree through out Paris. The voices told me everything would stop if I did it! They told me it would stop!! I don't even know how many people I've killed over these past few years... Ten? Thirty? Seventy?! No matter how many, the voices just won't stop! I even drank and more or less bathed in their blood and ripped put their inner organs to ea- But they won't shut up!
Sorry... Got a little...carried away.
Since I left Paris I've been to a lot of places. Mostly France. But I left my home and my family to live by myself. Or is it ourself? I honestly don't know some times. I don't have multiple personalities, so I guess it should be "myself"...
Anyhow! After leaving my mother and brother behind, I ended up here at Trinity Castle at some point. Bloody and tired. I was stripped off my knuckle claws by three women as they welcomed me and told me to make myself at home. And I did. I kinda like it here, but I miss my family at times. The good thing about this place though is that the evil voices in my head has started to quiet down.
Wanna know more about me and my personal traits? Fine!
First of all - I'm not as scary as I might look. Seriously. Don't let my height creep you out. But when things in my head starts getting all messed up, you have the right to be scared. I guess I would be.
People have told me I'm a bit crazy - guess I should agree with them and which is mostly due to my schizophrenia. But also because I do weird things. I'm also very...outgoing and spontaneous and therefore rarely think of the consequences of my actions. And because of that some say I must be stupid or something, but I'm not as dumb as I look or give out to be. I am actually kinda smart even though I don't look like it.
But since I have this diagnose, I tend to...you know, talk. A lot. To myself. Sometimes more than just talk. And I often do as I am told. By the voices and the monsters I mean. I think they'll harm and kill me if I don't! And I don't want to die. Death's the only thing that frightens me.
I'm nothing more than a human but bet me show you what I can do!
- I'm a fairly good at climbing things like buildings.
- I'm a fast runner and can outrun almost anyone!
- I am also rather strong, but when my schizophrenia hits me hard I can take down even the one superior to me. Adrenaline!!
Other things you might want to know.
I stand at 6'3''/195cm and weigh in at 183lbs/83kgs. I love kittens and cats. I have four piercings in my left ear and five in my right. Apart from my red and blue flame tattoos on my wrists, I have a black chest piece that also covers my neck and the part underneath my chin. I also have a large piece in black that runs across my back down to my tail bone. My shoulders are also tattooed as well as a part of my upper arms. Have a look!
