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Ricky was alone most of his life. Insecure and indecisive. He lived on the largest farm in his whole
county, one with the 'biggest' heart, but in his own opinion it was the farthest thing from big. More like dysfunctional
and abusive, or he'd like to think it that was that way. His parents, Jess and Riley fought every day, and had sex when
they weren't fighting. They hired people to take care of their things so that they didn't have to do anything and him
and his big sister, Deanna, were forced to do everything else. 
	It wasn't that it was abusive, but it was emotional neglect. His father didn't have a gay bone in his body and his
mother wasn't against it but disagreed with it on behalf of her husband. Ricky hated that- a sixteen year old boy with
no boner for a girl in a million miles living with a homophobic father and a crazy mother. Both of them weren't in their
right mind for raising children, so Ricky was raised by his sister. Deanna was a decent girl and an alright mother, but
she was more of a whore than anything. She'd had to many abortions for Ricky to name, and she was only eighteen.
	Ricky went to the most redneck school he could imagine, and it was even harder having a dark(Nearly a black
complexion.) complexion only made the harassment for the gay kid with a military fetish. He swore up and down that he
was straight, that he loved boobs and boo-tay but deep down it disgusted him. He just wanted to be a girl more than
anything in the world, to marry and have a tall and strong husband.. It was possible to do so, but what would his family
say? They'd push him around and put him down worse than they ever had. He may have had it bad, but Deanna was ruined by
their influences. She was the oopsie, she was born when their mother was only sixteen, and father nineteen. Deanna was
torn apart and burned over and over again but Ricky was always there. He was that glue, the weak glue, that held their
paper-shredded doll family together.
	His patience was wearing thin with it. He was tired of being so alone, and after a while of worsening abuse and some
pretty nasty things going on between Deanna and him, (Which won't be mentioned for the sake of your sanity) and he and
her had moved out. Not long after a taller, lankier male with light brunette hair walked through the front door with one
bag and tattoo's all up his arm. 
	Ricky never believed in love at first, heck, he didn't believe in love at all the way 'love' was portrayed in the
bloody portrait his family had painted. But something overcame him, something that he felt in his legs and made them
wobble a little and his heart melt and run down his ribs like hot molasis. He wouldn't admit it, but the first time he
laid eyes on this one he swore in the back of his mind he was in love. The way that the males hair fell perfectly in his
face and slightly covered one eyes and brushed gingerly along his neck with those unkempt split ends. He had tattoo's
all up and down his arms, not so filled out but just delicately sketched and beginning the process of a whole line of
body-art later to come he was sure. This mystery male wore a blue plaid flannel loosely and half-unbuttoned over a white
and dirty wife beater. Half of the flannel was tucked into some tighter blue jeans that flared ever so slightly around
his feet where he wore skater-style shoes but still was tight enough to accentuate the strong muscles from hard skating
up and down his legs. 
	He didn't know what about this male made him so love-struck but he felt like for once he'd been able to count at least
ten blessings in his short life. And for some reason he was led to believe that God had answered his long and drawn out
prayers for a sign that he was there. (Needless to say he begun to pray a hell of a lot more afterwords!)
	What Ricky found out about him in the time they lived together as room mates was as little as nothing, but he'd adapted
the name "Trinity". Mister Trinity smoked a lot, and drank a beer now and then and was generally a grade a-asshole to
him. Trinity sure did push him around, and would threaten him. If Ricky didn't clean up after him then he'd tell Deanna
and get him grounded, or he'd threaten to hit him. Ricky sure didn't want that, and even if he didn't threaten him Ricky
did obediantly what Trinity asked no matter what, why? Because this teenager was faithful to a future lover.. Or, at
least that's what he convinced himself to.
	The two shared a bed in one room with a dresser. The bed wasn't even a bed, it was a matress laid on the ground
surrounded by a crap ton of dirty clothes, a broken guitar, three crushed packs of cigarettes, a full hamper, a bunch of
homework papers Ricky never finished and some shoes without mates. Sort of like Ricky and Trinity. Neither slept around,
and neither ever had anyone over. During the day Trinity worked, and Ricky would either spend his day at school or he'd
dip and go hang out with Trinity and bag groceries to blend in.
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  ‹fℓєυя ∂є ℓιѕ› — Page created: 13 July 2011
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