[Azrael] Pre-Awakening Background Fragment
I was born in New Orleans, LA, in 1980. My parents divorced when I was three. My mother moved to Los Angeles, her hometown, while my father stayed in New Orleans. By virtue of having more money, my father got custody of me and I grew up in Louisiana. I always spent my summers in Los Angeles, though. From Flag Day to Labor Day, I lived with my mother. In LA, my best friend was Donna, who'd earned that honor by virtue of being the daughter of one of my mother's neighbors and the only other kid my age on the block. In New Orleans, my two best friends from school were Jordan and Izzy. All three I'd known all my life and I couldn't tell you which I preferred any more than I could tell you which city or which parent I liked better.
Jordan died from pneumonia in February of 1994. That summer, I lost my virginity to Donna. In 1996, Izzy died in a gang fight. By 1998, Donna had become anorexic and starved herself to death. I know now that they died because of me. I don't say that out of guilt, it's just a fact. It had to be that way.
Autumn of 1998, I went to college in New York. I never declared a major and my classes were a mish-mash of random garbage. Of course, I barely went to classes anyway. College was a sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll cliché for me and I jumped in with both feet. I tried every drug, I slept with anything that moved, and successfully snuck into anyplace that served alcohol.
All of this, of course, is the stuff that doesn't matter.
What's important is the day that I died. That morning, I was having breakfast at Windows on the World when it happened. The breakfast crowd was in full swing and I was still awake from the night before trying to sober up. I had, in fact, been there all night with the assistant manager who was getting back at his boss for scheduling him to close and open in the next morning. His version of revenge was having sex with me all over the kitchen, the bar, and as many tables as we could manage. And free breakfast.
Jordan died from pneumonia in February of 1994. That summer, I lost my virginity to Donna. In 1996, Izzy died in a gang fight. By 1998, Donna had become anorexic and starved herself to death. I know now that they died because of me. I don't say that out of guilt, it's just a fact. It had to be that way.
Autumn of 1998, I went to college in New York. I never declared a major and my classes were a mish-mash of random garbage. Of course, I barely went to classes anyway. College was a sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll cliché for me and I jumped in with both feet. I tried every drug, I slept with anything that moved, and successfully snuck into anyplace that served alcohol.
All of this, of course, is the stuff that doesn't matter.
What's important is the day that I died. That morning, I was having breakfast at Windows on the World when it happened. The breakfast crowd was in full swing and I was still awake from the night before trying to sober up. I had, in fact, been there all night with the assistant manager who was getting back at his boss for scheduling him to close and open in the next morning. His version of revenge was having sex with me all over the kitchen, the bar, and as many tables as we could manage. And free breakfast.