If you're reading this I recommend reading at least one episode of the SCIT series first
This is a sorta prequel to that covering the backstory of my character, Foster Lewis.
It was raining. Happens everyday in England. Real cheery here. The thick drizzle spattered the tarmac of the schoolyard and plastered my dark hair to my forehead. My cheap uniform was soaked through, my white shirt flecked with mud and grime, my trouser knees torn and bloodied. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my clenched fists as I stood backed against the wall of a shabby pre-fab building. I glared defiantly at the three swollen brutes before me. The middle one spoke.
"Come on then orphan boy! What ya gonna do? Cry to your fuckin' dead mummy?" His flabby cheeks wobbled as he chuckled to his greasy, skin-headed friends.
"That's why they called you Foster innit? Cuz from the moment you were born they just wanted to fuckin' kill themselves! Bet your parents hated you so fuckin' much they topped themselves didn't they? Am I right Foster boy? Eh? Your parents were fuckin' nutjobs eh?" He laughed some more with his mates. The three of them. Disgusting.
"At least I wasn't a fuckin' accident." My dark eyes narrowed. Keep it cool, revenge is best served cold they say. "Your father has spent all his life bouncing between parole, the dealers and the toilet bowl end of the slammer. Probably met your mother one night in an alley pissed off his face and half conscious from all the smack. Gotta be why you're so fuckin' ugly. Your father mistook that bitch for human." I let the corner of my lip curl in satisfaction. I had enough brain cells to rub out a decent insult. These guys couldn't count the chairs in a three seater hatchback.
"What you fuckin' saying 'bout my dad?" The big man bristled and moved forward. His bulk loomed a few inches over me. We were both seventeen but he was wider and taller. His was the natural advantage. That and he had backup. This could get nasty.
"I said, mate, your dad had to have fucked either an animal or some really ugly whore to have you as a son. Shame your mother upped and left the moment you were old enough to drink your own snot, I'm sure you woulda gotten on real well together. Like two fat, ugly pigs in a pen."
"You shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up or I'll..."
"You'll fuckin' what? Get your no-hoper convict of a dad on me?"
He swung at me. His fat fist smacked into my face, I felt the impact shoot straight through my left cheekbone. Then we kicked off big time. I swung back, my punch faster and less fat padded. My knuckles cracked against his jaw and he staggered backwards. His two cronies joined the fray. It was a fuckin' mess of brawling and slugging. Like fighting two Neanderthals in a mud pit. I wore some rib shaking body blows before I crunched one guy's balls with my knee and nutted the other one so his nose ended up splattered across my forehead. The big bully hard man came back at me. I was faster than him. I just punched the shit out of his fat, repulsive face. Then I tackled him to the ground and did it some more. He looked like a fuckin' pepperoni pizza by the end of it, all red blotches and raw meat. When I was done I pinned his throat and glared into his eyes.
"My mother died of cancer when I was ten. My father was killed on active service in the middle east when I was twelve. Both my parents were honest people, good people, and they loved me. Which is more than I can say for your parents." I spat in what was left of his face. "But you can say what you like about my parents, mate. Their memory isn't something that can be tainted by the likes of you. So why don't you just stay here and rot in the back streets of this city. Keep boasting about your father. Maybe you'll join him in the clink one day, then you can both be dead-end futureless scabs together. I've got better things for me. I'm getting out of this life. So say what you want. Think what you want. My place isn't here. I'm gone."
I got up, wiped the blood from my forehead, ripped off my school tie and walked off. This was the day Foster Lewis left school. This was the day I joined the armed forces.