I wouldn't say I was bad, hell, some people would call me nice. Well maybe.
I'm always looking to make an easy buck, and not afraid to step on anyone to get it. I guess you'd blame my parents, and I'd probably agree with you.
I was brought up on a ranch--as soon as I was able to talk they told me that I was an unwanted child. It wasn't until I was older that I really understood what they meant.
They treated me like staff, he'd give me a wage and she'd take it away telling me it was for room and board. As soon as I was old enough I ran away--to the city.
I spent years running, trying to put as many miles between me and the people I hated.
I'd settled in Kirkborough, a small town near to the Mexico border where the people were friendly. I'd got into a routine working for a living--in a coffee shop, although this time I was on a wage where I could afford a room and have some money left over.