Just want to note some things before I start;
*This is a long story, but not like the NES. It does end sooner, but is still a long story which I'll be working on bit by bit.
*If you have any comments, please comment here; http://www.bully-board.com/index.php?topic=13411.0
*Critique is welcome, but not flames. I'm not a genius story writer, I just enjoy it.
*Not being mean but I'd prefer to be the only one who writes the story.
*This is about Edgar's life up until present Edgar (the one in Bully).
*I know I said I wouldn't release it until I've finished but fuck I'm itching to post.
*Other than this, enjoy!------------------------------------------------
I was a mistake, though it wasn't obvious from day one. I felt loved, like I belonged, in the past. But I've learned that that doesn't matter. The past can't be altered. But the future can.
It was simple. Poppa would come home from work and Mom would serve Poppa's dinner before she left for work herself. When she did leave, Poppa would always let me have chips, soda, the works before bed (thought Mom said I musn't). That process repeated every day until the weekends. Weekends would be 'family days', where we'd spend the day together, whether it be out or in, it would be our day. But when it came to the crunch, everything changed, including our family. Just at five years old.
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"What do you mean lost your job? For god sakes, you really want to throw away our family fortune?" I heard Mom's muffled yells from my bedroom, which was next to theirs. I crept across the hall and watched through the crack of the door "Calm down, Dilys. It's not like we'll crumble to the ground. We'll just have to get a smaller house and cut down on the luxuries. We can still be a healthy happy family" said Poppa calmly. He put his hand on Mom's shoulder, only to be violently shrugged of and replaced with a harsh, loud slap which made me jump. "Do you want our family to become nit-bitten scumbags?" she screeched, oblivious to Poppa holding his hand on his burning cheek. "Now you are overreacting." Pop said, his voice raising with a stern tone.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak Mom cut him off "Do you even think we can cut down on anything? We need what we got!" she whined, but still angry with veins pulsating in her forehead. "Just because you couldn't live without your fucking Aquaberry and your perfumes. How much do you spend on your wardrobe? About a grand a trip. I spend all our money on our boy, who, if you haven't noticed, needs clothes more than either of us. So while you flitter your cash and cards on pathetic expensive things, here's poor soap Joe supporting our child. Not mine, or yours, ours. How could you be so selfish?" spat Poppa. Mom looked stunned, but said nothing as the vase exploded in sharp shards on Poppa's face.
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