(Continued from Punishment)
Monty strolled down the streets of a St. Paul suburb with his hands in his coat pocket. The neighbourhood was quiet. It was still early in the afternoon, so most of the inhabitants were at school or work. Even the pets of the neighbourhood seemed to have run off. There was hardly a soul in sight
Monty had no regrets about what he'd done. In his eyes, all of it was necessary. Anybody who was dense enough to pick a fight with him deserved whatever they got.
Yelizetta would have never gotten hit if not for Alice Blake. She would have been insulted and picked on, but she still wouldn't have been hit. But Alice Blake had to push Monty. She just had to insult and degrade him. Monty couldn't have been expect to just take that lying down.
Besides, Yelizetta was a Survival of the Fittest fan. Anybody depraved enough to watch people butcher each other deserved a nice hard smack.
Victoria Logan deserved exactly what she'd gotten. She had picked the fight with Monty. She laid the first hit. Monty's act with the cigarette had been retribution. Plain and simple.
Monty had never been the type to back down. There was no punishment that could`ve been worse than letting them get away with their offences against him. He would rather spend the rest of his life in prison than let those bastards get the better of him.
Nowhere To Go
Nowhere To Go
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler R-S-Lee. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Soon enough, Monty arrived at his home. It was a small place. Consisting only two bedrooms, a washroom, and a kitchen, the place was just barely big enough to house its two residents.
After all, his mother didn't have very much money. She was a waitress for god's sake. And, she only really worked their part time. After all, Monty was too much of a handful to be left alone for too long.
Monty opened the door to his tiny home and stepped inside off his kitchen. The place was small and filled with cheap furniture. He strolled over to a noticeably old fridge with a door was barely able to stay on.
Opening it, Monty searched within for a snack. Since it'd been a while since Monty's mother had gotten a chance to grocery shop, it was pretty bare. But he still managed to find an apple for himself.
He took a bite and slammed the door closed. Glancing at the phone, Monty noticed a blinking red light. Somebody had left a message. As he took a second bite of his snack, Monty strolled up to the machine and dialled the answering machine.
"Monty, I got the call from Mr. Kendrick. And well..."
The voice was that of Monty's mother, Debbi Shore. She took a pause. It was if she was trying to find something to say to Monty and failing. She just didn't know how to tell Monty how disappointed she was.
"Look. Dr. Manning called. She wants to see you tonight. Her office is closed today. She wants to see you at the D'Amico & Sons in the Prominade. Please head over there when you get this message."
And with that Debbi hung up, and Monty sighed. Dr. Chloe Manning was Monty's therapist. One of the terms of Monty's probation and move to St. Paul was that he'd have to go see her once a week. And, since Monty had just earned himself a nice little suspension, he was going to have to go see her for an impromptu visit.
Monty hated Dr. Manning, a lot. In his eyes, she was a fat, condescending know-it-all with no common sense whatsoever. She seemed incapable of realizing that perhaps Monty belonged in prison and had dedicated herself in rehabilitating him. Hell, she'd even signed him up for some bullshit class trip at the end of the year, convinced that spending more time around the students of St. Paul would make Monty LESS angry.
Monty sighed and took a third bite of his apple. He turned around and left his home, heading back down onto the street. There was no point in delaying his visit to Manning. After all, if he did, it'd just give her something else to nag at him about at their next session.
Without a word, Monty started on his way to the Prominade. He threw his apple to the street, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore.
(Monty continued in Public Therapy)
After all, his mother didn't have very much money. She was a waitress for god's sake. And, she only really worked their part time. After all, Monty was too much of a handful to be left alone for too long.
Monty opened the door to his tiny home and stepped inside off his kitchen. The place was small and filled with cheap furniture. He strolled over to a noticeably old fridge with a door was barely able to stay on.
Opening it, Monty searched within for a snack. Since it'd been a while since Monty's mother had gotten a chance to grocery shop, it was pretty bare. But he still managed to find an apple for himself.
He took a bite and slammed the door closed. Glancing at the phone, Monty noticed a blinking red light. Somebody had left a message. As he took a second bite of his snack, Monty strolled up to the machine and dialled the answering machine.
"Monty, I got the call from Mr. Kendrick. And well..."
The voice was that of Monty's mother, Debbi Shore. She took a pause. It was if she was trying to find something to say to Monty and failing. She just didn't know how to tell Monty how disappointed she was.
"Look. Dr. Manning called. She wants to see you tonight. Her office is closed today. She wants to see you at the D'Amico & Sons in the Prominade. Please head over there when you get this message."
And with that Debbi hung up, and Monty sighed. Dr. Chloe Manning was Monty's therapist. One of the terms of Monty's probation and move to St. Paul was that he'd have to go see her once a week. And, since Monty had just earned himself a nice little suspension, he was going to have to go see her for an impromptu visit.
Monty hated Dr. Manning, a lot. In his eyes, she was a fat, condescending know-it-all with no common sense whatsoever. She seemed incapable of realizing that perhaps Monty belonged in prison and had dedicated herself in rehabilitating him. Hell, she'd even signed him up for some bullshit class trip at the end of the year, convinced that spending more time around the students of St. Paul would make Monty LESS angry.
Monty sighed and took a third bite of his apple. He turned around and left his home, heading back down onto the street. There was no point in delaying his visit to Manning. After all, if he did, it'd just give her something else to nag at him about at their next session.
Without a word, Monty started on his way to the Prominade. He threw his apple to the street, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore.
(Monty continued in Public Therapy)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler R-S-Lee. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.