Kieran’s perspective, in this new world
You want to know how I met him? It’s not exactly the kind of story you’d hear in fairy tales, but I’ll tell you. My name is Kieran Nazaroff. I am now 6 ft tall, I am fair with dark brown hair, and I would like to say I have a good sense of style, and I am pretty knowledgeable in some areas which I am intrigued by. And before Roy came into my life, things were... let’s say different.
I grew up in a house that never felt like a home. The only thing I really remember about my father was this thunderous, loud and crushing voice, and he would always find some fault I did. My mother? We didn’t talk much; she was like ice – cold and distant.
I also have an older sister, called Aarti; she was my family’s golden child. She was everything I wasn’t: obedient, smart, and perfect. And also, I have a younger sister, Mira; she was too young back then to understand anything about the kind of hell I lived through.
They all had their roles laid out for them. Me, you ask? I was the punching bag, an invisible one they only noticed when they needed someone to blame.
Or I think so, at least, from what I can remember.
By the time I was six, I had learnt to stop crying. Tears didn’t help, and they only made things worse. I kept my head down during the day, but at night, I’d sneak out. Those nights were my escape. I’d grab a bat I found one day, on the way home, wander the streets, and find people who deserved a good beating.
When I started this, I was around 9, turning ten. You may think I am just a mere kid with a wooden bat, but I was tall for my age; I think around 5 ft. So I had a mean swing since I was forced into the baseball team.
I would go around beating up burglars (from the news or when I saw them entering people’s houses from the rooftops), thieves, and anyone I thought was a bad person that would prey on the weak. I didn’t kill; I wasn’t a monster after all, but I didn’t hold back either.
It gave me a sense of control that I never felt, something I didn’t have at home.