Nate Willow

----Subject Investigations Report-----

Name: Nate Willow
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian (American)
Hometown: Springwood, Ohio
Occupation: Student, Amateur Graphic Design (Gaming)
Characteristics: Sane
Placement: Non-Patient


Personality:

Dear Rowan,

I was so excited to find your last letter in the mail yesterday morning, so much that I couldn't even figure out the perfect thing to reply with! I spent all night staring up at the ceiling wondering how exactly I was going to cleverly incorporate impressive things about me when I decided "Fuck it, I'm going to be honest." So, since this is only the fourth letter sent between us and I don't know a damn thing about you besides your name and what your face (a pretty face) looks like, I thought I might as well ask you who you are. But first, I'll tell you who I am, even though you'll probably be more happy the picture I enclose in this letter more. I'm kind of cute.

Okay so first off, I guess I'll start with the good things about me... Well, I'm a quick-learned. All throughout elementary and middle-school, I caught on to just about everything anyone tried to teach me fairly quickly. I've always taken all honors classes and I'm even an intern in graphic design for a game design company based in New York. Yeah, pretty fancy, huh? Even though I'm only starting my junior year in a few months, I've already racked up quite a few scholarships.

I'm really artsy, but not in the faggy painter way. I do a little drawing in my spare time, just doodles, usually concept art for games or fan-art for books I've read. Fuck, I sound like a nerd. Smarts and gaming and fan-art. Ah well, it's what I am. And we all have our own quirks. So yeah, I draw... And I love to write! My top class in school is English and I always do great on writing tests and whatnot; hoping for a perfect score on the upcoming one this year.

Alright... so you may be surprised, but I've basically covered everything I find good about myself. Smart, creative... smart... I'm kind of funny too, I guess. Bah I sound like a tool saying all these cool things about myself. I'll move on to the bad stuff... whew, well let's get started.

I am extremely paranoid. If there's one thing that sticks with me in a crowded room, it's the fear of knowing that someone could have a gun and that gun could kill me. I worry a lot about grades, about family matters, about weather, about sleeping at night... just about everything. Name an activity, I'll find a way to get stressed about it. And, ironically, my biggest pet peeve is anything stressful. I try to eliminate all the stress in my life by simply breaking away from anything that gives me stress, even if it makes me happy.

I have very little confidence, which may be a bit odd to read after I've just told you how smart I am. Every time any sort of evaluation of my abilities comes about, like a test or an impromptu conversation, I flip the hell out. I guess that kind of ties in with my paranoia, but it's whatever. I just don't do well under pressure because I never feel I can measure up to what's needed of me.

As a result of the last two, I'm kind of introverted. I don't talk a lot in social situations, I don't talk to anyone really unless talked to first. I keep to myself and I actually like it that way for the most part. But, seclusion is lonely and I'm starting to find that as I grow up, the more dependent on others I become but the less inclined I am to approach anyone with me issues. I'm hoping you can be my go-to for problems, if we stay friends like this. Hey, we have to meet up some time! You said you don't live far! Yeah, I'll be fucking terrified of meeting you in person, but what the hell, YOLO.

Lastly for my flaws... I'm an insomniac. I guess that's not much of a problem with myself personally, but you know, I haven't had a dream in so long, I can't remember what it feels like. I'm stuck in real life, which can be a damn hell hole a lot of the time.

Oh yeah, so there's a picture included with this letter. I might as well give you the full story.

Appearance:



Alright, so you can tell from the picture that I have brown hair with faded blonde highlights. I got the highlights about six months ago, and I don't really plan on dying my hair again anytime soon. I guess you could call the highlights a phase. I'm kind of pale, since I don't get out much, with bright blue eyes. I think my eyes are my favorite feature about myself, because they stand out against the pale skin and the brown hair.

I'm short, only hitting about 5' 6" or so. I think I'll grow a little more, but not more than an inch or two. I weight about one hundred ten pounds, I'm really thin, and I have a great metabolism. I swear I've eaten three times my body weight some days, and I don't gain a pound; hell, I usually lose one after a big meal.

You can usually find me wearing neutral colors. I just prefer wearing clothes that will match with anything else I decide to wear. I also have colorful bracelets that offset the neutral colors that I usually keep on me all the time. If I'm not wearing gray, white, or black, you'll find me in brown or purple; brown, because it's a nice rich color that goes well with my skin, and purple because it's my favorite color.

Physical Condition:

• Good with Technology, esp. Computers
  Insomnia
  
• Rarely Dreams
  
• Needs Little Rest (has plenty of energy for all tasks)

Character Accessories: I have to admit, I feel like a weirdo carrying around a switchblade with me. But there's creeps everywhere, and crazy shit happens in Springwood. I have a cell phone if I need to call the cops, too.

ASSOCIATIONS

• Friends: Rowan
  
• Enemies:
  
• Rivals:
  
• Lover(s): (Rowan, maybe. <3)
  
• Relatives:
  

History

So now that you know a bit about who I am and what I look like, I'll tell you about where I've come from. As I've told you, I was kind of a child prodigy when I was younger. I was intelligent, both in book-smarts and common sense, I had lots of friends, and I loved life. As I got older, I lost my innocence, as we all do. I saw the world as bleak and boring, and so I turned to my writing for some assurance that life was not all that bad. Around the age of 12, I wrote a shitload of poetry. Some of it was emo crap, some of it was lyrical, some of it was like reading the diary of a crack addict; I was a fucked up little kid. I kind out of that phase and stopped writing. I had few friends I trusted, but a bunch of acquaintances that I would probably speak to once a week tops. After school, I went home, locked myself in my room, and played video games.

Being alone was not so bad. I had plenty of time to think and do homework and stuff, and I was never distracted. I had time to accomplish my own personal goals. It was during this time that I launched a game I created in Java that reached 500, 000 hits on a website I used to worship. I also did theater for a few years, I guess to keep hold of some sort of social outlet. But that didn't last long; I was damn good at it, but I fucking hated all the stress and worry that came with it. After a year, I turned my passion from theater to graphic design. If I could make a successful Java game when I was fifteen, I could sure as hell launch a real webbuster with a team behind me. But, that didn't really go as planned. I'm an intern now at Axis Games, based in New York. I'm surprised they hired me at all, seeing as how I'm out here in Ohio. As far as I know, I'm the only long-distance employee.

It doesn't pay (yet), but the experience is all I'm after. Now I'm sixteen year old graphic design intern entering his junior year of high school and talking to a hot guy via snail-mail. Who even uses the postal service anymore? I guess us weirdos.

So Rowan... it's your turn.

Sincerely,
Nate

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]

Role Play Sample:

There are few moments in life in which one can say that they are alone. No one is ever truly, truly alone. When you walk outside of your home on a dark, stormy night, you're bound to find a person also walking the streets, or a person in a car driving slowly by for... whatever reason, probably nothing devious, or a child staring out her window at the stranger walking down the street. See, you are never truly alone. But by the will of all that is holy or unholy, you can damn well feel like it a lot of the time. And this is one of those times.

Nate Willow paced himself as he passed a few sluggish cars in the pouring rain, knowing he had to get out that stupid house with those fucked retarded parental units whether it was storming or not. It was 11:08, according to Nate's cell phone, which he hurriedly shoved back into his back pocket before the rain could ruin it. Nate sniffled as he walked, his nose red from all the crying he had done in the past thirty minutes. His damn parents never gave him a break.

If the Willow parents were not arguing between themselves, throwing dishes at one another and threatening to leave if the other didn't do something about dinner, they were bitching at Nate for the closest thing they could pull out of their asses. Tonight, it had ended with Nate on the floor, his head bruised from slamming it against the wall after being pushing into it by his drunken father. Nate's mother had shaken her head at him on the floor; though she didn't know why the hell it had happened, she assumed that Nate probably deserved it.

Needless to say, they were not very good parents.

Ever since Nate stopped talking to most of his closer friends, the teenager found he had acquired many of the problems you would consult close friends with. The only person he really talked to anymore was this guy named Rowan that mailed him a letter once and a while. And honestly, where was that relationship going to go. Nate had never thought about a romantic relationship with anyone, but when this Rowan guy came along and Nate was so in need of someone to help him sort himself out, it was the first idea that popped into his brain.

Out of the corner of Nate's eye, the blaring yellow light of a car shone ahead of it. Nate could not have imagined that this car was going to hit him, after so many cars had already passed him up tonight. The rain picked up as the car neared, which Nate failed to notice. It was strange that the rain picked up at this very moment, but Nate did not detect any difference in the atmosphere, which had suddenly become very heavy. The car slid across the wet pavement, sliding up onto the sidewalk and blaring its horn at the person up ahead. Nate turned around, his heart beating madly all at once. With nothing to lose, Nate threw himself out of the way of the car.

Soaring through mid-air, the world stopped spinning. Nate felt himself leave his body for an instant, floating high into the stars, unable to get back down to his frozen body. After what seemed like at least a minute, a sharp pain assaulted his right hip, and time resumed its flow. Nate did not feel the pain yet, but did feel his body flung through the air, down into the asphalt of the road. For a few seconds, all he could feel was a pounding; a pounding in his head and his chest and his skull, like a headache that traveled his whole body. The full force of the blow to his hip suddenly hit him all at once.

Nate did not even notice the chestnut-haired young man sprinting up to him, asking him if he was okay. The boy writhed in pain as the young man examined his hip; there was a deep gash there, from where he had caught the edge of the grill as the car flew up. The young man scooped Nate up and carried him over to his car. The young man was not the driver of the car that had hit Nate, but the driver of a car passing by who had happened to notice the boy flung into the street. The car that hit Nate had smashed into an apartment building nearby, now smoking and sizzling in the rain.

It's driver was nowhere to be found.

Referral IDK

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