Jesse Christian Santiago

Actions are the only things that will lead you to places; no matter how sick and twisted.

0 · 151 views · located in Invisible Angel Institute

a character in “A Sad Day for Happiness”, as played by SuckOnMyJuiceBox



[Room 112, bed #3]

[ Selective Mutism, Manic depression, and on the brink of an obsessive compulsion disorder. ]

[ Jesse is the kid who would rather sleep than go out on a Saturday night. He‘s more easy-going than anything, and because of it he probably doesn‘t take situations that need to be handled seriously; not serious. On a day to day basis, he usually appears to be withdrawn from activities, always planning ahead, making sure he had gotten everything, doesn‘t slip up. If you’ve known him long enough, you would know its nothing new. It’s just how he is.
He can easily recognize qualities that differ people to other people, and things that set him aside from everyone else. Though he may seem laid back and relaxed on sight, his sensitivity is overwhelming, along with his tenacity. He‘s very intense when in deep thought, or trying to think something out, even when he appears controlled and calm, there is always something writhing underneath his placid exterior. Whether its just him pondering, or if he’s enraged with something you‘ve done. Once he has anger directed towards a certain somebody, its very vicious. Even if he just doesn’t like you, he’ll make sure you know it. Often to the point where blunt is mistaken for cruelty, and hostile and morbid thoughts aren’t rare.
One of his weak points is procrastinating, thinking he has all the time in the world, and that its easier than its made out to be. All he has to do is concentrate, and he can get it done. Which, never happens. He just drills it into his head that the next time he‘ll get it right.

And that’s just on good days.

Around his closest friends he acts like he would act around anybody else. Relaxed, calm, and always waiting on something. Maybe for them to snap, or jump right out the window, but he always seemed to be waiting on something. He's never really attatched to a certain something. When hes painting, hes also listening to the radio. And when hes listening to the radio, hes also going over something in his head. When someone tells him something, it might take a moment or so, for him to register it. Then take another moment for him to come up with a response. Even if he comes off a bit indifferent and lacking empathy, his real fear is losing something, or someone, close to him. Because once he becomes attatched, hes a bit clingy. ]

[Gentleness, Variety, Proving ‘higher’ people wrong. (Teachers, authority.) Romance Novels, Cartoons,] [Being taken advantage of, shallow relationships, strangers who pry into other strangers lives, pickles, and being uncertain. ]
[Baby blue]
[ I'm not Jesus by Acopolytica ]
[ Juggling, finger painting, stamp collecting. ]

[Beginning roughly in his early teen years, screaming and yelling between his father and mother had become a constant occurrence in his household. His whole birth was a fuck up, and things just progressed from there. Police visits were weekly, and hand cuffs and shattered beer bottles were a familiar scene. The fights were often started by pointless sparks, and ignited by his father with the help of his never betraying friend; alcohol. Alcohol was a privilege his father almost couldn’t afford, and his father abused it. Which left dinner plates empty, and Jesse and his dog, Jeans, hungry. His father‘s violence progressed, leaving bruises and causing bleeding from places people just weren‘t suppose to be bleed from. His mother left and stayed wherever she stayed only to come by on weekends. Either for food, or money to help supply the new habit she had picked up. Another hole left in their pocket.

So Jesse swallowed and dealt with it. He learned to calculate how far he could go to avoid the hurt, and when silence was the better option. He was the master at the Fight or Flight game, and knew the things that ticked who and who off, and what not to do around whom. And if slinking around was a profession, he’d excel above all.

One day, right off the bat, he knew something was wrong when he came home from school. There wasn’t a sound coming from his house, and he could’ve sworn even the his neighbor, Mrs. Garlend, had looked out her window to see what had happened. Probably figuring his father had finally snapped, and killed them all in their sleep. It was so quiet, Jesse wouldn’t be at all surprised by it. But he had a pulse, and his heart was still pitter pattering against his chest.
Walking into the house, he took precarious steps around all the floorboards that creaked, avoiding any noise that could be avoided, then headed upstairs. He planned on heading to his room, but stopped short.

“Son,” His father called out from his bedroom, “C’mere.”

Jesse had paused, his arms hanging limp at his sides, and his lips parted slightly. Taking slow steps, he walked towards his father who was sitting on the edge of the bed. His father rubbed his face and smiled, showing off some stained teeth. It was then when he heard the whimper. Short and strained, coming from somewhere nearby. Then he saw the open window, and rope tied around the bed post.


Stumbling towards the window, he peered down. There was Jeans, with a rope digging into her neck, and swinging side to side. She was clawing at the side of the house, and making choking sputtering noises. Jesse had screamed, grabbed the rope, and tried to pull her back up and into the house. To no avail. Jeans was a lab, and possibly weighed more than Jesse himself. Jesse screamed and yelled, crying, and barely sucking enough air in for him to breathe for his father to bring him back in the house. His father roared with laughter, and just kept on laughing, while Jesse called the police. They eventually came, and when they did, they found Jesse’s father face down on the floor, his head beaten in with a snow globe. Enough to send him into unconsciousness, but not enough to permanently cause anything. Jesse was hung over the window, crying and screaming, still trying to grab Jeans. His father was sent to the hospital for treatment, then sent away. Because Jesse was a minor with unfit parents and no other known relatives, he was sent to the Invisible Angel Institute.

So begins...

Jesse Christian Santiago's Story