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12 Mar 2012
Fun Ghoul left Battery City with the clothes on his back and a pocketful of pills in all the colors of the rainbow. Blues to bring you down, reds to bring you up, and greens to numb your feelings. He owned nothing else but his name.
He was sixteen years old.
He snuck out through the sewers like so many others who were hoping for a new life outside of the influence of BL/ind. Getting out wasn't the problem. Figuring out what to do next...that was the problem.
- Part 2 of The Sharpest Lives