A psychological condition, otherwise known as pathological or compulsive lying, in which the sufferer habitually lies. The lies are caused by an internal need to lie, not environmental or social factors. Unlike in psychotic or delusional disorders, people with this condition can recognize they are lying.
A mental disorder characterized by paranoia and a pervasive, long-standing suspiciousness and generalized mistrust of others. Individuals with this personality disorder may be hypersensitive, easily insulted, and habitually relate to the world by vigilant scanning of the environment for clues or suggestions that may validate their fears or biases. Paranoid individuals are eager observers. They think they are in danger and look for signs and threats of that danger.
-Hunting & Fishing
My name is Lexa Skyette but people call me Sky. I was born in 1996 in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. My mother died shortly after giving birth and my father was a depressed, drunk fuck. I only know my father from pictures and stories, me and him lived with his mother. My grandma took care of me while my dad was drowning his sorrow with alcohol. She took care of me after my dad... let’s say gave up.. he jumped off a bridge, ending his life when I was 9 months. Apparently, he missed my mother too much and didn't gave a shit about me. But that’s fine. I got the message. Selfish prick. My grandma took care of me the best she could until she died. I was 13 at the time and her death was devastating for me. Suddenly I was all alone. Of course I had those crappy foster homes for a while but they didn't care about me. It was me taking care of myself. I switched foster homes a lot because the families said I was "too chaotic" or "too dangerous". They sent me to some wise doctor who was trying too hard to be my friend. I received a letter on my 14th birthday from my aunt. She lived in a country I’ve never heard of and she told me that she is the sister of my mother. I was surprised I still had family and I wrote her back. She seemed nice, at least nicer than those cunts who call themselves parents. I hated living with them so I fucked off when I was 16. The plan was to go to my aunt, in my last letter to her I told her that I was on my way to her. I wouldn't be a problem anymore for my "parents".
So there I was, 16 and alone with a backpack stuffed with food and a sleeping bag. My plan was to go to Germany first with the money I stole of my so called "parents". The travel was no problem and my bus stopped in Hamburg. My German is very basic but good enough to make myself understandable. I didn't want to use any money for a hotel so I slept on the street the first night. A couple hours at the train station, then a couple hours in a park. I was restless and didn't sleep well because of the fear of thieves and bad people in general. The next day I bought a train ticket to Kryvy Rih,a city in Ukraine. It was a long trip but I at least i could catch up with sleeping in the train. I tried to sleep in the train station but the cops kicked me out. I started roaming the city, trying to find a good spot to lay down for a few hours but there was none. I returned to the train station and checked around if there were still cops around. I couldn't see any so I laid down on a bench again. The bench was uncomfortable and I didn't sleep that well. I remember suddenly hearing steps and me jumping up and looking at two cops. They started talking in Ukrainian to me and I quickly grabbed one of my bags and made a run for it. I had to leave the sleeping bag and the clothing bag behind but at least I wouldn't get a fine or jail time. The cops were old and slow and it wasn't a problem to get away from them. It was early in the morning when I returned to the train station and bought a ticket of my last money. The ticket was expensive and it was to Novorossiejsk, a city in Russia. At least the train gave me the chance to catch up on sleep again.
I was worried though, I thought I would have had enough money to reach this Chernarus country but now I was stuck in a city in Russia without spare clothing, a sleeping bag or food. I was worried yes but I wasn't afraid. I know how to steal and even though I used to do it for the thrill I did it there for food and clothing. It was just shoplifting but still dangerous. What if I got caught and arrested, what if they kick me out of the country? I don’t know what they would do. Luckily enough I was good at shoplifting and pick pocketing. I was saving up all the money I got from pickpocketing but it went slow. I needed money for another ticket, I already scouted out the train station but the tickets were checked heavily so I couldn’t slip in and I definitely couldn't lay on the roof of a train for days...
I think I spent 3 weeks in that city in total, trying to get by. It was a hard time, fighting off cunts who were trying to steal my stuff or trying to grab me or worse. I know how to defend myself and the moment I pulled a knife they back off most of the times. I never found a good spot to sleep and I was restless. Those weeks taught me a lot about surviving on my own. I stole a lot during those weeks, from a bread at the supermarket to pickpocketing wallets at the station. I was trying to spend barely any money so I could save up for the train ticket and after a few weeks I had enough. I bought the ticket and I finally felt some peace when I entered the train. It was an old train but it did its job and after a few days I arrived in Belozersk. It was one of the bigger cities in Chernarus and my aunt was living somewhere in that city. I took an envelope with me with her address on it and showed it to people and asked if they knew where it was. I think it took me 3 or 4 hours before I finally found someone who spoke English and gave me directions. It was a 40-minute walk until I arrived at the house. It was in the outskirts of the city and suddenly I got nervous. These last months I traveled and lived off the street but now I finally reached my goal.
I knocked on the door and a woman opened it. She looked so much like the pictures of my mom, I just couldn't speak. My Aunt, Isa, recognized me and looked shocked. We just stared at each other until I opened my mouth: “well here I am" and she let me in. She gave me food and tea what I ate and drank as quick as I could. I was so hungry. I told her about the trip but she was acting strange. She told me to go shower upstairs while she would make dinner. A shower. I was so glad I could finally wash myself in a proper shower again. After washing myself we ate dinner and we talked. She was quiet and acting strange so I asked what was wrong. Then she asked if I read the last letter she sent. I was confused because I left the foster home after I posted the letter saying that I was on my way. Isa looked uncomfortable and then she started to explain that I couldn't stay. That she can't take care of me and that she would bring me to the airfield the next day to put me on a plane back. I was shocked. I was too shocked to be mad. The bitch didn't want me either. The last family member I had didn't want me. I tried to explain to her that I can help with the rent and through what kind of hell I went through to get to her but she didn't care. She didn't want me.
So there I was; shocked sitting at the kitchen table while I slowly felt the rage grow. I remember clentching my fists before I threw the plate on the ground. I remember screaming my lungs out. I remember willing to do anything but she still said no. She looked scared at me as I stood up and jammed the knife into the table. "Fine!"; I screamed, "Fuck you too". I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder. Isa was mumbling something real quiet but I didn't listen. I was furious. I opened the door and before I slammed it behind me I screamed at her: “you murdered me by doing this!".
The next month passed slowly. I lived from day to day and I was furious at anyone and anything. I was broke so I couldn't go anywhere or buy anything so I just started to roam the streets of Belozersk. These shops had way worse protection than the western shops so the shoplifting was easier and I managed to get some money together by pickpocketing. I am fast so even when I got caught I managed to get away. I used to sleep a few hours at the time and then move to the next position to catch some more hours of sleep. It was exhausting at first but I got used to it. I was still furious at anyone and at one night it became too much. Some man tried to steal my bag while I was sleeping but I noticed it. I pushed him away and told him to fuck off but he didn't understand me. I screamed at him but he still came closer. I pulled out my knife and he started laughing. He started laughing at me like I was some joke. He saw me like the rest of the world did: some chick that barks but doesn't bite. He stepped closer but instead of backing off I stepped closer and jammed the knife in his chest. The man looked shocked and stumbled backwards. I let go off the knife and looked speechless at the man. The man slowly collapsed while I grabbed my stuff. I looked at the man gasping for air and swallowed. It was the cunts own fault, not mine. I grabbed his bag and ran off. He wouldn't need it anymore.
I had to disappear. Maybe someone witnessed it or maybe I was recorded. The months after the incident were tough but I handled it. I hit the road and stayed out of the big cities. I sneaked into farms and stole food like a chicken or whatever the farm was growing. I slept in barns with or without animals and I washed myself in lakes and ponds. I am sneaky and quick and it wasn't hard to get by. I taught myself how to hunt and set traps and I was never low on food or really hungry. Chernarus had plenty of food to offer. After a while I went back to the cities to pickpocket and I broke into several houses for clothing, food and cash. I traveled around by foot or I hitchhiked. I lived like that for 3, maybe 4 years and it was something I was finally good at. For the first time in years I felt like I belonged, I belong on the road by myself because in the end, people will disappoint you anyways.
A couple months after the winter the country started to get a weird feeling. I often heard and saw military helicopters fly over. A lot of military convoys passed me on the road. I heard from someone that this country had a bad relationship with Russia so I guessed that the relation got worse and that the borders were getting extra manpower. I decided that it was probably a good idea to stay away from the border so I headed south. I arrived at a small farm when the nigh just fell and I scouted it out as usual. I didn't see anyone outside or light in the building so I sneaked in. This farm had some apple trees so I gathered some apples and had a look around in the barn. There was a nice hatchet that I put in my bag before it climbed up the ladder and made myself comfortable in the hay. I fell asleep quickly, not aware of the big surprise that was waiting for me.
Everything was quiet when I woke up the next day. I remember hearing a cow moo below me in the barn as I was packing my stuff. I walked down and pet the cow on its head: “not today Bessie" and I winked at her. I had enough food. I walked out of the barn and there was still no sign of people around. I decided to sneak closer to the house to see if I could find some better tools to take but when I got closer I saw a dead dog on a chain lace and by the smell of it it was dead for at least a week. I started to get nervous and took out that hatchet I found earlier as I sneaked around the building. I tried to peak into the building through the glass but it was too dark inside. I started to get a bad feeling in my stomach but I went to the door. I swallowed and tried the handle. It wasn't locked. I cletched my fist around the hatchet before I stepped inside. The creaking of the wooden floor scared me, I froze and listened for noise but I didn't hear anything. Why would people just straight up dissapear and leave their stuff? I went into the kitchen and went through the cabinets. I found very little food but there were some nice energy bars so I put them in my bag. This weird, abandoned house could be a goldmine. I sneaked into the living room and looked through the drawers and I found a gun and a box with bullets next to it. It is the revolver I still carry to this day. I loaded the gun and put the ammo box in my bag. My bag was starting to get full but I could do with some new clothing so I sneaked towards the bedroom with the revolver in my right hand. I slowly opened the door and my eyes widened, there was a body of a man on the bed. I was shocked, frozen and suddenly the man turned its head towards me. He moaned but he looked like he was decaying. I raised my revolver at him and told him in my best Chernarussian, that is super crap, to stay there and not move. He didn't seem to react and his moaning turned into growling, the growling of an animal came out of....that thing! His right arm started reaching for me as the growling turned louder and I cocked the gun. I told him again to stay the fuck back but he started to crawl closer. I aimed at his chest and shot once. The shot echoed through the house. The man didn't care he got shot and kept growling and trying to reach me. I shot it with a fucking revolver! The man came closer so I aimed again but this time at his face. I shot the last 5 bullets in it and his head splattered over the bedsheets and wall behind him. It smelled disgusting and looked even worse. I quickly left the house and threw up on the doormat. What the fuck was going on?
I left the house with a weird and confused feeling. What was this? What happened? This couldn't be good.. I decided to follow the road and hoped I'd reach a city or a town. I walked for a few hours when I saw a town. I loaded my revolver and stuck it in my belt and put my coat over it. I still felt a bit nauseous and I was hoping that there would be a pump in the town so I could wash my clothing. I walked into the town but I didn't see anyone but there was a pump. I started to pump some water when I suddenly saw someone up the road walking towards me. I stood up and grabbed my bag and started walking towards him. He looked... injured, he was walking with a limb. When I got within voice range I asked him with a loud voice if he was okay. He stopped for a second but then sped up his pace. He started running at me and then I saw him. He had 2 bullet wounds in his chest and his face was bloody and torn. His cheek was hanging off his face and his eyes were yellow. He growled loudly as he started to sprint at me. I took out my revolver and screamed at him to stay back. He didn't react and kept sprinting so I shot 2 times at him. The first bullet hit his upper leg and the second broke his knee. The guy fell down and started to crawl towards me, still moaning and crawling. He didn't show any signs of pain and was focused on getting to me. I shot the last 4 bullets at him and he stopped moving. He had left a trail of blood and flesh on the road. I felt shocked. What the fuck was happening?! I walked towards him and looked at him. What happend to him?.. I reloaded the gun and suddenly heard more growling. More people... or things.. came towards me. They must have been attracted by the noise of the gun. I grabbed my bag from the ground and sprinted off into the woods, away from this hell. I kept running through the woods untill I reached a hunting stand. I felt scared and confused. What the fuck was that? I climbed up the stand and stayed there for the night. I tried to fall asleep but the I kept repeating the situations in my head. What did I get myself into?...