This fanfic is currently under revision, this message will change when it is completed, there are a shit load of chapters…

I don't own One Piece, any characters in One Piece, or any references to movies, video games, TV, internet celebrities, Chuck Norris (There are a LOT of references) or anything else.

A "Normal" Life

The Story of a Average Delinquent

"SCREAVER, GET YOUR ASS UP! I AIN"T WAKIN YOU UP EVERY FREAKIN MORNIN ANYMORE!"

"THEN DON"T WAKE ME UP GOD DAMN IT!"

This is what I like to see as a wondrous morning ritual that I share with my dad every time I forget to set my alarm (which isn't occasionally).

Usually I remember to set my phone, but I was up till 12:00 reading this really cool manga, so I didn't get a good night's sleep.

After getting dressed into my jeans & one of my five shirts for the week, I inhaled several pieces of buttered toast, picked up my 'untouched' backpack since Friday, got into a ten second argument with my old fart of a father about values and blah blah blah, and ran for the bus. Caught it in the nick of time too.

I sat down next to my best friend Kody. He was one of my only white friends and one of the only people who knew about my otakuness. I told him about it a while back and he's been pretty cool about it, but that's probably because he is, in fact, a stoner. He swears that he quit, but he's still pretty mellow.

"Sup man…" he said in his slow way.

"Nothin much, got into a fight with my dad this morning, again." I said.

"Ah that's dads man. I didn't even know my dad after he tried to choke me when I was 6 months old."

Oh Kody; always trying to one up me in shock value.

"DUDE! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW THAT!" I yelled, and punched him in the arm.

My name is Screaver Damien Bartel, I'm 18 year-old delinquent from Texas. Most people don't know my middle name, because I never tell anyone. Just call me Screaver Bartel for now. And don't ask me where my parents got the name Screaver…I don't have a clue

I'm about 6'2, brown hair, brown eyes. That's about all I can say really. I guess people call me heavy set which doesn't mean I'm fat or anything, just big. And I carry plenty of scars on my body. My arms, face, even a few on my back. I kinda have a messed up childhood or something, but I don't have to get into that.

If you want to really understand me, there are three things you really need to know.

I am an otaku…okay that isn't entirely true. I'm a closet otaku. At school I am a regular guy who claims to know nothing of anime. I don't mean it, I really love anime, but I just can't let that fact out. But when I step off that bus, walk slowly home, drop my backpack, and sit in my chair…let's just say I have lost track of how many hours of anime I have watched & manga I have read.

I am a fighter. I don't know why. It's just when I get into an argument with a guy, that guy walks a way with a broken nose or a bruised arm. I can't help it. I really shouldn't have taken those boxing classes, because it only causes more grief for the other guy at the end of the spectrum. I don't mean I will pick a fight for no reason. If they throw the first, I will use my full force on them. I also won't ever hit a man while he's down, or hit a girl if I can help it.

I have a sort of mixed sense of justice. I mean if there were a bunch of people ganging up on one small guy for a dumb reason, I would surely help him out. But I don't judge people on what they did in the past. I mean if I knew a guy who…oh I don't know…burned his house down three years ago, and he hasn't done anything like that since then, I won't care. As long as no one messes with anything or anyone I like and care about, I won't bother them. Does that make sense?

We finally made it to, what I like to call, the absolute worst school in the county, Jillian High School.

School those days just seemed to blur by.

I mean halfway through your senior year you just stop caring and just unconsciously move from classroom to classroom, not talking to other people and just zoning out thinking about Pokemon or giant robots battling each other.

I didn't really talk to many people; mostly people seemed to avoid me.

And at a school with mini cartels and gangs hanging out in the cafeterias, that's saying something when nobody wants to mess with you.

So after another day of being in Jillian High, I returned to my bedroom and spent several hours watching, what else, anime.

I rewatched some of the earlier episodes of One Piece and tried to remember when I first saw it.

I was introduced to the 4kids version first unfortunately, but from what they seemed to ruined with bad voice acting and extreme editing still seemed interesting.

So I found all the subbed episodes and got absorbed into the world of the otaku.

Desert Punk, Gurren Lagan, mostly shonen.

I'm also a big Soul Eater fan, and even went as far as creating my own kind of Demon Weapon.

It's a weapon that can turn into a bazooka! I have the size and color, and all the abilities all thought out. Hell I even tried to draw it! But I'm not that great of an artist. Sorry, getting off topic.

Anyway, my day was going to end well, when my dad walked in. This was going to be the defining moment in my life.

"Screaver, we need to talk." His voice sounded upset.

"What is it dad?"

"Son…this is getting ridiculous. I don't want you playing on that computer anymore."

I jumped out of my chair. "What? But why?"

"Screaver, it's screwing with your life! Your grades are in the crapper, you won't stop fighting at school, and it's all you ever do when you get home. As your father, I'm not going to let you end up like some low life scum on the side of the street. I'm taking that computer away until you learn to get your act together!"

"Stop! Dad, Jillian High is a shit school, the other kids start it first, and after spending all my time in school this is the best way of relieving my stress! And I'm not going to end up like some damn hobo!"

"Well you're on your way! I'm taking that computer!"

I struggled with him for a bit, but my dad was stronger than me. He pushed me aside, ripped the computer out of the wall, and left me with his final words, "this is for your own good!"

I sat in my room for an hour trying to grasp what just happened. My conscious was trying to speak to me as it normally does when I don't want it to.

Well, what now Screaver? Your dad has taken away your computer. They won't allow you to get on the internet at school, and Kody doesn't have a computer.

Shut up. I told it.

But I had to admit, my conscious was making some sense.

Maybe anime was taking too much of my time. I had other obligations at school & at work.

I blew what few friends I had off so I could just zone out and play on the computer.

Whenever I wasn't at school, at work, or fighting some stupid guy because I accidentally looked at him wrong, I was watching goofing around and watching anime. Maybe a break would be good for me…

I stood up and nodded.

"From now on, I'm going to cut anime from my life!"

-WHOOSH-

And suddenly, I wasn't in my room anymore.

In fact, I didn't know where the hell I was. I knew that I was floating somewhere since my feet weren't touching the ground. All I could see was neon blue lights surrounding me.

I herd an echoing voice inside of my head repeating some strange language over and over again. It sounded like a guy.

Is quisnam does non puto does non ago.

It wasn't Spanish I could tell, nor was it Japanese. Latin maybe? A friend of mine was learning Latin and sometimes told me some phrases in Latin before, it was roughly similar. For 10 or so minutes it repeated that line, and I finally got fed up.

"HEY! IF THIS IS A KIDNAPPING, I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS YA BITCH!"

Ego vadum tribuo vos unus res vestri pectus pectoris verum votum.

"Speak English dammit!" As you can probably tell from how my day had been going, I wasn't a happy camper.

And, once again, I wasn't in that blue room anymore. I was falling out of the sky, over a blue ocean, with no feeling but the sting of the air.

Now I know you all think I wasn't scared in the least right? I'm Screaver Bartel, the biggest badass anyone has ever seen right? Well, the only thing I was thinking was AHHHHHHHHH! WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK?

So where was I? Oh yeah. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK?" Did I get pushed out of a plane?

Was this some overblown revenge plan from one of my many enemies from school?

Was I dreaming?

Nope, it wasn't any of those things, but I didn't have time to think of what the flying fuck was happening!

I finally crashed into the water below with a painful -SPLASH-

I don't know how I could have been still alive after hitting the water from that high, but I slipped into unconsciousness as I began to sink further down into the salty depths below.