|Name: Adam Joseph Renard|
|Shortdesc: Fragile, teenage boy|
|Position: Upside down?|
|Fame: Who me?|
|Temperament: Um… just a little crazy|
|Themesong: Grim Goodbye by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus|
|Francisco Lachowski as Adam Joseph Renard
WARNING: This information should be considered OOC Knowledge unless one has the IC means to access it.
Adam was one of those children that was exceptionally talented. When his couch told his parents that he had the potential to go to the Olympics, he wasn't just trying to convince them to enroll Adam in his center, he actually meant it. Adam Joseph, or AJ, was your every day kid. He struggled with school. He made friends. He played. He also trained. For him gymnastics was something fun; for his father it was something for his son to achieve. Of course, the occassional bet here and there didn't hurt, especially when he would bet against his son, then slip him some cold medicine before a competition. Like a lot of kids in serious gymnastics, puberty hit a little later for AJ. That was when everything changed.
When he turned twelve years old, he started having night terrors. He would wake up screaming and he even started wetting the bed again. A thing that his father would beat him mercilessly for, telling him that he needed to start growing up and stop behaving like a baby. His grades started getting worse, as he just couldn't focus on his school work. This happened about the same time that his mother and father started fighting more and more. Then one night, Adam got up after having a particularly bad dream and walked into the bathroom to find his mother's body floating in the tub, with a deep cut down the length of her arm. For months, he could not get the cold, still expression of her eyes out his mind. He withdrew from everything, from gymnastics, from his friends, and from his father.
Of course, his father steadily became more and more distant from his son. This rift between father and son only grew wider when Adam started saying things that there was no way he should have been able to know, like the fact that his father had been screwing three women for the past year, well before his mother's death, or that he was stealing money from work, or a sundry of other things that had never been said around the boy. A bed-wetter was one thing, but to have his son be some sort of carnival side show freak was another. As the years passed since the death of Adam's mother, the two barely talked to one another. Life in the house was one of silent passing. As he became a teenager, Adam's mood swings became worse and worse, and the two, eventually, reached a boiling point, until the yelling turned into fighting.
On Adam's fiftheen birthday, the boy could not fight off the looming darkness of his depression, and he went into the bathroom and pulled out every bottle of pills he could find. He knew that his father wouldn't be off of work for several hours and that he would probably hit the bar first anyway. His guardian angel was looking over his shoulder that day, because an old friend of his mother's, who had not seen the boy since his mother's funeral, happened to be in town and decided to stop in and take him out to dinner for his birthday. Catherine knocked and knocked, but no one answered, despite the face that she could hear the television on. She looked through the window and saw Adam lying on the floor unconscious. She called 911 and the ambulance and police showed up and took him to the hospital. Adam's father came to the hospital once. He never came to his son's room. He spoke with the nurse and turned around and left. Adam became a ward of the state, and after his release, was placed in foster care, the first of three in the course of a year. None of them really worked out.
When Adam was sixteen years old, he tried to kill himself again. This attempt ended up with him being put under a psych evaluation. The facility that he was placed in was a state run facility that under budget and too busy. The doctors were worked to the bone, and Adam was misdiagnosed and lost in the system of paperwork. He was admitted into the care of the state once again, but this time, his home would be a sterile room, where nurses and doctors who really don't care push pills down his throat to keep him quiet and sedated. That was until a news reporter did a report on the hospital that Adam was in. The public outcry was loud and the facility had to be closed down. A massive class action law suit was filed by the families of the patients there. So even though no one was specifically speaking up for Adam's rights, a sizable settlement was placed in a bank under the boy's name, should he ever be of sound enough mind to claim it. More importantly, with the hospital closed, Adam had to be transferred.
The hospital that Adam was transferred to was located in Chicago. Located in the city, many young doctors do their internships there, so the staff did not have the same tired and worn-out out, I don't care attitude. That was when one young doctor, Wiliam McKenzy, began to work with Adam. Dr. McKenzy started changing up the meds that kept Adam so out of it and started the teenager working with art therapy. That was when Dr. McKenzy started to suspect that Adam might not by schitzophrenic but might have some sort of psychic ability. Unsure if he is actually correct or not, Dr. McKenzy started Adam's treatment with a whole new approach, which seems to be working, as far as he can tell. The boy has been coming around more and more with more frequent bits of clarity. Dr. McKenzy doesn't know if Adam will ever be "alright" but any improvement is better than living in a chemically induced catatonia.