Honestly, Do I HAVE to Come up with Clever Titles All the Time?

There. Screw titles.
Well, this is something I wrote a while back. It's basically Drift writing about his own life. It's interesting. It's not actually going to be in the book, I just wrote it because I could, basically. And to help me figure out the character.
Here you are.

My name’s Drift. That’s strange, seeing my name wrote down like that. I don’t know, just something about seeing the word Drift without “the Incipen” plastered after it. I’m not sure if I like it…But that’s off topic. Illogically connected. Beside the point.

            My name. Well, I gave myself a name. The people at the orphanage never got around to it. I was always just “the kid”. They didn’t call me that to my face, of course, but they very rarely said anything to my face. The scary thing was that if anyone said “the kid”, everyone else knew exactly who they were talking about. Still, I didn’t exactly have to come up with the name myself. I was an oddball there. Not only was I a direct target to the bullies of the place, but I seemed to drift in and out of reality. Drift in, drift out, one minute the laughingstock of the place, and the next minute…scary. So the kids called me Drifter. I shortened it to Drift. So I guess you could say that my real name is Drifter, but my friends call me Drift.

            Scratch that. I don’t have any friends.

            So, enough about my name. I was born in a little town in the hilly country by the mountains. I never knew much about my parents. My father was a wealthy merchant, and my mother was a young, weak girl who never had much of a chance of living anyway. She died right after I was born, and then my father sent me off to Rimrode’s Orphanage without so much as a second glance. I guess that started it. I’m unlucky, and I always have been.

            My advice? If you’re going to go to an orphanage, do not go to Rimrode’s Orphanage.

            Run away, murder someone, just don’t go to Rimrode’s Orphanage.

            I suppose if you were a friendly kid with a heart of gold and a stomach of steel you could survive the place. But for an abandoned boy who was weird right from the start, it was torture.

            Number one: Like I said, I was an oddball. “He’s just plain wrong,” the maid used to say. I was unlucky, everyone knew it. The headmaster thought I was a troublemaker who caused freak “accidents”. All the children knew the truth, though. They knew that I never lifted a finger, but on every single outing that I went on something happened. A little girl got trapped under a rock. A boy went missing. Something valuable got lost. They knew it wasn’t my fault, that I didn’t try to do it, but that simply made it all the scarier.

            In the end, I voluntarily stopped going on the trips. The kids were scared of me, so they picked on me, to keep me away from them.

            But one day, I felt…angry. I used to cry all the time, when no one was looking, but recently I had stopped. Something was different. I felt tense, and snappy. Then, finally, when Jack Hamilton walked up and slammed me in the face, something broke inside me. Something snapped.

            “Marta Incipe!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, not sure where the words came from.

            I will never forget Jack’s scream. It went on and on and on, as he collapsed to the ground. When one of the teachers came running up to me, shouting, “Dike! It’s the kid!” I became suddenly aware of myself standing over the sobbing child.

            I was laughing.

            It was unlike anything and everything that I had ever experienced. It was relief surging through me as I was able to inflict some of my pain on someone else. I was able to make them understand how it felt, make them feel it.

            No one did understand. The people in charge there threw me out right away. It was a silent thing, with no explanation or need of an explanation. There was hardly any time between then and when they handed me to the soldiers and told them to take me out in the mountains and kill me. All I can remember before they threw me out is one conversation I had with the headmaster.

            “Why did you do that?” he asked me. He seemed genuinely curious, as if Marta Incipe were some amusing, yet possibly scary game.

            “I don’t know,” I lied. I knew exactly why. I had wanted him to hurt; to feel my pain. And I was still coursing with the feeling of it. In a way, I wanted to use it again, and in a way, I wanted to throttle myself so that I could never use it again.

            I had read about Incipens, and knew what came at the end of every single one of their lives, the four earlier recorded Incipens of history:

            Committed suicide.

            Committed suicide.

            Committed suicide.

            Committed suicide.

            I could just imagine my entry in the history books:

            Drift the Incipen. Committed suicide.

            I think it was then that I decided never to kill myself. It simply seemed cowardly, and pointless. After all, why was I here, if it wasn’t to do something somewhere, good or bad?

            I think that’s what kept me alive. The thought that I must have a purpose, for some end, for someone somewhere.

There you are. Keep in mind that that won't be in any of the books...It's just something I wrote. 
Oh yeah, and this is an episode of The Ceiling Fan I thought you might like. It's kind of an introduction to the whole concept of TCF. First, I'd better explain some stuff. 
Okay, basically, The Ceiling Fan is a podcast created by a guy named Kevin McCreary who works at Focus on the Family, the same company that makes Adventures in Odyssey. He also happens to be a diehard Odyssey fan, and so he created The Ceiling Fan while he was interning at Focus. It turned out to be pretty funny, so he did more, and now, it's really popular among Odyssey fans. The first segment is an imaginary news report in the town of Odyssey, and the second segment is about Ethan Daniels, the fifteen-year-old self-proclaimed BIGGEST Odyssey fan, played by Kevin McCreary. He's basically a "big-hearted kid with a problem with pride", as Kevin McCreary puts it. Ethan is constantly getting mad at countless people for countless reasons. He's nice enough, but he doesn't have a whole lot of friends. The Ceiling Fan is basically all he does. The idea is that he created the podcast to talk about Odyssey "and related stuff". His best friend is twenty-five-year-old Phil Jinkus, who hangs out with Ethan and is basically like his dad, 'cause nobody knows where Ethan's dad is. James Carlisle is a friend, and a former intern on the show. He recently went off to college, but he comes back in this episode. Aaron Wiley is another friend. He hasn't been around very long. This particular episode is the beginning of Season Three, the BIGGEST season yet!
So here you go.

That's it. See you on the other side of the glass!
Or tomorrow. 
-President Fantasy