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Hi my name is Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikov and I’m the son of Roman (that’s how I got my name) and I dress like a beggar and a lot of people tell me I look like Alexander II (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m related to Roman Raskolnikov but I wish I wasn’t because he’s a major fucking loser. I’m an honorable man, but I’m planning on murdering people. I have pale white skin. I’m also broke, and live at a dingy little apartment. I’m Russian (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love the dumpster and get all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing pants that were all torn up and a grey shirt with food stains on it to match. I was wearing worn shoes and my hair was a scraggly mess. I was walking outside my apartment building. It was snowing and raining, so it was cold, which I was very happy about. Some preps stared at me. I put my middle finger up at them.
“Hey Raskolnikov!” Shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Razumikhin!
“What’s up Razumikhin?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He said shyly.
But then I heard my family calling so I had to go away.