♆ Salt Water ♆

[|| Ghost ||]

♆ ♆

__________________________

Sunday morning, and you're just rolling out of bed. That terribly sexy updo that your bangs make, and all of the millions of little fly-aways made you cringe as you looked in the mirror. A small huff escaped you, and you attempted to figure out something simple that might look tolerable, yet keep the hair out of your face. Once that was all done, you pulled out your phone, checking it like it was the morning paper as you stepped out into the kitchen. Earlier, the clock had read somewhere around 11pm. So technically it wasn't really morning. It seemed that everyone else in your household was gone, or still sleeping- the silence was your hint. Out of habit, you checked your e-mail too. And within your inbox, read the title 'Twitter Updates from Clark Kent, One Direction, Eric Cartman, Ed Sheeran...' . It was that Twitter account of yours, the one that you never went on. You sighed again, debating on whether or not extra milk in your Corn Flakes was more important than checking a dusty Twitter update. Somehow, Twitter won over, and you leaned against the counter top as you scrolled through the random statuses. Clark Kent: 'Bad vibrations?' , Eric Cartman: 'It's a man's obligation to stick his boneration in a women's separation; this sort of penetration will increase the population of the younger generation.' Ed Sheeran: 'I will be a chubby old man once this metabolism stops, but a happy old man' One Direction: 'This is your last chance to get a free trip to the Virgin Islands and meets the boys! Remember, all entrants must be from the US!'
Carefully, You looked around the room, and you bit your lip. What the hell? Right? It wasn't like it was actually going to happen- I mean, the last part. Not the part about Ed Sheeran's fast metabolism... Although everyone would like one of those... Not the point. So you talked yourself into submitting your name into drawing. You had to put in a bunch of your own personal information, but honestly- there aren't very many girls out there who don't want One Direction to know everything about them... About a week later, you'd completely forgotten about the Twitter thing. Every once in a while, the thought came up in your head, but it was quickly replaced with something more important like school work. It was Monday morning, and you were sitting in the bleachers of your high school, getting ready for an assembly. You looked right down at the floor of the gym. At first, there was only darkness. But you followed the spotlight. There were two men dressed in black t-shirts and blue jeans. Your principial handed his mic to them, and the man spoke, "Is [insert your name] here? We're here to tell you... You- you've won the One Direction drawing. We'd like you to come down here..." He peered into the crowd, his Cheshire accent thrumming. And then your heart stopped, and your stomach fell down two flights of stairs. A string of curse words ran on and on for miles in your brain, and it was only thanks to the people sitting around you, that you were able to get up and move. Once there, the man handed you a number of papers that you'd be needing. Asking for your parent's signature and a some instructions on where everyone would be meeting.

That week, you were the queen of your school. People were asking you questions left and right, and it was still impossible to grasp anything the right way as you boarded the plane. Carefully, you picked a seat that seemed well off from everyone else. Here you were, with One Direction and four other girls. The sight of them made your stomach twist, and it took a bit of courage to say anything competent at first. Yet everything was fine, the entire flight had been just fine. Most of everyone was getting along, and countless stories and jokes were told along the way- when suddenly the pilot spoke on the intercom. "I'm sorry, but we are experiencing strong turbulence, I'm gonna need you all to put on your seat belts." Everyone quieted down, but shrugged it off. Some wusses even whimpered a little- well- Harry, and some other girl too. The plane endured a few heavy bumps and the lights flickered a bit. But it was still silent as you all waited for it to stop. About five minutes later the pilot spoke again, "You may now enjoy your flight, we apologize for the inconvenience. We are now 2/3 of the way to the Virgin Islands." That was a relief. And everyone sighed thankfully. The light flickered off above you that symbolized that you were allowed to take off your belt. But then, in bold lighting it came back on. This time far more intense than you remembered. A loud beeping sound blared from the airplane. The pilot was speaking, trying to contact other planes. "Engine down! Engine down! Engine is failing and we're clogged with volcanic ash! Can anyone hear me?! I repeat our engine has failed! I-i don't think I can land this! Oh Sh**! Our right wing is gone!! Some one! Some one answer me! Help us!!" His words became fuzzy and deaf to your ears once you heard the first explosion. Everyone looked over at the same time as the right wing broke off, the lights flickered on and off like strobe lights. The plane dipped heavily and it began to tremble, jerking everyone around. You felt sick, and you vommited over your mask, but you kept it on anyways. The air you breathed stank of rotten food and you wanted to throw up again but this time you held it in. You felt your seat belt tug at your stomach and press into your flesh but that pain was forgotten by the adrenaline rush as you looked into the eyes of those on your flight. Were you all going to die? People were screaming and fumbling with the masks, some people were holding hands, some were closing their eyes. You looked to your left to see the flight attendant crying, she had dark hair and pale skin. She looked Chinese, and a bit over her fifties. Her hands were clenched around her mask as a spine-chilling scream escaped her. Then you looked at Liam who sat beside her. His jaw was tight and his eyes were hard. A flicker of fear in them, and as soon as you two locked eyes you watched as the whole cockpit was ripped off. A hoarse scream escaped you like and eagle's cry, and you squeezed your eyes shut and prayed to God that you wouldn't die. That this was all just a dream. You felt the wind graze your body and then there was an impact. Everything blacked out...

"This is so tragic and all our hearts go out to One

Direction and those five girls that were lost at sea. When that plane went down- agh, i can't even imagine what it must have been like. I know that all the Directioners and their parents are terribly distraught over the matter. But, what do you think those guys will experience?" A man in a blue tuxedo sat with one leg over the other as he leaned into his chair comfortably. He mulled over what he would say, taking his time before carefully speaking. "I understand what you mean. And i can't be certain where it is that they've crashed. But they're still lucky they crashed where they crashed. The Caribbean islands are full of biodiversity. The islands there are full of resources. I wouldn't worry too much, i'm sure those kids can take care of themselves just fine. For now, we just have to hope that they all come back home safely and that they're all thinking collectively. There are thousands of islands in the Caribbean, and it may take time for us to find them. Hopefully they know that, and hopefully they don't give up hope. We have hundreds of rescue teams looking for them. So i'd say, that the boys should see this as a vacation. They should all enjoy themselves while they can. Who knows what might happen..."

You wake up, the sound of cracking fire and thick smoke makes you crinkle your nose and cough. When you open your eyes, you can see the sunlight seeping through the window. Where were you? All you remembered was blacking out, and now you were here. Alone. You cover your mouth with your wrist to block the smoke from your airway, and you crawl out from the plane. You're covered in blood and sand, and your mouth is dry to the point where when you breathe, the salt sticks to your throat. You hear a creaking sound, and carefully turn to see the

broad wing fall towards you as you stumble forwards to escape being flattened. There is a loud 'boom!' as the wing lands a foot from where

you're panting, and then the flames grow bigger. You try to stand but it hurts too much, and then the explosion goes off. Everything blacks out... Several hours later you awaken. It is nighttime, and the plane is now only a piece of charred rubble with scattered embers. Juvenile flames that show no threat. You stand and look around, the moon and the fire from the plane is your only light. The salt water washed back and forth along the shore, smooth and crisp and you can smell the untouched air mingled with smoke. And there is a mix of fear and anger inyour heart as you let out a scream of frustration. You are stranded, and you are alone...

This is an original plot created by me. Ghost. You may not use it in another role play in any other way- thank you.

[|| Ghost ||]

♆ I would appreciate at least one paragraph per post {five sentences}. Everyone has writer's block once in a while- but i seriously don't think that in every post you're gonna have trouble writing something down. Also- this irritates me SO much: When you don't post in the entire role play, just because you can't think of anything to post. It's not that hard to write something down- i've been in role plays that have gotten to the 100th page and one person won't post just because they can't think of any way to start out. My characters never start out with everyone else, so you shouldn't have to either. I will not accept that excuse from you.

♆ *Face palm* It can't just be me, but i absolutely hate it when people aren't being realistic. Wake up, this is not 'Days of our Lives' or 'The Young and the Restless'. This is the real world and people are not going to respond that way in real life. If you're going to write about anything- know what you're writing about. And if you need to, do some research instead of making yourself look like a complete idiot. In real life, a famous person is not going to give their heart away to just anyone. I swear i'll reach through the screen and shoot ya' in the head if you fall in love with the person you lay eyes on. It takes way more then fifteen hours to get engaged to someone- especially if you were sober during the whole thing. I could see if you were drunk the whole time- then that would make sense. A pregnancy could happen while you were 'in the moment' but you can not do both a marriage and a pregnancy with one couple. In my opinion, a star would have a hard time falling in love with someone within the first few minutes or hours of speaking to them. There might be something special that they like, but having thoughts like 'She's the most beautiful girl i've ever laid eyes on and she's the one for me. She's my soulmate!' Yeah, i'm sorry you Nicholas Sparks fans but i can say with a 100% confidence that guys don't think that way in real life. Therefore, you are not to have an incredibly unrealistic sob story- i mean, i don't mind a sob story. As long as you're responsible and realistic about having a bad past. Do NOT go around and spill your past to every single person who asks. You must also wait untilI the 50th or 100th page, until any kind of 'love' or 'exceptional attraction' can be established. I will add more when i need to...

♆ You are not God! So don't control every single event that happens- that's my job. But seriously no God-modding, power-playing, Mary/Gary-Sues, etc. If you're experienced enough to join this role play then you obviously know what i'm talking about. All of Tess's rules apply here, so don't break them. You may curse, though i'd prefer that you didn't do it a lot. Chicken Smoothie is also a sight for all ages, and i don't want little kids to get the wrong idea and to start telling their parents to screw off at the age of six. Chicken Smoothie will get in trouble, and then i will get in trouble- it's the domino effect. If you are going to curse, please star out the vowels but please don't drop something like the F-bomb. This role play will be PG-13. So don't get so into your new hubby that you start explaining every little detail about your trip to the Moon. If you're going to make love then either take it to PM or just have the scene 'fade to black'.
Alright, so you can only have one character. I might allow some of you to have more then that (heck i might allow some of you to make up a bunch of new characters) , but only if you can keep up with the rest of us and if we're ever in need of new characters. It's just a game so don't take everything so seriously. In my book, you have two chances to prove your loyalty/worth to this role play. That's all you get, two chances. If you're gone for more then a week without a proper excuse, if you start breaking my rules after myself or the co.owners have countlessly warned you, or if you start arguing OOC- then you can say 'Auf Wiedersehn!' to this role play. Realize that everything the mods, co.owners, and myself- everything that we are saying to you is 98% of the time for your own good. We're only attempting to assist you in having an easier time adjusting and fitting in to the role play without disrupting the storyline. If you have not replied within three days, i will PM you and warn that your character may end up having his/her tail chased by a couple of vigorous lions and he/she probably won't end up living to tell the tale. If you do not respond, i will PM you in two days to inform you that my characters a fitting a new gravestone with your name on it in their front yards. There will be drama, blood, death, gore, illness, mystery, love, and simply- surviving the wild. Everyone does not have to fall in love, some of you might even die. :O That's right, you've outlived your karma long enough and now there's gonna be a little more heart ache and a little less heart.

♆ The island is filled to the brim with resources, from food to building materials. But that doesn't mean you can magically build a mansion and wield glass. The best you could probably make is a fort or a hut, made of sticks, bamboo, banana leaves, vines, and parts from the airplane. The island will also endure annual floods, so you can not magically be able to evade the floods if you are on shore when it happens. This is realistic. Be logical and compromise. You're gonna have to give a little to get. You can't always take down the boar or the leopard, because chances are it's a hell of a lot stronger then you'll ever be. That means no Gary/Mary Suing, no God Modding, and no Power Playing.

♆ Now, i'm not really as mean and blunt as these rules might make me seem. To be honest, i'm pretty laid back about a lot of things. Just follow these rules and we won't have a problem okay? In my opinion, they're pretty simple. Sure they take a while to read through but last time i checked, it's better to know what you're up against then knowing nothing at all. Wouldn't you prefer that i let you know what i expect? Instead of nagging you throughout the role play that you're writing is crappy? Don't be offended if i don't accept you- if your skeleton contains anime pictures, celebrity pictures (unless you're making a new celebrity/1D character) , emo people/pictures, or crappy literature- then chances are you won't get in. I want real pictures of real people, professional ones that aren't blurry. Your characters must be between the ages 16-21, and they must be straight. And no, you can not have a pet. Oh and one more thing before i forget! Posting images in every post is not allowed in ChickenSmoothie. So please don't decorate your posts with FontMeme or any other pictures, as it is considered spam with no relativity to the topic of this forum. And spam overloads the site, which in turn leads to the site being shut down because it's working so hard to process all of these images. So yeah, don't post images but make your posts pretty using text generators or something else. I will constantly be editing and adding on to the rules so check back frequently. ^_^

Owner 1 : Gh⊕st {Me}
Owner 2 : S⊕ul
Co. Owner(s): -

_____

You are on a secluded, unknown island somewhere in the Caribbean. You don't know where you are, all you know is that you are alive. And that you and four other girls are stranded on an island with One Direction. You don't know how long it will be until the rescue will come, but the scary part is- neither does the rescue. The weather is always warm. It's humid during the summer and dry during the rest of the year. The water is incredibly salty, too salty to drink. You might be able to boil it but who knows. It's still hot at night, but on exceptional nights it can be cool and breezy. Heavy rain and thunder storms are not unusual. Every once in a while there are huge floods that cover the entire shore. Everyone has been scattered along the island, and we must all find each other for the head count. We just have to hope that everyone's still alive...

Some Caribbean Fruits & Animals & Fish & Plants.

_____

You are in the eastern reaches of the gargantuan island. With four of the survivors, you all must hike across dark forests and sodden valleys. Beware wild boars and cunning leopards, they are a force to be reckoned with. Poisonous plants and infections are anyone's worst enemies. But you all only have one thing in mind- you must find the other half of the survivors.


♆ Kester Greyson
♆ Aidan Collins
♆ Harry Styles
♆ Zayn Malik
♆ Liam Payne

You are in the western reaches of the gargantuan island. With four of the survivors, you all must trek across burning sand and salty waters. Beware sharks and all creatures of the deep, they will not hesitate to make a meal of you. broken coral and reaches where you can not see where you step, hide in every inch of space here. But you all only have one thing in mind- you must find the other half of the survivors.

♆ Olivia Young
♆ Cecilia Samuel
♆ Alice Blue
♆ Louis Tomlinson
♆ Niall Horan

Note: I will choose who will be in which reach of the island. You have no say in the matter. S⊕ul is part owner, and she and I have agreed that one of us will be on both sides of the island in order to maintain control :] .

♚ Kester Greyson | 17 | Gh⊕st {Me}
♚ Olivia Young | 17 | S⊕ul
♚ Aiden Collins | 18 | S t a t i c
♚ Cecilia Samuel | 16 | rain;
♚ Alice Blue | 18 | tell me a lie.

♛ Harry Styles | 18 | mountains
♛ Niall Horan | 18 | S t a t i c
♛ Liam Payne | 19 | cheetah;
♛ Zayn Malik | 19 | tell me a lie.
♛ Louis Tomlinson | 21 | BeauTied

________________

[|| Ghost ||]

F u l l N a m e :: "I was given the name Kester Kevine Greyson"

N i c k n a m e :: "Just call me Kess, Kester if you must but i
don't mind much."

G e n d e r :: "I'm a girl of course!"

D a t e of B i r t h :: "I was born on May 15th 1995,
so that makes me 17 years young."

E y e s :: Deep, Chocolate Brown.

W e i g h t :: 110 lbs.

H e i g h t :: 5"4

G a r m e n t s :: "I wear weathered
jeans, sweat shirts and modest
clothing. Band shirts, Marvel shirts, Any
and all flats. I just
can't wear heels- i practically
fall on my face every time that
i wear them. "

E t h n i c i t y :: "I'm part Korean,
part English, and i also have a
little Native American in me as well.
Yes, i'm a mutt."

I ' m a n O p e n B o o k :: Once upon a time, there lived a girl from a small town.
To explain her, what she looked like and who she was;
It'd take a long time. She was never the kind of girl to
stand out in the crowd. No. In fact, she was the girl who
was misplaced, and often times misjudged. She was different
from the other girls. Hiding beneath the crevice of a hoodie,
residing within the protection of unrevealing, blue jeans.
Taking comfort in the distance of others, but at the same time,
enjoying their company. Mixed feelings, and disorganized priorities.
But she was also independent and thoughtful. To say that she
was graceful, or perfect. That would be an overstatement.
Her fancy footing, never got her anywhere special.
And she could never quite get the best grades in school,
although they were always passing grades.
She was honest, and pretty nice, and she had a
heart of gold too. Though she often portrayed a tough guy,
who cared little for the world. While it was true,
that she could take quite a lot of harassment.
She didn't get offended easily. But one thing that she
did not stand for, was watching- or even hearing about;
her friends being bullied. In any way. You could smear
her name with acrylic, trample her with cinder blocks,
and drag her around the track on reins. But if you laid
one breath on her colleagues- then you'd have another
thing coming. And she wouldn't hesitate to kick your teeth in.
It's complicated- to say whether she was popular, or not.
Because while she didn't have any problems with the
students in school, she was never part of the 'In Crowd'.
She had her own group of friends, and they had their own
social status. This girl felt popular just with those people.
She didn't need to know every single person who'd ever
lived in a small town. She was happy with just that.
To be honest- it didn't take much to please her.
She was happy with the smallest things. Easily excited.
But not so much that it was terribly unrealistic, and annoying.
She made friends easily, although it was usually out of clumsy
accidents on her part. And then for some reason, people seemed
to like her. Maybe it was her attitude, the way she presented her self,
her appearance even? But there was something about her,
that a lot of people liked. Something that i still can't seem to
put my finger on, to this day.
When she first met new people, she was extremely mousy and shy.
She could be cold and distant. She would stutter and blush.
Laugh uncontrollably, or just give you the death stare.
Regardless of her relationship status towards an acquaintance.
Of how she felt, or what her recent thoughts had been.
It was all, out of her control. Quite the mask of multiple
personalities. Although, this was mainly just the case with the
opposite sex. Yes. It took a bit longer then others, for her to
fully grasp the subject. And grow comfortable enough to begin
casual conversation. It took a little more thought, inspiration,
courage, and strength- for this girl to pronounce even a single
letter. Because she was so afraid of making a complete idiot of
herself. Which she often did, without even saying a word.
This is where, she was often misjudged. Some might take
her for a prude fool, someone who was incredibly sheltered
and down right gullible. I guess, they were half right. Because,
let's face it. She was so terribly, socially awkward- that no one
compared to her lack of charisma. She could never defend herself
in an argument for very long, not without breaking down and
crying or yelling. She was bad at lying, acting, and pretend.
And she was so inept; when it came to slang, the modern world,
and the entertainment business.
She was no beauty guru either. Fashion, was like April Fool's day.
Make up, was like dressing for the circus. And putting her hair up
any special way, was like asking her to prepare for D-day. No, she
was quite a stranger to anything having to do with such nonsense.
Of course, she'd attempted to adapt to these changes. It seemed like,
she'd just run out of time. While most girls were practicing their french braids,
and checking their lipstick- she was chasing butterflies. Running
alongside dreams, and catching her delicate skin against blackberry briars.
Fishing in the rivers for Steelhead and Salmon. Pouncing atop crawdads in
the creek bed, and with no hesitation- though they grappled to her flesh.
But still, she did not flinch at this pain. She may have been born in a city,
but that was so far away now. She was raised within a forest.
Exploring the lush jungles of fern and moss, each day. Trekking
across mud and steep hills, and climbing the tallest trees. Feasting
on huckleberry bushes, and staining her mouth with violet blood as
she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth- and crushed
those swelling, ripe, black berries and thistle berries and salmon
berries. Singing to the green rivers, and the otters that swam threw
it's deep abyss. The cows that were scattered along the ranches and fields,
the great stags that breathed this coastal air. The coyotes that sang
alongside the girl. The minnows that shied away from the shadows,
and the grasshoppers that kicked up the leaves and nibbled on the grass.
She would catch slugs, and watch the effects of the sun on their bodies.
Sleep with dirt under her finger nails. And continue on the next day,
without brushing her long mane of wild hair.
Dark waves, that cascaded past her stomach. And at that time,
it was just one length. No layers, or bangs. Just long, sweeping,
brown hair. And eyes that were like hazel nuts. A deep maplewood,
chocolate and flecks of caramel and gold that had been left in a fire,
for too long. Skin, that was so pale. Like the sky in the early morning,
before time could manage to descend unto noon. She was so small.
And at birth, she was nearly labeled as pre-mature. As her own mother
had been. Her mother, could dress her little daughter into doll clothes even.
Those memories, are so old now though. It was so long ago,
that she last felt the comfort of her mother's protective arms. Long since her
father had bothered to make his presence known. Since the days had been
more warm then cool. No. Now, the sun's light yielded through a grey cloak
of cumulus. It was so cold and wet. Humid and moist. Days of shine,
when the sun had finally prevailed over the moon- those days were
worshipped. But not by her. She preferred Winter to Summer. Night to day.
Cold to warm. Wet to dry. Windy, to stillness. And so, you could say
that little Oregon, was perfect for her. Some parts of it at least.
All of the times that she attempted to put her hair into a braid,
she ended up getting it into knots. Every time she tried to wear
something fashionable, she looked like Pippy Longstockings.
And each time she wanted to put on make up, she'd end up looking
like a freaking Drag queen. So she ended up settling for those
unrevealing jeans, the deep hoodie, and the porcelain countenance.
No make up, no nothing. Nothing but her pure, true, face.
I imagined that it saved her from a bad reputation and many other days of lethargy.
Above anything else, she loved to dream. And each night,
she welcomed the sleep. The sleep that brought her imaginations
to life. Except when they didn't… Because something they didn't.
Sometimes, she would wake up. And she'd be so afraid; because
bad dreams have a thing for sneaking up on when you least expect it.
One of her greatest fears, was waking up alone after a nightmare.
You know the aftermath, of when you wake up from a dream?
The dead silence, the darkness. How hard it is, to grasp that you
live here and now. That it was all just a terrible, terrible dream.
And it feels like there's no one there, no one in the whole world who
can understand just how scared you are. No one cares. No one knows.
No one. That's what she's afraid of. Because she knows that once she
wakes up, no one will care. They won't be there to hold her. To love her.
To tell her, that it was only a dream. And that they were still there.
Beside her. That this was real. So she fell asleep, grasping her pillow
close to her chest. Pretending it was someone who cared.
And she knew that when she woke up, the pillow would still be there.
The pillow wouldn't leave her. Not like so many others before in her life.
So many people…Yes. She was lonely. But it wasn't as torturous as you
might think. She quite enjoyed the loneliness. That fact that she was able
to think for herself, and breathe by herself. She didn't have to worry
about coming up with a witty comeback. She just had the wind,
the stars, and her independence. That was enough. The smallest
pleasures in life, were enough for her.
Her past is much too long and windy, to take into account
at the moment. Truth is, there are so many twists and turns that
happen in life. There are right and left turns, and sharp corners.
And you never know where they're gonna take you. Sometimes,
you end up in big accidents- and it takes a long time to get back
on your feet. So that you can continue taking the risks.
And with her; she had been in so many accidents,
that you wouldn't believe she could still keep going.
But she wasn't the kind of girl to live in the past.
She didn't want anyone's pity. A lot of people became
friends with her out of it- and she hated that. Pity.
She would look to be someone worthwhile. But not out of pity.
She hoped, dreamed, and strived, to be someone great.
A scientist, or a teacher. Someone her mother would be proud of.
Someone. She would be someone.
She was headstrong, and impatient.
Stubborn, and she had this temper- like a bull's. Worse, even. Yes.
She was quite the piece of work. Reckless, but brave.
And she only ever showed this side of hers, towards the people
that she thought she could trust. Once she opened up, you'd meet
this wild, sad, little girl. A cheeky, crazy, brave, little girl.
A soldier, who pretended to be strong. But secretly, she wanted
so badly- to just let go. Because, she feared that if she stopped
thinking for one second… That all of that happiness just might
slip through her fingers like sand. Like dust, and change, and
time. She was fun, and silly- some would say that she was arrogant,
or ignorant. Bordering on vain, and narcissistic. Because she tried to
hide the fact that she could be self conscious too.
People who didn't know her well enough, would that she
was prefect. I don't think that she was narcissistic though-
that's not who she is. That's not the kind of
girl, that she ever wanted to be. I think that her friends were just playing
around with their new choice of vocabulary… I hope it. But i can't really
vouch for her properly, because it's just my word against theirs'.
Because i am her. Because this girl that i've spent the last few minutes
sweeping over, defines me in ever way. She is the armor, the mirror, the
Tempurpedic mattress. She is me. I am the reclusive, selfish, brave,
socially awkward, clumsy, sad, little girl.
Is it that hard to believe? That i seriously have this much time on
my hands? to write 10+ freaking paragraphs on myself. But i tried
my best to explain my imperfections. I'm really not all that great of
a person. I'm not saying that i'm comparable to a skinhead. But,
i'm no Kate Middleton either. I make so many mistakes, that
sometimes it hurts to admit them. And one more thing. This story,
isn't a sob story about how pathetic my life is- was. I'm not here to
reveal my scars, or the last time i got a D on a report card. This isn't
some 'Days or Our Lives' crap. I just, wanted to write you a story.
Because i thought that you'd enjoy it. Now, Kester is a night owl, she can stay up as
long as you want- but in the mornings she just can't get up. It's next to
impossible getting her up, and if you do then she's moody and grumpy.
She loves the idea of stepping out of her comfort zone but fears it at the
same time.
Her dislikes? Wet floors, spiders, the sound of metal against metal,
roller coasters, and this exclusive list of foods: Olives, Mushrooms,
Peppers, and Onions. She's not picky by any means, if she was forced to
eat those foods she would but since civilization is still intact she sticks
to not eating them. And her likes? She has a guilty pleasure every once
in a while for cheesy romance films but prefers not admitting it. She
loves watching scary movies, watching the snow fall or the rain fall while
she's wrapped up in a blanket with a warm cup of tea in her hands. Cozy. She
loves the look of the mountains and the trees in the distance. The reflection
of the water and the smell of rain or sea salt. She loves a variety of foods,
though she gets embarrassed easily when she's eating because she's just so clumsy.
Kester always seems to be dropping her food right before she's about to pop it in
her mouth. Her favorite thing to eat is a tough one, tacos is probably the answer.
But she also enjoys anything from the Olive Garden (especially teramisu),
steak, and especially asian foods. Her favorite place to
be is the beach on any day. Collecting agates and sea shells, digging for clams
or pumping up crawdad from the sand shooters Kester's grand father has.
Her grandmother calls her a waterdog since she could literally live in the water
if she wanted to.

I ' m a C l o s e d B o o k :: I don't really have a history worth repeating,
it was mostly normal though there were some bumps along the rode.
There was no lantern lighting my way through the path, not the
whole way at least. But it here it goes... I was born in Yuba City,
California. My Mom and Dad had been married for about two years,
and after leaving the air force- my Dad left for Pennsylvania.
Where his parents owned a huge farm. He was going to take over
the family business. I mean, the farm was worth millions-
who would pass that up? So who could blame him for leaving?
And my Mom, followed him. Moving across the country for him.
Now, at the time- neither of them had a well-paying job. But,
they were young too. They had their entire lives ahead of them.
My Mom was only 22 when she had me. So, the possibilities
of a good job were endless. They had it all. The cute, little,
house. Located in the little town, Red Lion.
I can just barely remember the buildings. The metal, red, lion.
Painted in crimson. And a fearless look in it's lifeless eyes.
Two statues of it, stood on either side of the entrance to city hall.
Er- the town center. And it was as if they guarded the building.
Anyways, my parents were ready to face the world-
because they were together. They loved each other,
and that's all that mattered. Sounds sweet, hunh?
Well, all of that good luck- it wouldn't last for long.
No, happy endings never do. Do they? It's just... It's not fair.
So, my Dad and my Mom and myself, we moved down to Pennsylvania.
And we settled into a little house of our own,
just a few minutes from the farm. My Dad started working
with my Grandpa. And they worked together for a few months.
But then, they had this fight. They never thought alike.
My Dad wanted to industrialize the farm. He wanted everything
to be done with huge machines. He wanted to make it all a big business,
a franchise, a corporation. My Grandpa, wanted to continue with
the old ways. He wanted to hand clean the beans and the vegetables.
And he wanted to make the food they sold, completely hand made
and traditional. Not the processed junk. But the two couldn't meet
half way. And they had a big falling out. One day, they were very close.
And the next day- my Dad went home. And he didn't come down
to the farm much after that. One morning, he just sort of-
hit his head? Well he must have, because all i remember-
was everything going down hill from there.
My Dad started to borrow money, that he couldn't pay back.
And for the next four years, i only ever remembered him
sleeping on the moss-green couch. He started smoking,
and drinking. And i can only remember him down in the basement.
Feet propped up on his desk, leaning back at a 70 degree angle.
A cigarette in his left hand, and the other controlling the mouse
to an ancient computer. From which he played Free Cell and
Poker and Solitaire. There were cigarette butts on the ground
and overflowing from his ash can. And there were unpaid bills
and eviction notices, in piles, all over the room- up to the ceiling.
Stuffed within file cabinets and littering the floor. Crumpled up
pieces of paper, and old business ideas. The smell of smoke,
the smell of papers and ink, the smell of rain water. And the
smell of old books too.
Sometimes, the power would go off. Sometimes,
my Mom and i would take showers, in the public locker rooms,
where my Mom worked- because we hadn't paid the water bills,
or the electric bills. I would wear ragged hand-me-downs from
GoodWill- like over-alls, and spaghetti-stained t-shirts.
But i'm not complaining about that. I was happy with a shower,
no matter where it came from. No matter how... Shameful.
I could live without electricity- it was better then no roof over
my head, right? And i didn't care that i had to wear the most
cheap clothes. It was better then no clothes. Right? Well-
the most vivid memories that come to mind, from when i was little...
My parents. Cedar arch-frame. The one that lead into the kitchen.
The floor was a sickly white color, that was almost green.
Like a hint of mint. Cedar-colored, yellow, planks for the hard-
wood flooring. Mom on the left side of the arch. Dad on the right.
Yelling. Cursing. Hitting. And i would try to break up the arguments.
The fights. I'd literally, stan in the middle. And i'd yell right
alongside them. But they... They never heard me. No one,
could hear me. I felt so alone. And it was so frustrating.
No one listened to me. Why didn't they listen? So then,
i tried a new tactic. I would stand there, and i would scream
until my throat would burst. Until it felt like someone had taken
a cheese grader to my esophagus. And i would stamp my feet.
"Stop! Stop! STOP!" Sometimes, i would grow so tired-
that i would just whisper. But that never helped anything either.
And then, i would set my feet firmly on the ground.
And i would hit my parents. I would punch my Dad's stomach,
and i would try to push him away. I would try to push my
Mom away too. But, a seven-year-old girl... She doesn't have
much strength against a 30-year-old man. Or a 27-year-old woman.
It was like, i was invisible. Like no one knew, that i existed.
And it was... Terrible. No matter what i did- they never saw me.
Never, acknowledged me. I was alone. And it was almost a relief,
when they both turned to me, and told me to go to me room.
So i would stand in my room, and just try to distract myself.
Though i couldn't help myself from crying. Sometimes,
i would curl up into a little ball- and cry myself to sleep.
Because it felt like the bed would protect me. The blankets,
were like warm arms. Embracing me. The pillow,
was like someone who heard my cries. And wiped those
tears away. And the warmth, was as good as a beating heart.
The height from the floor- was just like a skyscraper.
And it kept me safe from the Boogie Man and all of the bad people.
My Dad had a bad temper. And that's probably where i got mine.
But i was always better at controlling it then him. One time,
he became angry with me, because i lost a game of Connect-
Four on Christmas. I'd been just five-years-old. I was playing
against my Mom. All i was interested in, was playing with the
pretty black and red chips. My Mom told me, that when she was
pregnant with me- my Dad punched her. In the stomach.
They'd gotten into an argument, about whether or not he had
the right to invite his friends over without asking her. And he
told her, that she was embarrassing him.
That she wasn't being a good wife. My Mom forgave him.
And ya' know what? I forgave him too. I just can't help
myself from loving him. If i don't love him, then who will?
You, have people out there. People who would remember you
if you died. People who think about you, worry about you,
care about you. I do too. But my Dad, who does he have?
No one. No one but me. One out of seven billion people in
this world. And i don't think i can find it in myself,
to leave him to the dogs. Most kids who's parents get divorced,
they at least get to see their father once a day. Once a week.
Once a month. Once a year. Or every holiday.
Their Dads remember their birthdays. And he keeps a promise.
But i never got that. One time, my Dad promised he'd come
to my Soccer game. The game had been on my birthday,
and he'd called me a week in advance... He never showed up.
No. He disappeared for a year.
Even if he told me how much of an embarrassment i was to the
family for getting bad grades. Even if he slapped me around a little.
And even if he was never a good father. He still borrows money today.
He's not good for much. And he's so pathetic. So sad.
The only thing he's good at, it schmoozing his way out of trouble,
and running. He's really good at running. And lying too.
He doesn't call much. No He chooses when he wants to be a Dad.
One day, my Mom had had enough of the lies, the cheating, the debt,
the physical and the emotional abuse. And so, she divorced him.
I admire her, for her strength. And we moved across the country,
to Oregon. Where i grew up. I was just seven at the time.
When my parent's divorced. And well, we made a new life.
My Mom and me. And it feels like the down hill era has come to a halt.
Like it's all, finally, over.

O r i e n t a t i o n :: I'm straight, thank you.

S w a y i n g F e e l i n g s :: "I'm not really up to picking favorites all of the time. But i'll admit that when i first heard of One Direction, the whole thing seemed stupid. They all looked like a bunch of twelve-year-old boys with music that the radio seriously over played. But then i got to know them from watching Youtube, and as far as i can see they seem like a bunch of normal- your average bunch of guys. And i hope that it's not just a facade they put up. I don't think it is. Anyways, i don't really have any hardcore feelings for anyone."

T a l e n t s :: "Music might as well by a substitute for the blood that pumps my heart, for as long as i can remember i was surrounded by music and it has always been apart of my life. No matter what dream i chased music was always int he back of my mind. All i want to do is sing, and i know that i'm not bad. People seem to think that i'm good so- i hope that they're right. And that it's not just my imagination. Because i love singing."

T h e m e S o n g ::

- Love the Way you Lie Part lll. by Skylar Grey

- I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace

- Innocent by Taylor Swift

S t a t u s :: "Single- but i'm not very good at talking to other guys.I start to stutter, sometimes i giggle uncontrollably (even if i don't have feelings for them), and then sometimes i just spazz out."

P a s t L o v e r s :: "No, i seem to always mess up before anything good can happen."

W h a t I L o o k F o r :: "Hmm, someone who will promise to hold me i guess. Someone that is thoughtful and can trust me, someone that is loyal and faithful. One kiss could last an eternity, just promise that you'll never let go of me. :) "

W h a t ' s L e f t :: "There isn't much left to tell, i'm a girl- and that should explain it all i hope."

[|| Ghost ||]

[|| Ghost ||]

- Ӄｅｓｔｅｒ Ｇｒｅｙｓｏｎ ☂

∞{Clothes} {Song} {Emotionally Drained & Wounded} {Status-Single/Crushless} {Location- Home-->Plane-->Island}∞

The weather was really nice today- and i was so glad. Usually, the days are always so cold. Where ever i go, it seems the rain follows me. But i don't mind much, i prefer the cold over the warm. The winter over the summer. Dark to light. Night to day. I'm not emo, or goth, or whatever. It's just that the feeling of warmth- feels more like i'm being smothered then cradled.
I'd spent about four hours packing. Just packing. Clothes, feminine "supplies", brushes, hair clips, shampoos, and shoes. Even a few books. It was so hard though- i think i spent the majority of the time, just trying to choose what i wanted to wear. I'm no 'fashion diva'. I've never quite grasped the ways of properly choosing what to wear. I'm the girl who wears sweats, a hoodie, and trainers. Or faded jeans, and a ponytail. Oh, and before you ask- no, i can not do anything with my hair. It's not that i can't- it's that i just mentally am incapable of doing anything to my hair. I can braid- but that's about it. My wild mane of dark curls in nearly uncontrollable, and i've never been able to figure out how to french braid. Every time i try, i get my hair into knots. I barely learned how to put my hair into a bun. I guess i focused on other things as i grew up, besides the appearance of my hair. I was the girl who spent the hours of her childhood playing video games on her ancient Super Nintendo, her Gamecube, and her Gameboy Advance. The girl who spent hours on the windy beaches of the West Coast, and found comfort from the mossy scenery of the moist forests. I went clam digging, fished in the rivers for rainbow trout and stergin. I pounced in the rivers with no hesitation, grasping crawdad- no flinch as they grappled their claws onto my skin. I grew grand gardens with my Mom, picking bowls full of cherry tomatoes and long beans and squash. I picked wild blackberries, staining my lips with violet blood; and i spent hours swimming in the green rivers- pretending i was an otter or a pokemon. I fell asleep outside, watching the stars and counting all of the ones that could fly. When i was little- we were so poor, that i didn't care what i wore. I didn't even notice. Hell, i wore freaking overalls half of the time. Worn sneakers and old t-shirts with ChefBoyardee stains. My Mom and i would go outside, and i would plant the tiger lily's with her- handing her the bulbs and watching as she gently patted them into the earth. And when my parents divorced, i found comfort in exploring the acres of mossy forests where my grand parents lived.
And I remember all of this, as I finally rest my decison on pale blue short-shorts. A grey sweater, and a tank top. I pull my hair back into a side-ponytail, because I know that it will only become incredibly frizzy if i don't. Curling the ends and pulling out a few strands to frame my face a bit. While I stand in the bath room, I look back at my reflection. These aren't the eyes of a young cheerleader, or a soccer captain. A homecominga queen, or a Valivictorian. Though i was once voted homecoming princess in my freshman year. I'm not popular, in fact- I tend to keep refuge under a hoodie and long unrevealing jeans.
I know that even if I find myself unable to talk in proper conversation with anyone, Olivia will be there. My best friend. She and I telepathically signed up around the same time, and somehow we both got accepted to go. But It's a complete relief, and it makes me ecstatic.
I set to work on what ever sediment of make up I'll bother putting on. Just like with the clothes, with my hair- I can barely put on make up without making myself look like a freaking circus clown. And I keep this in mind, not to over-do it- as I slide on the smidgen of water-proof eye liner under my bottom lashes. A swipe of water-proof mascara, and a few dots of cover-up, where my acne refuses to cooperate. With a sigh, I take in the full picture. Semi-pleased with what I see before me, but there's something missing... I slide on my black-framed glasses then. That's better. "Hey, troll." I look away, at the open door-frame. And a smile plays along my face, it's my Mom's fiancee'. Jim. His 4 o'clock shadow, and thin, grey hair. With fleck sof black and white, and a callick. He's much taller then me, stocky and thick like a bear. "Whattya' want, Chief Pop-a-squat?" We nicknamed him this, because he has a habit of informing us of his bowel movements. He's rolling his eyes, a dark grin on his face as he replies, "You're mom's waitin' for ya' outside."
"Okay. I'll be right there erm- could you help me carry some of my stuff?"
"What do you need help with carrying? You'll be gone for three days!"
"Hey, in case you forgot- i'm a girl, not a troll." He's rolling his eyes again, before a groan escapes him. And he's trudging down the hallway like a little kid. But helping me anyways, as i direct what bags i'll need help with.
"Jeez, what are you bringing, a textbook?"
"Well, what if i need it?" I'm the kind of girl, who over packs when I feel the need to impress. And I thought that two encyclopedias of the human body, and a math textbook might be interesting to read while we're on the flight? If we were going to a hotel, for nothing but a family reunion- then I would have brought a tiny duffel bag and a good book. But... I felt like I needed to be prepared for anything, if I was going to meet them. Jim is back to his grunts and groans as he throws my bags into the backseat of my Mom's car. And I give him a light hug, since it's still kind of awkward between us. We're not related, and it's kind of hard to accept that my Mom isn't married to my biological father anymore. Even though it's almost been nine years...
"You ready hon' ?" She says this. She's an original brunette, like me. But she's bleached and highlighted her hair so much, that you wouldn't believe it- not unless you looked where the bleach wasn't able to get- near her roots. She has crow feet, near the corners of her eyes. And wrinkles and bags under her eyes too. She's not in great shape- but she works so much, that she can never find time to take care of herself. I'm nodding, and Jim is waving goodbye at us. My Mom makes him promise that he won't shoot the neighborhood children while she's away, and reluctantly he juts out his lower lip and nods with a frown. Gosh, he's so immature. He's almost 37 years old, yet he day dreams about that stuff. Killing people who annoy him- guess i can't blame him? I'm looking out the window now. Admiring, one last time- and remembering each square-inch of earth. I always knew, that i wasn't meant for this small town. I won't let it be meant for me. I'll be someone- someone worth remembering. Someone not like my father. I'll be someone. And the green forests, the wild rivers, the klaediscope of grey sunshine and silver rain- rushes past me. But i'll remember it. I'll always remember it...

___ 8 Hours Later___

"Wow...Real leather." I'm poking the chairs in the private jet, and finding deep intrigue in them. Don't get me wrong, I've been in an airplane before. Just not with um- them. And at the thought of them, I hesitate before looking at each one of them. First, at the tops of their heads. Their eyes- which I only glance at because i'm afraid of giving them the death stare. Their noses, and their lips. Their chests. And then, the entire picture. I have to catch myself from just sitting there and staring at them- but the problem is, I have no idea what to say. How do I casually lean over and ask them about their day? Because I know that I'll make a complete fool out of myeslf if I even try. I'll probably end up falling out of my chair. I've already hit my head on the window of the passenger plane, just looking away. And I have a premonition, that if i even attempt to stand- that I'll end up falling face first into one of them. So I just keep silent, continuing my train of deep thought over what i'll say. Believe me, I've already googled the questions or topics of chat I could possible pass over. I've Yahoo'ed and Bing'd it too. Because i'm just that much of a dork. But ya' know that moment, when someone asks you your favorite movie- and you suddenly forget every movie you've ever seen? Well, that's what's happening to me. I'm so caught up in trying to think of what to say- that I can't even think straight. I notice, that a few girls are completely calm. Spontaneously sparking up conversation- and i'm mentally gaping at them.
How can they manage to do that? When I can barely think of a freaking letter to start off my sentence. A letter! But they're all so pretty- no wonder they're so confident. Who cares, when you're that drop-dead gorgeous? Olivia hasn't said much, I'm guessing she's just as shy as me right now. I'm biting my lip, and I finally remember one of the suggestions on Yahoo Answers. "I..."
But I don't finish my sentence. Instead, the pilot cuts me off as the plane trembles gently. "We're experiencing strong turbulence, please find your seats and put your safety belts back on." I blinked a few times. Just some turbulence. There was nothing wrong with that. My Mom's fiancee' is an electrician, but he also has his pilot's license. And he's taught me a few things about flying. Turbulence, is nothing to worry about- as long as your pilot know what he's doing. The plane is kind of silent for a few minutes, and then the silence dies as the pilot reassures us that everything is back on track. And that, we're nearly to the Islands. A few people look over at me, the ones who'd noticed that I had been about to speak. Or at least- I think they heard me. But before I could even contemplate finishing what I was about to say, the plane shuddered.
And I caught my breath as i clutched the arm chairs of the plane. It bursts forward, and then back. And this insane beeping sounds screams in the room. The pilot starts trying to contact other pilots, other planes. Yelling into the speakers, "Engine down! Engine down! Engine is failing and we're clogged with volcanic ash! Can anyone hear me?! I repeat our engine has failed! I-I don't think I can land this! Oh Sh**! Our right wing is gone!! Some one! Some one answer me! Help us!!" His words become fuzzy, and all twelve of us- have our heads spinning to the right. As the right wing is torn off, like ripppped paper. Grey wires stick out from the fraction, and the sky billows with black smoke and red fire. I only get to see a glance of the wing torpedoeing down into the deep blue ocean. before it dissapears completely from view. Someone screams, and the we're spiraling down, following the right wing and descending into the waters. I'm squeezing the arm rest with white knuckles, and clenching my jaw. Holding onto my seat for dear life, because i know i'm gonna die. And not only that, but i'm so terrified. I can feel my lungs and every organ in my body- coming out of my mouth. I feel like throwing up, and i can't even hear myself breathe- I can't hear my heart beating. Everyone is screaming, or just trying to get through this without saying anything. I don't understand, how you could find the time or the collectiveness to scream at a time like this? I'm staying zipped. This is worse then a roller coaster ride- I hate roller coasters. And this is a thousand times worse then anything i've ever been on. All I can smell- all I can taste, is the sea salt, the sweat, the smoke, and the vomit.
I open my eyes once more, wishing I was back at home. Wanting the comfort of the green forest, the cold rivers, and the scent of Lilacs. The taste of steelhead and wild blackberries. Wanting the fun of catching crawdad in the rivers, and the feeling of my Mom's and Jim's arms wrapped around me in good bye this morning. Wishing I could go back- but i don't have a time machine to do so. And it makes me want to cry. But i don't cry anymore- not in front of other people. I look up, and i see the flight attendant. She's screaming bloody murder. She looks Chinese, maybe? Her hair is much darker then mine- well it's black. And her skin is pasty white. her lips are the color of a red dragon, and her eyes are black as steel. And i see Liam. He's the first one i saw i guess- i mean, he was sitting across from me. He seems equally frightened. A change from his usual, warm- and soft expression. And the second it takes for our gazes to lock on to each other, for our visions to collide- the sound of the cockpit being ripped off adverts my attention. The roar of fresh air rakes acrossed us. And the wind grazes my body. I see the blue ocean, and in the not-so-far off distance- is that an island i see? A flash of green leaves, beige palm-wood, and white sand. And then- i close my eyes for the last time. I can't breathe, because the wind is forcing itself down my throat. And everything suddenly blacks out...

___Three Days Later___

The sound of sparks of fire awaken me from my dreams- it was such a long dream. Most of it, was just darkness. But there were some parts, that were so happy. Some parts that consisted of fragments of my happy memories. Ane then there were some of the sad moments, and then there were some well- creative? Dreams... My vision is blurry, and my face wrinkles from the scent of smoke and gasoline. Ugh... I feel terrible. But why- why do I feel like this? Where am I? Why would Jim build a fire outside this early? How long have I been sleeping? Why does it smell like gasoline? There are so many questions running through my head. The ground is cold, leafy, wet. Why? I bring my left hand to my face and massage my drowsy countenance; my temples, my closed eyes, the bridge of my nose. But then- the memories start coming back to me. Everything is coming back to me. Packing , driving, flying, talking, crashing. Dreaming, burning... Burning?
The air is sticky and thick, and I push myself up, without hesitation. Forcing myself to sit on the wet rocks. Rocks? I reach into every last piece of determination in me, willing myself to stand. But a small yelp courses through me as I realize this pain.
I look down at my leg, and gasp at the sudden jolt in me. What little white flesh that still hangs from the gash is melting away. And i'm sobbing in pain, clenching my jaw and punching the ground- it hurts so much. Salty tears sting my eyes, and there's some sort of brown substance drying along the wet leaves. Gasoline- I think? And blood. Definitely blood. I'm gasping for air, as my mind comprehends the pain. It's nearly enough to make me pass out, but my body has adjusted to the humidity enough- enough to slowly crawl towards a tiny creek bed a few feet away.
There's a lot of smoke, and bits of ash in the air. And I realize that there are a few unconscious bodies laying around me
Sand and salty rain cover my glasses in sediment. And I'm clenching my jaw shut, a few more quite sobs escaping me as I reach for the blue. I'm releasing a long- shaky breath of relief. Letting it drag as i dare hold my breath. I'm not really sure if this is going to hurt or not. We're so far from the ocean, and I can't even hear it's licking of the bitter sand. The water might have been filtered enough, to make it more clear and edible.
The water is gentle and cool against my charred wounds. And I'm gasping, releasing short instances of anguish as i drop the remainder of the water onto the flesh. I'm cleaning my wounds now- my breaths much less shaky than before. My thoughts a little less rushed. I think I've found the strength to stand- but half my body still feels cold and numb. And I look around myself- for miles and miles... There's only darkness. Only a kaleidoscope of greenery and black. It all screeches that I can not run away. That there is no running away. Maybe, I can help the others. I noticed that there were at least two or three people who were still passed out... Hopefully it was passed out- instead of dead. But what about everyone else? What about Olivia? Oh God... Olivia. Is she still alive? Worry nips at the edges of my belly, and I feel like throwing up. I can't even imagine her decomposing body. Not Olivia...

[S⊕ul]

Full Name :: Olivia Young

Nick Name :: "My Mom calls me Bitter Boo..." >.>

Gender :: "What are you smoking?" Female.

Date of Birth :: "I graced this Earth with my presence on May 13th, 1995."

Eyes :: "Usually they're a bright-ish blue, the color of the Pacific Ocean."

Weight :: 185

Height :: 5'7"

Garments :: "T-shirts. Jeans. Capris. Converse. The simple stuff. Nothing too low on the torso, nothing above my knees. Call me weird, but I don't feel the need to dress like the the chick you'd pick up off the corner to have fun with. I usually wear converse, or a pair of boots when it gets too cold or rainy. I own one pair of flats. And always to top of my outfit of the day, I wear my school hoodie or my BVB jacket.

Ethnicity :: "I was born and bred in America. My
great-great-grandparents on my mom's side came
from Germany as did some relatives from my dad's.
I'm also Irish and Scottish from him too."

I'm an Open Book ::
WIP, but what's wrong with a surprise? ;)

I'm a Closed Book ::
Most people would expect a person to recite their history as an entirely good thing,
or a bad one. They're either pessimistic, or too happy to care. Hers had it's bad
points, and it's good points. Even when everything had gone wrong, she tried to focused on the good points. Although it wasn't always easy. She wanted to be happy, and that's what she did. She was happy.

"I've never really told anyone in full detail how life was before. I gave vague details, maybe letting out a small things that people may have thought was huge. I didn't want to bug people with my problems, so instead of focusing on me, I made sure everyone else was alright. But if you really want to know.... I was born in a small town on Nevada. I mean, you could blink and you'd miss it. I can't really remember much about Fallon, since I was only there for four years of my life. I was oblivious to any problems my Mom and Dad had if they had any. At some point, Mom and moved out and lived in another home closer to the school. I never thought it was weird, I knew they were separated, but I thought it was normal. The day that I found out something was wrong will be forever etched into my brain. My brother and I were dropped off at my dad's house for the day. He wasn't there, and our half-brother, Alan, was. Since Dad wasn't there, mom wanted to take us back, but after a phone call with Dad, Alan was told to keep us inside. Eventually Dad got to the house, and he and Mom started to argue outside. Alan kept Cody and I inside, his arm wrapped around our chests. I remember staring up at the window on the door, light filtering through the golden curtain. After that, there;s a blank in my mind. The last thing that I can recall, was sitting out on the front porch, crying as I hugged my knees, and siren wailing in the distance gradually getting louder. After that, Mom wanted to move away from Fallon. She told me that it was because she hated the way people drove there. But even back then, I knew the real reason. She wanted to get away from Dad. Her and Dad believed in letting us make our own choices. So one day, Dad took Cody and me to the park. He sat down and told us what was going on. How Mom was leaving the town. And how we could choose which parent to stay with. And before you get your panties in a twist about how you shouldn't make a child choose which parent to live with, they weren't doing that. They were giving us the choice, if we didn't want to make it, then they would. I felt like that whatever I would decide, I would betraying the other. I stared at the grass, and told Dad i wanted to go with Mom. I glanced up at his face and I could feel my four-year-old heart breaking. He looked so stricken....I hated the fact that I had done that to him. But, my decision was made, and off my Mom and I went to Elko.

Up In Elko, we lived with my Mom's boyfriend. He had kids of his own, two sons. I was shy at first, never really said much. After a while, I warmed up to them and we became a family. For a while, things there were good. We lived in a place we called The Compound, an hour away from any civilization. Her boyfriend worked for NDOT, and there were three other houses with other workers too. My mom had a nice job. I may have only had one friend, but at least I had one. Her name was Erin, and we wanted to do everything together. We were almost inseparable, except for at school. While she was my only friend, she had a nice group of them. They didn't like me. At recess, I'd try to hang out with Erin, but her friends would tell her to run away from me, so she would. I'd chase her at first, thinking it was a game. But after a pleading with her, I finally gave up, and sat down on my own, feeling tears burn my eyes as a hurt 2nd grader. On the long bus ride home, everything was fine between us. Before long, things went down hill again. Mom and her boyfriend started arguing. One minute, we would be rough housing on the ground, and then they'd be yelling at each other. For a while, I would just sitting there, tears welling in my eyes, listening. Once it got to be too much, I'd get up and run to go squeeze my little body into the smallest space I could. The yelling would stop, and they'd come looking for me. I knew it was cowardly to run away, but I think even at that young of an age, I subconsciously knew that if i ran and hid, that they would stop fighting. That's all I had wanted, was for them to go back to being happy and goofing off. At least nothing went physical...well, not while i was around. The summer before 4th grade, there was an incident. Around 4th of July, we were setting off fireworks, when one went astray. It crashed into the nearby hillside and caught the dry brush alight. All the adults went scrabbling around to put it out. There was a bug debate about it, and we were probably going to move. Mom's boyfriend had set it off, but hoping to save his job, she took the blame for him. I started 4th grade, and a few weeks into the first quarter, it was decided that we had to move. Spring Creek. A mere fifteen minutes away from Elko, just over the hill. I liked Spring Creek. It wasn't isolated like The Compound. I was nervous about starting school and finding friends. I did find two friends, Becca and Shelbie. We were like the 3 Musketeers. That was, until the day Becca got pissed at me. She claimed i insulted her family, when i had done no such thing. We had a falling out, but her and Shelbie were still friends. Shelbie was torn between the two of us, and i told her if she wanted to hang out with Becca it was okay. But Becca didn't like Shelbie hanging out with me. She was one of those people where the world revolved around her. Eventually, Shelbie stopped talking to Becca too. Then it was just the two of us. The arguing still happened, but it didn't seem to happen as often as it used to. A weight drifted from my shoulders, and I thought everything would be good again. I was eleven around this time. It was around Shelbie's birthday, and she invited me to go out camping with her. I loved to camp, so I begged my mom to go. It was Summer, and my brother was visiting. I knew she's say yes, she usually did when it came to me spending time with friends. We had a blast, but I guess I missed some important even while I was gone. There was another fight. I used to wonder why they always fought, and after a few years of living with him, I realized why. He drank. I always saw him with a beer can or bottle in hand. Perpetually drunk. He ended up throwing a bottle at her, and it shattered against the wall. I learned that he also head-butted her. My brother ended up going into the closet and calling 911 on her cell phone. I'm glad I went camping with Shelbie that day. Mom ordered me to start packing up my room, but subtly. She didn't want him finding out and starting another rampage. It was just another hot day, everything was calm. Then there was yelling. Mom came into my room in tears ordering me to pack a bag real quick and told my brother to do the same. We piled into her car and she was calling her friend from the driver's seat. He came storming out, screaming at her through the open window. As she was backing out, his hand darted out real quick and snatched the phone from her ear, slamming it into the ground. I was scared. We stayed away for a few days, before my got a hold of my dad to drive up from Fallon to come and get us for the rest of the Summer. We went back to the house when we knew he'd be at work to gather all the things that we would need. She stayed and packed up our belongings and put them in the Penske truck. A couple things didn't make it with us, like one of my cats. She had wandered from the house that day, and Mom couldn't wait for her. We also left our dog, the one we had before moving to Elko. But I had one animal, my other cat. I cried when Mom said she didn't have the other two. We drove to Oregon, to live with my grandma and grandpa. I had to make new friends...again.

I thought that everything would be okay now, that we would finally be done with all the arguing. But Mom and Grandma started up their own arguments. I stayed in my room most of the time, trying to escape everything as much as I could. Eventually Mom had enough, and we moved out to Corvallis, with her new boyfriend. I was leaving behind the best friends I ever had. Kester was so much like me it was scary. She was the one i ranted with, the one I nerded out with. Maddy was someone who I could tell everything too, someone who understood me. My fellow bookworm. Daisy, the innocent little angel, who was sometimes to innocent for her own good. Kiera, silly little Kiera. The horse lover, who put in her own odd comment every now and then. I couldn't leave them behind. But I was forced. I hated my Mom for a while. She promised me she wouldn't make me change schools again. But she broke her promise, as everyone does eventually. Her4 new boyfriend had four kids, and they were brats. The whined and complained and screamed and yelled. They had no respect for my mom or me. Not even their own dad. I hated it there. I wanted to go back to grandma's. Mom and her new BF had been drinking and got into their own argument. Mom started shoving the things we had brought over into boxes. She told me to pack up our stuff and put as much of it in the car as I could. She got in the car and went back to grandma's. She was driving to fast, and was drifting too much. I gripped the arm rest tightly, squeaking out exclamations every time I thought she was going to fast or the yellow line was almost in the center of the car. Thankfully, nothing happened. I was worried for my Mom. Nothing seemed to be going right for her. Since we moved to Oregon, she could find a job and her luck with men wasn't good. I just wanted her to be happy.

Another guy came into the picture, but he seemed different. He was a strange one, that's for sure. His kids were all grown up, one even had their own kid. A couple of days after we met, Mom spent the night. I thought she was moving things too fast, and I worried for her. I didn't want her heart broken again. On Valentine's Day in the French class I was in, I made them a card. For him it had said, "Break her heart and I'll break your face." Mrs. Ross didn't even look at me weird when i asked her how to say that in French. It was me, that was the explanation she needed. We moved in with him around the time that I gave that to them. After about a year of knowing each other, they got married. They found a house in Veneta so I could stay in that district (he had been living in Eugene). He made her happy, and I knew he wouldn't break her heart. I was happy for her, and I was finally happy."

Note: Most of it is made up :P

Orientation :: "Straight as a ruler."

Swaying Feelings :: "It's not nice to pick favorites, it makes the others feel left out. And honestly, before I really even knew them, I hated them. Their single was seriously over played on the radio, and they looked like another boy band made to seem perfect and swoon girls all over the world. But my friend Kester urged me to watch some video from the X-Factor, and I could help but laugh. They seem like any other boy you'd meet, but for all we know, it is some facade that their management cooked up really well. I hope not though."

Talents :: I seem to have a knack for a few things. I touch something, it's broken in a few minutes. Try to be nice, person get's irritated. Those kinds of things. I'm a master at being annoying and a jerk. I can play the flute as well, but in my opinion, I suck."

Theme Song ::

Someone Who Cares- Three Days Grace

In the End- BVB

Status :: "Single Pringle! Nobody wants to get with all this...Nor do i want to get with any of that."

From Before :: "Nope. Nada. Zip. Zilch. All boys have cooties anyways, so why would there have been an ex?"

What I Look For :: "Tall, dark, and handsome! ...Not really. Though I do like a guy who's tall, and has dark hair, and he would probably be handsome....But I want someone to goof off with, and play videos games. Someone who likes me for me."

What's Left :: "My little Pony...my little pony..."








OOC: Grr, it sounds stupid because I'm irritated at how long it took...

[breeze']

Hey. So, I thought I would just say hi. Oh, and post my form... Okay so here it is... Ps. Do I decided what part of the island I am on or do youu. Alsooo would you like me too play a male. Anyway here goes nothing... Introducing- Aiden Ellie Collins. Needs loads of editing and more information but here is the basis.

❝ＹＯＵ ＫＮＯＷ ＹＯＵ'ＲＥ ＩＮ ＬＯＶＥ ＷＨＥＮ ＹＯＵ ＣＡＮ'Ｔ ＦＡＬＬ ＡＳＬＥＥＰ
ＢＥＣＡＵＳＥ ＲＥＡＬＩＴＹ ＩＳ ＦＩＮＡＬＬＹ ＢＥＴＴＥＲ ＴＨＡＮ ＹＯＵＲ ＤＲＥＡＭＳ❞

ｉ ｃａｎ ｂｅａｔ ｔｈｅ ｎｉｇｈｔ，
ｉ’ｍ ｎｏｔ ａｆｒａｉｄ ｏｆ ｔｈｕｎｄｅｒ
ｉ ａｍ ｆｕｌｌ ｏｆ ｌｉｇｈｔ，
ｉ ａｍ ｆｕｌｌ ｏｆ ｗｏｎｄｅｒ
ｗｏａｈ， ｏｈ ｉ ａｉｎ'ｔ ｆａｌｌｉｎｇ ｕｎｄｅｒ
ｗｏａｈ， ｏｈ ｉ ａｍ ｆｕｌｌ ｏｆ ｗｏｎｄｅｒ
ｔｈｏｕｇｈ ｏｕｒ ｆｅｅｔ ｍｉｇｈｔ ａｃｈｅ，
ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ’ｓ ｕｐｏｎ ｏｕｒ ｓｈｏｕｌｄｅｒｓ
ｎｏ ｗａｙ ｗｅ ｇｏｉｎ’ ｂｒｅａｋ，
‘ｃｏｓ ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｆｕｌｌ ｏｆ ｗｏｎｄｅｒ

✦--- ｉ ｃａｎ ｂｅａｔ

name;; Aiden Ellie Collins.
pronounced;; Aye-den ell-ee coll-ins/color]
age;; [color=grey]Aiden is 18 years old. Her birthday
is the 6th of July.
gender;; She is Female.
sexuality;; Straight; she is defiantly heterosexual.

✦--- ｔｈｅ ｎｉｇｈｔ．

hair;; her hair is a mousy brown color,
it falls below her shoulder blade quite thin
and very straight. Appose to the meek brown
color her root are a darker brown though. It
frames her face. Perfect for her.
height;; she stands at 5 feet and 7 inches.
weight;; she weights about 100 and twenty pounds.
120 lbs.
skin;; she is pale; unusually so for a girl her age...
Being from Ireland the sun is often non-existent.
So the rare sun she got was soaked up.

✦--- ｉ'ｍ ｎｏｔ ａｆｒａｉｄ.

fears;; Aiden is deathly afraid of sharks
everything about them, she has nightmares
about being eaten alive! She also has a weird
phobia of nail varnish. She cant stand the stuff.
habits;; she has a habit of biting her nails too
much so they are just stumps. She also is
fiercely protective over friends and family.
A bad habit is she can easily jump to conclusions.
good traits;; Aiden is generally bad ass, she is
protective and closed too.
bad traits;; Aiden has a problem with sarcasm and
sometimes it comes out mean. She is sometimes
un-reliable and can be timid in new situations...
big secret;; She has a secret. Well the reason they
had to move from Ireland is because her brother
killed a man. Yes. Before he went to jail he
threatened her. 'I will kill you.' he said. So they moved.
Leaving Noah back in Ireland; rotting in a jail...
dreams;; Aiden dreams to move back too Ireland
to be back in her hometown. She dreams about
becoming a professional daredevil as well...

✦--- ｏｆ ｔｈｕｎｄｅｒ．

farther;; Her farther's name is Daniel Chad
Smith, most people call him Dan or Danny though.
mother;; Aiden's mother is named Jenifer Harriet
Smith- everybody either calls her Jen or Jenny...
brother;; Her brother; Noah. Noah Alex Smith. He
killed a innocent man; because he thought that he
had beaten up Aiden- he hadn't. But Noah went
to jail; before he went though he blames Aiden-
he threatened her life. That's when they moved!
pets;; She has a pussy cat called Noah. Yes,
the same name as her physio brother...

ＥＡＲＬＹ ＤＡＹＳ．．．
«green eyed sweetie...»
The horizon seemed to stretch the whole length of the earth; a day so bright and so perfect that the birds couldn't stop screeching. No. That wasn't the screeching; the noise was coming from a woman; not a woman a young adult. The girl not yet taken the right of passage; she was still naive and yet to experience the harsh world. The young adult was screaming- a painful sound, the boy next too her was only just turned 21 and this was not part of his life plan; this was not what he expected. But not matter what was expected- reality is harsh and the pair were beginning to realize this. The boy and girl had just lost their apartment because they couldn't afford the pay and they were now living with the girls parents. Tears streamed down the face of the girl as she gave that final push. The strangled breathing of the girl slowed and all the boy could hear was the shuffling of the doctors feet as they took the baby girl away. The woman smiled at the man. Through the pain they had managed to create something beautiful; love. The pain tears turned into happy tears; the girl was gone and in her place was a mother- a woman. The boy in the chair with the broken finger just stared lovingly into the mothers eyes he was a farther now. Sure they were going to be ridiculed and teased; they were hardly old enough the have a baby nor were they financially in the right position. The man only 21 and the woman only 20, but they were in love- nothing else mattered. The woman finally noticed the man trying to move his hand out of hers and she realized him from her vice. ''Daniel are you okay?'' she questioned. ''I think... You broke my finger.'' he replied. Then they began to laugh. She was in pain. He was in pain. But their baby girl was just a room away. Daniel looked up and noticed that his girlfriend was asleep. He stood up and began to walk around the hospital- the quaint little hallways made the hospital look small; well the hospital WAS small. Daniel found himself wandering into kids playroom- the toy bricks and Lego reserved for ill children; but he found what he was looking for. A small keyboard. He sat down on the small seat and began to play. His gruff voice singing don't stop believing. ''Streetlights people...'' A sweet voice joined in at the end. ''I love you Jen."

❝ＬＩＦＥ ＩＳ ＬＩＫＥ Ａ ＰＩＡＮＯ． ＷＨＡＴ ＹＯＵ ＧＥＴ ＯＵＴ ＯＦ ＩＴ
ＤＥＰＥＮＤＳ ＯＮ ＨＯＷ ＹＯＵ ＰＬＡＹ ＩＴ．．．❞

❝ＷＩＴＨＯＵＴ Ａ ＰＩＡＮＯ Ｉ ＤＯＮ'Ｔ ＫＮＯＷ ＨＯＷ ＴＯ ＳＴＡＮＤ，
ＤＯＮ'Ｔ ＫＮＯＷ ＷＨＡＴ ＴＯ ＤＯ ＷＩＴＨ ＭＹ ＨＡＮＤＳ． ❞

ｗｏａｈ， ｏｈ ｗｅ ａｉｎ'ｔ ｆａｌｌｉｎｇ ｕｎｄｅｒ
ｗｏａｈ， ｏｈ ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｆｕｌｌ ｏｆ ｗｏｎｄｅｒ
ｔｈｉｓ ｌｉｇｈｔ ｉｓ ｃｏｎｔａｇｉｏｕｓ，
ｇｏ， ｇｏ ｔｅｌｌ ｙｏｕｒ ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒｓ
ｊｕｓｔ ｒｅａｃｈ ｏｕｔ ａｎｄ ｐａｓｓ ｉｔ ｏｎ
ｔｈｉｓ ｌｉｇｈｔ ｉｓ ｃｏｎｔａｇｉｏｕｓ，
ｇｏ， ｇｏ ｔｅｌｌ ｙｏｕｒ ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｕｒｓ
ｊｕｓｔ ｒｅａｃｈ ｏｕｔ
ａｎｄ ｐａｓｓ ｉｔ ｏｎ ｏｏｈ ｙｅａｈ．

✧ --- ｓｅｖｅｎ ｎａｔｉｏｎ ａｒｍｙ．
I'm Gonna fight 'em Off
A Seven Nation Army couldn't hold me back
They're Gonna Rip it off
Taking there Time right behind my back
And I'm Talking to myself at night
because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind
behind a cigarette
And the message coming from my eye
says leave it alone
-
Don't want to hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
Everyone Knows about it
From the Queen of England To the Hounds of Hell
And if I catch ya coming back my way
I'm gonna Sell it to you
And that ain't what you want to hear
but that's what I'll do
-
And the feeling coming from my bones
says find a home
I'm going to Witchita
Far from this opera for evermore
I'm gonna work the straw
Make the sweat drip out of every pore
-
And I'm Bleeding, and I'm Bleeding, and I'm Bleeding.
Right before the Lord
All the words are gonna bleed from me
and I will sing no more
And the stings coming from my blood
tell me go back home

ＡＦＴＥＲＷＡＲＤＳ．．．
«created afterwards...»
The baby was born and it still didn't have a name. The parents debated and argued over the name of their little girl... So many different names shouted at each other casing arguments and curse words to be spat. The un-named little girl just sat and watched with wide eyes. ''What about Melody?'' her mother would ask and the farther would reply with another name... ''Hannah? Gabby? Penny?'' he would question. The mother replying with a stiff shake of the head. At this rate the girl would never be named! The parents were too busy arguing to notice that their little girl had begun to clap her chubby little hands and gurgle with happiness. Mickey Mouse was currently explaining to the audience about his club house and asking whether you wanted to go in; in a very annoying voice. The absorbed parents finally noticed. ''Aiden. She should be Aiden.' Jenny laughed, Daniel nodded his approval and the strange pair began to prance around the hospital. How did the second name Ellie come to be? Well the parents pranced straight into the cancer ward- there was a little girl named Ellie. Ellie smiled at the two new parents and waved laughing at their stupidity. Jenny and Daniel stopped dancing and waved back at the small child; they came closer to the ill child and sat down on the chairs near the bed. ''How are you sweety?'' Jenny asked a kind smile on her face. She knew that this kid was very ill; she could tell. ''I've been better...'' Ellie replied. How old was she 12? 13? 14? No older. ''Things will get better.'' Daniel said with a small smile, he doubted himself though, the small girl did not look well. Jen felt a little green; not long ago she was this girls age, what if she was in her place? Jenny was about to say something comforting but she heard a baby crying- it was Aiden! ''Bye Ellie you have a good rest.'' Daniel said before jogging back to the other room. ''Stay strong...'' Jen said before walking away. She felt the tears in her eyes. ''Dan. Ellie. Her middle name will be Ellie.'' Jen confirmed. ''Yes. Yes it will.'' he replied before picking up little Aiden Ellie.

❝ＤＯＮ'Ｔ ＣＲＹ ＢＥＣＡＵＳＥ ＩＴ'Ｓ ＯＶＥＲ． ＳＭＩＬＥ ＢＥＣＡＵＳＥ
ＩＴ ＨＡＰＰＥＮＥＤ❞

❝ＬＯＶＥ ＩＳ Ａ ＰＩＡＮＯ ＤＲＯＰＰＥＤ ＦＲＯＭ Ａ ＦＯＵＲＴＨ ＳＴＯＲＹ ＷＩＮＤＯＷ，
ＡＮＤ ＹＯＵ ＷＥＲＥ ＩＮ ＴＨＥ ＷＲＯＮＧ ＰＬＡＣＥ ＡＴ ＴＨＥ ＷＲＯＮＧ ＴＩＭＥ．❞

ｉ ｇｕｅｓｓ ｉｔ'ｓ ｆｕｎｎｉｅｒ ｆｒｏｍ
ｗｈｅｒｅ ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ ｓｔａｎｄｉｎｇ
'ｃａｕｓｅ ｆｒｏｍ ｏｖｅｒ ｈｅｒｅ
ｉ'ｖｅ ｍｉｓｓｅｄ ｔｈｅ ｊｏｋｅ
ｃｌｅａｒｅｄ ｔｈｅ ｗａｙ ｆｏｒ ｍｙ ｃｒａｓｈ ｌａｎｄｉｎｇ
ｉ'ｖｅ ｄｏｎｅ ｉｔ ａｇａｉｎ，
ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ ｎｕｍｂｅｒ ｆｏｒ ｙｏｕｒ ｎｏｔｅｓ
ｉ'ｄ ｂｅ ｓｍｉｌｉｎｇ ｉｆ ｉ ｗａｓｎ'ｔ ｓｏ
ｄｅｓｐｅｒａｔｅ

✦ --- ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ ｍｅ．．．

ＭＯＶＩＮＧ ＩＮ
«and moving on...»
After spending 3 years in her mothers house Jen had had enough; she was fuming. They needed space- and Dublin was just the place. After a couple of months of building up they finally moved. Daniel, Jen, Aiden and a little baby called Noah. Noah was exactly 6 months old when the Collins moved house; some people say that Jen must have dropped the baby on his head- to make him turn out the way he did... Aiden knew though, it wasn't because Noah was crazy- he just loved his older sister. Even though Aiden was older than Noah- ever since Noah could walk and talk he has been protective over his sister. At first it was cute- they would do everything together... After a while it got a little creepy. She had soft mousy brown hair and it was constantly tied back in a high pony. She would add various clips and grips that she thought made her look like a princess... Aiden was obsessed with princesses! She was a dreamer she would dream of being a princess when she grew up; this changed when she turned five. What happened then? Well Mickey got her first skateboard! She loved it. She would spend hours on end playing! But when Noah was awake he would attempt to stand up on the skateboard with his sister. At this point Noah was unable to say Aiden so it came out come like, 'Den.' Noah loved his older sister. Aiden was never jealous because Noah got more attention than her; she was a observant kid. Ever since she was really little she acted more like a boy than a girl and too be honest she was happy like that. She dreamed of motorcycles. But too her brother she was everything he wanted too be. She would tell him story's about Ellie. You see Ellie's parents kept in contact with the teenager- she was in fact 13 and battling Cancer for 2 years. Jen was glad that Aiden's middle name was Ellie because it mean't she was strong. Well Ellie had won the fight. She was now living in the UK with her boyfriend. She was fit and healthy and over the illness. But Daniel and Jen still prayed that the illness would never come back. Unimportant things happened and the Collin family became tighter and closer than ever. The love was always there... They were the idyllic family- but not everything turns out like a farytale and it seems like they were on track for some bumps in the road...

❝ＭＯＳＴ ＰＥＯＰＬＥ ＬＩＶＥ ＡＮＤ ＤＩＥ ＷＩＴＨ ＴＨＥＩＲ ＭＵＳＩＣ
ＳＴＩＬＬ ＵＮＰＬＡＹＥＤ． ＴＨＥＹ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＡＲＥ ＴＯ ＴＲＹ． ❞

❝ＭＵＳＩＣ ＥＸＰＲＥＳＳＥＳ ＴＨＡＴ ＷＨＩＣＨ ＣＡＮＮＯＴ ＢＥ
ＳＡＩＤ ＡＮＤ ＯＮ ＷＨＩＣＨ ＩＴ ＩＳ ＩＭＰＯＳＳＩＢＬＥ ＴＯ ＢＥ ＳＩＬＥＮＴ❞

ｉ'ｄ ｂｅ ｐａｔｉｅｎｔ ｉｆ ｉ ｈａｄ ｔｈｅ ｔｉｍｅ
ｉ ｃｏｕｌｄ ｓｔｏｐ ａｎｄ ａｎｓｗｅｒ
ａｌｌ ｏｆ ｙｏｕｒ ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｓ
ａｓ ｓｏｏｎ ａｓ ｉ ｆｉｎｄ ｏｕｔ ｈｏｗ ｉ ｃｏｕｌｄ
ｍｏｖｅ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｂａｃｋ ｏｆ ｔｈｅ ｌｉｎｅ
ｓｏ ｉ'ｌｌ ｂｅ ｙｏｕｒ ｃｌｏｗｎ ｂｅｈｉｎｄ ｔｈｅ ｇｌａｓｓ
ｇｏ 'ｈｅａｄ ａｎｄ ｌａｕｇｈ 'ｃａｕｓｅ ｉｔ'ｓ ｆｕｎｎｙ
ｉ ｗｏｕｌｄ ｔｏｏ ｉｆ ｉ ｓａｗ ｍｅ

✧ --- ｌｉｔｔｌｅ ｂｉｒｄ．．．
If we take this bird in, with its broken leg,
We could nurse it, she said,
Come inside for a little lie down with me,
And if you fall asleep, it wouldn't be the worst thing.
But when I wake up, and your make up is on my shoulder,
And tell me if I lie down, would you stay now?
Let me hold ya, oh.

But if I kiss you will your mouth read this truth,
Darling how I miss you, strawberries taste how lips do,
And its not complete yet, mustn't get our feet wet,
Cause that leads to regret, diving in too soon,
And I'll owe it all to you, oh, my little bird.
My little bird.

If we take a walk out, in the morning dew,
We can lay down, so I'm next to you,
Come inside for a little home made tea,
And if you fall asleep, then at least your next to me,
And if I wake up, say its late love, get back to sleep,
I'm covered by nature and I'm safe now,
Underneath this oak tree, with you beside me.

But if I kiss you will your mouth read this truth,
Darling how I miss you, strawberries taste how lips do,
And its not complete yet, mustn't get our feet wet,
Cause that leads to regret, diving in too soon,
And I'll owe it all to you, oh, my little bird.
My little bird,
My little bird,
My little bird.

And of all these things I'm sure of, I'm not quite certain of your love,
You make scream, and then I make you cry,
When I left that little bird with its broken leg to die.

But if I kiss you will your mouth read this truth,
Darling how I miss you, strawberries taste how lips do,
And its not complete yet, mustn't get our feet wet,
Cause that leads to regret, diving in too soon,
And I'll owe it all to you, oh, my little bird.
My little bird, whoa oh oh oh whoaa,
My little bird,
My little bird,
You're my little bird.

ＱＵＩＣＫＬＹ．．．
«a downwards spirall...»
The kids grew up; from toddlers to teenager to young adults... The change was not in any way easy and sure the family as a whole had some hiccups but in a whole they were fine. Nothing changed they grew up like all the other family's; well better really. Mickey was a straight A student and Noah was doing his best. They were happy. Mickey had a thing for coffee though; if she couldn't sleep she could trudge over to the Starbucks across the road- in her pj's and slippers. Tonight was just like any other night; she walked over to the Starbucks and ordered the usual. All the late workers giving her a smile; they knew her. She slipped into the booth and waited for Betty to bring over her drink- but that certain drink never got too her. A boy slipped into her booth shooting her a smile; 'hey, beautiful.' he cooed at her. Mickey is a teenager. The boy was good looking. She blushed; now please do not think of her as a slut because she did what every teenager would do. She flirted back. They talked and talked- well she talked. He lied. He said he was 16 too. He wasn't 16 he was actually 20 at this point. This was later found out by the police when his body was recovered. Well after 5 minuets the man managed to lure Mickey outside, she was laughing joking so was he. He then gave her a invitation- too go back to his flat. She was stunned; only 16! She declined and tried to make her way back into the building; but he grabbed her arm and wouldn't let her. He ended up angry and began to tighten his grip around her wrist; it hurt. When she whimpered he got violent and beat her! He stalked of into the night leaving the 16 year old in the pavement. Betty later found her and called the police and ambulance. She was alright, her brother wasn't. He began to mumble under his breath his face red with hate; he was so protective over his sister and he was out for blood! Literally. 2 days later the body of a 20 year old man who was wanted by the police was found by the Irish police. Surprisingly Noah gave himself in! Not before the deranged brother sent a message to his older sister. It is all your fault. I will find you, and kill you once I get out! Frightened and scared the family realized they were going to have to do something to get away. Their daughter was scared for life and suddenly even her own farther scared her. They were going to have to get far away from this place. England. England sounds good.

❝ＴＨＩＮＫ ＬＥＦＴ ＡＮＤ ＴＨＩＮＫ ＲＩＧＨＴ ＡＮＤ ＴＨＩＮＫ ＬＯＷ ＡＮＤ ＴＨＩＮＫ
ＨＩＧＨ． ＯＨ， ＴＨＥ ＴＨＩＮＧＳ ＹＯＵ ＣＡＮ ＴＨＩＮＫ ＵＰ ＩＦ ＯＮＬＹ ＹＯＵ ＴＲＹ❞

❝“ＴＨＥ ＭＯＲＥ ＴＨＡＴ ＹＯＵ ＲＥＡＤ， ＴＨＥ ＭＯＲＥ ＴＨＩＮＧＳ ＹＯＵ ＷＩＬＬ ＫＮＯＷ．
ＴＨＥ ＭＯＲＥ ＴＨＡＴ ＹＯＵ ＬＥＡＲＮ， ＴＨＥ ＭＯＲＥ ＰＬＡＣＥＳ ＹＯＵ'ＬＬ ＧＯ．”❞

ｉ'ｌｌ ｂｅ ｙｏｕｒ ｃｌｏｗｎ
ｏｎ ｙｏｕｒ ｆａｖｏｒｉｔｅ ｃｈａｎｎｅｌ
ｍｙ ｌｉｆｅ'ｓ ａ ｃｉｒｃｕｓ－ｃｉｒｃｕｓ
ｒｏｕｎｄｉｎｇ ｃｉｒｃｌｅｓ
ｉ'ｍ ｓｅｌｌｉｎｇ ｏｕｔ ｔｏｎｉｇｈｔ
ｉ'ｄ ｂｅ ｌｅｓｓ ａｎｇｒｙ ｉｆ ｉｔ ｗａｓ ｍｙ ｄｅｃｉｓｉｏｎ
ａｎｄ ｔｈｅ ｍｏｎｅｙ ｗａｓ ｊｕｓｔ
ｒｏｌｌｉｎｇ ｉｎ ｉｆ ｉ ｈａｄ ｍｏｒｅ ｔｈａｎ ｍｙ
ａｍｂｉｔｉｏｎ ｉ'ｌｌ ｈａｖｅ ｔｉｍｅ ｔｏ ｐｌｅａｓｅ

✦ --- ｃａｐｔｕｒｅ ｉｔ．．．

ＨＡＲＤＬＹ．．．
«an easy task...»
words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words; words;

[radioactive.]

[ May I please play Zayn and the last girl?

[|| Ghost ||]

OOC:

@ tell me a lie. - Yes, you may reserve Zayn and one of the girl characters :] .

@ V i v a n t. - Ehm, hello ^_^ . I noted below the different reaches that I would choose who would be where. Also, I would really appreciate it if you could play one of the guys :] .

[breeze']

Right. Just tell me when you have decided where to place my girl... ^-^ I will take Nialler if he is open because I most likely know the most about him.Although I can do them all. I am a *cough*stalker*cough* dedicated fan. Right thank you guys c: Loveee you.