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Posted: Fri Feb 18, 2011 5:56 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 18, 2011 6:58 pm
Replace f e a r of the unknown with CURIOSITYRosetta Amber Crayola ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Why, Hello there. My name is Rosie I've walked this earth for seventeen years. I am five feet three inches, 107 pounds.. The doctors screamed that I was a miracle girl when I came out.
▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm Addicted! ☼ warmth ☼ peace ☼ quiet ☼ dresses
Cut them out of my life! ✄ depressing scenes ✄ sharp objects ✄ scary situations ✄ him, the stalker ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Turn the Page of my Everlasting story.
I remember my parents death in vivid detail. It was very late, and I was soundly sleeping in my bedroom. There was a lot of commotion, and I had an odd sense in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't a good one either. A small voice in my head was telling me to hide. So I did. There was a small crawl space far in my closet. I tucked myself away inside of it, I was small enough to fit. I made sure I was as quiet as I could be, so whoever was in my house could not find me. I was in there for a long time, and when I heard the loud bang, I didn't know what to think. At first I thought my father had thumped the man on the head, and knocked him out. But that same voice in my head told me I was wrong. It said that my parents were killed. Before I could start crying though, the voice told me that they would be fine. They were in a special place now, where they would always look after me. I believed the voice, for it sounded very sincere. I didn't realize how long I was in that hole, I was lost in thought, conversing with the voice inside of my head. It told me to call it Light. Light was very kind to me.
Light told me to get out of the crawlspace quickly, and to go outside. I did as she told, and hurried out the door. Policemen were getting ready to leave. When they saw me, they froze. They acted like I was a ghost, thinking I was taken by the only man that got away. The man that had been stalking me since birth. They took me away, and I stayed at the police station for the rest of the night. I was only seven when all of this happened, and for a seven year old whose parents were just murdered, I was very calm. Light had reassured me. The voice had been cooing sweet words to me quietly, making it easy for me to sleep in the uncomfortable chair at the police station. Two policemen sat beside me in chairs, never leaving my side. While six more police were gathered in the room next to me, trying to track down the sadistic man that attempted to kidnap a small child.
The next morning, I was given some of my things. A picture of my parents, few changes of clothes, and my stuffed bear. I was saddened that I had to leave my home, and abandon all of my belongings. Light told me not to be upset, for everything I owned were only material items, and I could always get more if I wanted. This helped me, and I calmed instantly. I went to a program for children with no parents that needed to be put under protection. It sounded a lot like an orphanage to me, but it wasn't. We only shared rooms with two other children, so we weren't crammed together. It was much cleaner, and the adults cared for everyone. But once I got there, things weren't as good as it seemed. Everyday, I got beat on by bigger kids, and had my food stolen. This left me hungry most of the time, but we only had three meals of the day. Light told me to be strong, and they only picked on me because they thought they were better than me. But if I held my head high, and shrugged it off like it was nothing, then I would be fine. So I did what she said. It got me through most of the time in the large building, but it didn't stop the pain of the bruises I received. Light was the only thing that kept my head held high.
It's who I am.
I'm a very calm, and quiet person. I observe, more than participate. Seclusion is what I like most, because then it's just me and Light. I'm not usually afraid, and I like to keep my head held high. It's my nature to be kind, and caring towards others, and I like to be respectful Even if said person does not deserve my respect. I let them have it anyways. Violence is out of the question, and I will never lay a hand on another being. Even if they've tried to hurt me. I don't like to hurt people. My calm characteristic seems to make everyone else around me calm. It's quite a sight really. I can't describe it fully. ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm but a puppet in this vast world of imagination.
-ox- Smartie Doll -xo-
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 10:40 am
The world rots with each passing day. Its abominable.Randol Ray Thomas ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Yo. My name is Randol. I've walked this earth for eighteen years. I am 6 feet 3 pounds (6'3"). The doctors screamed that I was a male when I came out.
▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm Addicted! ☼ Chocolate ☼ Music ☼ Sound of water ☼ Sound of the piano
Cut them out of my life! ✄ The act of sincerity ✄ Having to cope others business ✄ Trapped ✄ Tears ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Turn the Page of my Everlasting story.
Long days of training. I won't forget it. These long days turned into years. It was tiring as confusion rose with each birthday that comes across. Why is father training us? What is the reason for all this trouble? I always question myself this.
One night, father went away with two of his men. All night, I waited near the window, seeing for a sign. At that point in time, as the music continued to play, I heard a gunshot. Far away, I could even hear it. Was it father? Sirens rung through the glass window. I was eager to open the window, but I wouldn't wish to awaken my brother's slumber.
Father came through the front door. Footsteps of one were heard. Where was his men? Lying in bed I attempt to sleep, but curiosity was on my mind. What could have happened? All these questions have no answer to it.
Father orders for three girls to be taken back to him. The report he has collected showed information of them. Three. Why? What for? Where? A life is just a riddle.
It's who I am.
Quiet and one with few words. I am the one who steps out of the crowd. The 'odd-one-out'. My thoughts alone pleases me and nothing else. Music drains my thoughts of the mission set for my brothers and me. I'm a laid-back, peaceful person on the inside, but always under-estimated by my father. The results ended up better than father expected from us. ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm but a puppet in this vast world of imagination.
Sweet Knight Mare
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:47 pm
"I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity." Salem Hunter Thomas ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ *sound of disgust* My name is Salem Hunter Thomas I've walked this earth for seventeen years. I am 6' 2" and 125 pounds. The doctors screamed that I was a disturbed male when I came out.
▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm Addicted! ☼ Charles Manson ☼ Loud metal music ☼ Playing the guitar ☼ Frequent bouts of organized chaos
Cut them out of my life! ✄ Sappy slow music ✄ Bright colors ✄ Sympathetic whiny bastards ✄ Sarcasm (Doesn't take it well but gives it back fine.) ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Turn the Page of my Everlasting story.
Never knew my mother. Pretty sure she died some time ago, not that it concerns me really. She was just a slut that my father used to make me. I'm the last son to be born of this man with two older brothers of whom do not have the same mother as me. Our family is not the most conventional nor is it normal by any means. My brothers and I are not close but that may just be me. I pull myself away from them because it is the only way I know how to obtain this unfeeling state of being that my father so desires from us. From an early age I did everything to please my father and that was pretty easy considering this is just the way I am. I was everything and more than what he wanted me to be and I always saw myself as in a competition with the others. Of course I always won in my eyes. The others were too calm, too nonchalant.
We were trained. For what I did not know I only knew that I enjoyed every minute of it. The long hard days full of pain and suffering, of course it had its perks every now and then with a few, uh, special assignments and such. Because of the training we were never sent to school but that wasn't a problem. My brothers and I already knew all that we needed to know about the world and it's studies. Perhaps more than the average person. I did find it slightly odd though that all of our training had to do with kidnapping. And our father was always talking about these three particular girls. I was only five when I first heard about them and didn't really understand what it was that we were supposed to be doing with them. I did not dare ask my brothers if they got it for like I said before, they are not close to me and frankly I don't want to rely on them for an instant because who knows? They are probably just like me and believe me, I wouldn't trust myself.
One night I heard the door open and close in our house late at night. My other brother had gotten out of his bed to look out the window. I did not stir from my bed and pretended to be asleep but in reality I was listening intently. I did not jump nor become concerned when the first gun shot fired. If my father was the one shot then it was his own damn fault really. The sirens came next and still I could not bring myself to care. Was it because I knew he was not dead? Or did I just truly not give a s**t if he was gone? Either way when the door opened again I knew it was father who had come back and not the other two men who claimed to be his equal. Serves them right. Perhaps now father would place more importance on me to carry out his missions that I knew I would succeed in.
After that night the training became harder and more vigorous. Not once did I complain or whine. I took each punishment if I did something wrong with not so much as a grimace on my face. I was like a machine. Cold and hard. When I turned seventeen was when our father finally sent us out to do what he trained us for. to captured those girls that had eluded him for so long. I did not question why is was that he wanted them I just did what I was told and so that is where we are now. Standing outside the protective household waiting for the right time to strike and take back what our father so desperately wants.
It's who I am.
I have absolutely no respect for anything at all. Hell I wouldn't even care if anyone respected me. I do what I want when I want and nothing anyone can say or do will stop me. I'm kind of like my father in the way that I will use others shamelessly for my own gain. I'm not trustworthy and will turn on you in the time span of about a millisecond. I have self-confidence like you wouldn't believe and will not hesitate to demonstrate just how much better I am than someone else. Intelligence is just another bonus to what I already am. Although I am not a narcissist, I do tend to believe that everyone is beneath me. I've never felt love and don't plan on it any time soon. I am sarcastic, cruel and violent towards anyone and everyone. Beg, cry, flatter, scream, do whatever you feel is necessary to get a shred of pity from me but you won't find it. I'm an ice cold b*****d so its best to accept me for who I am. ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm but a puppet in this vast world of imagination.
HatterHarleyQuinn
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 1:50 pm
"Music be my food and drink"Gwenivere Kalie Dalton ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Oh, hello... My name is Gwen I've walked this earth for eighteen years. I am 5' 4" and 105lbs. The doctors screamed that I was a baby girl when I came out.
▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm Addicted! ☼ High heels ☼ Piano ☼ Stuffed animals ☼ Flowers
Cut them out of my life! ✄ Loud noises ✄ The darkness ✄ Creepy people ✄ Angry music ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Turn the Page of my Everlasting story.
Stillborn, that's what they called me. A baby born dead, and while usually they don;t succeed in resuscitating the infants born this way, I was a lucky one. August 11th I died and was born anew, but it did leave me with frail health, which is why I'm such a small girl even for my age. My life was okay, spending my time with my mother while my father was doing his military stuff. We lived rather comfortably, and my parents were nice people with lots of friends. So when an unknown man started stalking me, they were confused as to who would want to do something like that.
And then there was the attack. It was the dead of night, and my night light wasn't working, I couldn't sleep in the darkness, it felt suffocating. So I was laying there, about seven or eight, maybe even younger, I can't remember...but I was laying in my bed, eyes wide open and I heard it. I heard loud noises downstairs as someone broke in, and at the time I was glad my dad was home, because who was stronger than my daddy? A gun, that's what. Both my parents gone in a matter of seconds, and standing in the hallway I wanted to scream out, but something told me to run, and I did. My house had an attic, but the way to get in was through the broom closet and nobody really knew about it. I went up there as soundlessly as I could manage, panic coursing through me as I heard footsteps right outside the door. I barely made it up a few steps before my legs gave out and I sat down.
It was a long time before the sirens came, but the intruder was still searching for me when there was one last shot, and then several feet were moving through the house. I don't remember coming out of hiding, but I ended up following the police out of my house. I ended up in a facility for other children in need of protection. Two other girls were brought there the same night, having the same thing happen to them. Someone is looking for us, even to this day...but why us?
It's who I am.
Quiet and sophisticated, people like to think that I'm a snob, but I'm really not, honest! I enjoy music, it's what keeps my mind off of what may be waiting for me outside of these walls. Being eighteen now, I'm going to be kicked out soon, and I'm frightened. Actually, I'm usually this way, I'm quite the scardy-cat at times. If the right buttons are pushed, I'll cry easily, I'm actually a pretty weak person in the emotion department. My will though, and my drive to live, are both very strong, and while I may be bawling my eyes out while doing it, I'll fight for my life. ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm but a puppet in this vast world of imagination.
Cadenza of the Heart
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 9:12 pm
"I'm beautiful, I'm broken." Rayne Rei Valentine ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Hi, My name is Rayne I've walked this earth for sixteen years. I am 5'5"109 lbs. The doctors screamed that I was a female when I came out.
▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm Addicted! ☼ Candy ☼ Singing ☼ Dancing ☼ not talking
Cut them out of my life! ✄ preps ✄ talking ✄ perverts ✄ sour candy ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Turn the Page of my Everlasting story.
I was born about sixteen years ago. I was a mircle child,therefore, I was loved by my parents dearly, and they said I was going to be an only child, which was fine by me. I grew up playing the piano and flute, being extremely good for my age, it was my talent. By the age of five, I was already began writing a few songs, just simple ones. I was a pretty preppy girl myself, I loved talking, and reading. I was a pretty decent kid, I obeyd my parents, and my nanny.
By the time I was 8, I began to be spoken two by some random person, he seemed pretty nice. My parents began to worry, and everytime they saw him going down the street, they would rush me and my friends inside quickly. At first it was little converstions, then it grew into something much worst. When my parents suddenly died, I began my loner stage, I wouldn't talk to the teachers at the orphanage, or the kids, I would just stay on my bed. The police examined my room, my house. This is me now..
It's who I am.
I was extremely social, and sweet. Now that my parents are gone, I seem to be distracted by everything, and extremely quiet. I stay away from guys, unless I need to. I'm still caring, even though I don't show it much. When I do get close to a guy, I tend to show little signs that I like him. I'm very VERY crazy, I talk to myself alot. ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm but a puppet in this vast world of imagination.
Your Classic Gurl
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 7:32 am
"Life is like an onion; you peel off one layer at a time and sometimes you weep." Terra Christian Thomas ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ *smile* Hi. My name is Terra Christian Thomas I've walked this earth for 19 years. I am 6'4" and 152 pounds. The doctors screamed that I was a male when I came out.
▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm Addicted! ☼ Reading ☼ Music ☼ Shooting stars ☼ Thunderstorms
Cut them out of my life! ✄ Anger ✄ Hot weather ✄ Being lied to ✄ Not understanding some of my own feelings ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ Turn the Page of my Everlasting story.
My mother was my father's first 'wife' you could say. He never officially married her; I didn't even really care back then. I still don't care now. Then again, he never officially married any of our mothers. I was his first son, but it wasn't like he ever treated me like family, just like how he treated my other brothers when they were born. I didn't really like talking to people back then, because of my father. I didn't mind that he never cared about me as much as other fathers cared for their kids. It seemed he only had one thing in mind for us, and there was no dissuading him. It came naturally for me, that state of unfeeling. I was probably no different from Salem. I didn't care.
Our training was tough, and harsh. There were no holidays for us, no sympathetic breaks. We had to go through it every single day. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into years, and we were still at it. I was probably the coldest of us brothers. School was just a word to me, since we had never been sent there. We only had our training to focus on. During all those years, I never spoke to anyone, and it led my whole 'family' to think that I was a mute. They've never heard me say anything once in my whole life. Even though we were often punished and struck, not once did I express any emotion or cry out. Sadistic, evil, and cruel weren't really my thing though.
Because we were never let out of the house, I could only watch the outside world from my bedroom window. I could see others walking past, with their own family, their own parents. Why did they look so happy? It was a question I often asked myself. I could never answer it, but a part of me longed to be loved and accepted like them...I kept my new found emotions under a steely mask, for my own sake. Father never liked it when anyone spoke out against him.
That one night was when everything changed. I, unlike my brothers, hadn't been in bed. I had been on the roof, because it was the only time I could be alone, in peace. I saw my father and two henchmen leaving the house. They went far, but not far enough. I still heard the gunshots, the sirens. My father was the only one to come back home. I wouldn't put it past him if he had sacrificed the other two for his own survival.
Afterwards, training became more of a living hell. I still forced myself not to show any emotion, and I was doing pretty well actually. When I turned nineteen, our father finally sent us out on his real mission; to capture three girls, the three he had always been talking about, always obsessing over. One would think that they were his children and not us. So now here we are...in front of the household. A part of me is reluctant to do this...but for some reason, despite all that he put us through, I just can't find it in me to go against the man I called 'father' for so long...
It's who I am.
I'm probably the quietest person you'll ever come across. Well, maybe that's because I never say anything and people think that I'm a mute. I'm rather level-headed and my temper is practically non-existent. I'm nothing like my father at all; his complete opposite. I'm often underestimated because of that. I do have a limit to my patience, actually, and, usually, Salem is the one testing that limit. Although I'm not as icy as him, I am known to completely ignore someone just because I don't necessarily like them (*coughSalemcough*). I'm actually pretty protective of the ones close to me, but I just haven't found the right person to be protective of as of currently. ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ I'm but a puppet in this vast world of imagination.
Hunter Crawl
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