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 Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 12:24 am
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What's your name again? Anaïs West. It's pronounced Ah-nah-ees, not ahnays or anything... the i makes its own noise.
What should I call you? Friday. Non-week people just call me Anaïs, though very rarely do they pronounce it right.
Can I ask how old you are? Yeah - seventeen. Sweetly seventeen.
When's your birthday? December first.
Height? 5' 7".
Weight...? around a hundred fifteen, I think?
Eyes? Just...brown.
Hair, dye, et cetera. Brown, with some faded lowlights.
What's your life like? Uh, decent, I guess. I dunno. I'll start from the beginning...
I was born on December first, 1993, to Mariah Percy and Phillip West. They knew they couldn't afford to have a kid - they were nineteen, both of them, when I was born - but mom refused to terminate the pregnancy. So, with the hope that they could both get jobs, mom gave birth to me. Named me, held me, fed me - for a few days. And then she left. She left me with my irresponsible dad, leaving just a note. My dad has never let me read it, and I don't know if I want to.
My dad was, understandably, devastated. The love of his life left him with a newborn baby, a dwindling trust fund, and four months of unpaid rent. He got a job at Wal-Mart, lived sparingly, and somehow managed to not kill himself or me, till he swallowed his pride and called my grandma. (He ran away with mom because their parents didn't approve...cliche, right?) She took us in, albeit begrudgingly. She paid the overdue rent, gave dad a few not-so-true referrals, and pretty much got him on his feet. (This was about when I, as a little peewee, got introduced to the rest of the week.) And things were good, till I turned five.
I remember it with odd clarity - it was the morning of January second, 1999. I was in the living room with dad, watching the news before dad drove me to school. Then this headline came up - WOMAN, 24, FOUND DEAD IN HOTEL. I didn't think anything of it, till they showed her picture. Since I was five, I didn't see any resemblance between me and her, till dad said, "You look just like her." And he was all shaking and crying, and then I realized. That was my mom.
I wasn't really fazed, and I never have been. I never knew my mom, (I really didn't think very good of her, anyway. She was pretty and gave me a cool name, but she left and hurt my dad, sooo...) and we got along pretty okay with out her. Of course, it hit my dad hard - especially when it was found that she committed suicide. That's when he started hitting the beer. My dad was, apparently, really attractive at age twenty-four, so he started hooking up with all these chicks and staying out really late, leaving me at grandma's house. It was like, every three weeks I'd have a 'potential step-mom.' And it was really annoying, because y'know. At six, I was supposed to marry my dad and stuff.
As he got older, and the pack a day smoking took its toll, dad started getting sadder and sadder and left the house less and less. He stopped going out all together (except for parents' nights and grocery shopping and such) when he was diagnosed with HIV. He manages it, and the doctor says he's still relatively healthy, and that he was lucky they detected it early on. Even so, my dad was pretty much devastated. Now he's vaguely afraid of the outdoors. He works from home - or, well, he does s**t with stocks. I don't get any of that. Otherwise, having loaded grandparents always helps. I can trust that me and my dad will always be in a comfortable financial situation. (I do have a job, but it's so I can have some extra cash and discounts on clothes.)
Eventually, when I was like thirteen, the temptation of having tons of six-packs in the house all the time go to me. So I drank a can. I decided I hated it. Of course, that didn't last long. When I was fifteen and got dumped by my boyfriend, I remembered how my dad once told me when he was drunk about how nice it felt - y'know, being drunk. So, in my angsty teenager rage, I took one of the six-packs, and chugged it all down. I got sicker than a dog, but I think that's when my mild alcoholism started. And the partying. And the sex. The drugs and smoking started later.
Sunday was the first to find out about my partying, when she stopped by my house to pick up her dress. She found me in my fancy nightclub garb, clutch purse in hand (fake ID. Drivers' license. Wallet.). She just told me to be careful. And I did not heed her warning. Since then, my drinking and partying and general whorishness has been a gray area in my friendship with the rest of the week. But, what can I say? Like father like son. Only, I'm a daughter. Not to mention, it's just fun.
So, I should probably explain my situation with Saturday, too. He asked me out last year. I said yes, but I told him like it is: I party, I have sex, I smoke and do drugs. I told him I want an open relationship. He agreed for whatever reason, and we've been going out since. But now he wants to be exclusive and, well, I don't know if I can stop myself.
And, last thing I'll cover. The car. With Sunday. I don't know what happened. We were driving, and we were having so much fun, singing along to Katy Perry songs - and then this guy ran a red light and...there was a lot of blood. Sunday was dead and broken and bleeding and her head was touching my shoulder - but I was fine. Perfectly fine. It should have been me. I don't care how cliche that is - it should've been me. The drinking, smoking, probably-gonna-get-an-STD one. Not the sweet, beautiful one. Not Sunday. Not Anna.
What are you like? I consider myself a decent human being. Maybe I'm not the nicest, or the sweetest, but I'm not a b***h. In fact, I pride myself in that. Sure, I have my moments - I'm something of a perfectionists, and I get angry or flustered easily - but overall I think I'm a good person. Or, maybe "good" isn't the ride word.
So, yes, if you were wondering: I am a slut. I'm not going to deny that, because it's true. Though, I'm not the steal-your-boyfriend-because-it's-funny type, because I have a heart and a brain. But, if I'm drunk and a guy comes on to me, and he's attractive enough, asking if he has a girlfriend is the farthest thing from my mind. And - heh - I just thought of this: I'm a lover, not a fighter. Funny, right? Okay, I know it wasn't. Shut up.
Otherwise. I like to have fun and all that. I'm a very social person - I'm almost always texting someone, my weekends are always busy. Almost always. I always shell out time to hang out with the week or to just relax by myself or with Tuesday or Wednesday or Sun - nevermind.
I'm something of a coward. I've grown up thinking talking = confrontation. Confrontation = bad. No talking = no confrontation. That's part of the reason why I'm hesitant to become serious with Saturday. I really do like him (in that way), but I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of thing. I just...hate the label girlfriend. I feel like it's just an excuse to be with someone on a more intimate level, but it also leads to fighting and overall bad times. Ugh, I'm rambling. So, anyway. I don't like being serious. I don't like getting in debates or arguments. I have a habit of running away from things like that.
And...that's me, I guess.
Name some things you love. Uh... well, for music, I like a wide variety. All the way from mainstream pop (Justin Bieber, Ke$ha, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry) to not-so-well known artists, like Dessa, Lissie, Alexandra Stan, and Eric Whitacre. I like pretty much all genres of music, but I'm not huge on country (except for Carrie Underwood), and I only like upbeat, happy classical, unless there's a choir in it. My favorite genres are techno and house music, and whatever the hell genre Amy Winehouse does. I love sweet foods, and s'mores are my favorite treat. I'm also obsessed with wheat and grain (I'd take a baguette over caviar or a wedding cake any day). I love hats, hair clips, and hair ties. I also like stylish, modern clothes, but at the same time I like 1920's flapper fashion. I obviously love guys, booze, and partying. But I also like to relax, curl up in my snuggie with my unicorn pillow pet and watch, like, Glee or a documentary or Monsters Inside Me. I absolutely adore my white corn snake Isolde and this stray cat that's not really mine but comes to my house all the time - I named it Hazel. I like the colors purple, green, orange, white, blue, yellow, and pink. I like white cars. I love shoes. I love to laugh and smile. I like blond guys. And... I like to go bike riding. Yeah. I also like playing sports - just for fun though. Bad minton, soccer, tennis - I always love a little friendly competition.
And some things you hate. Muscle cars, sour food, hangovers, pickles, people who diss snuggies, the fact that I can't dougie or jerk, the song Teach me how to dougie, getting nail polish or other stingy things in cuts, Owl City, and...being put on the spot.
Some hobbies? Bike riding, sports, painting my nails, doing my hair, meticulously choosing my outfits... I'm a girly girl - what can I say?
What are you famous for? Singing (I'll get back to you on an example), mostly, and... well, I'd tell you, but it's a little dirty. I'm not good at any other artsy things. But I'm damn good at makeovers. And nails. So I guess that's artsy? And, I'm not really famous for it yet, in fact I've yet to make a portfolio, but I'm pretty sure I'm a decent model. If...it requires any real talent. Whatever. I'm rather certain I've got a nice face, so...yeah. If I could make it as a model, I definitely want to be one.
Anything else? I cannot jerk. My name is French because my mom thought it was classy, apparently - not because I'm French. Also, I am not smart. Plain as that. I said something about watching documentaries, right? That's because my dad's obsessed with them, and it pretty much rubbed off on me too. That is why I often find myself flipping to the History channel or looking up documentaries on Netflix. (I am such a loser. Oh my god.) I've got a part time job at this vintage store called Rewind. My aunt owns it...so on top of getting a discount as family, I get an employee discount too ♥
Who are you really? Lieutenant Shotgun |
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 3:29 pm
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Aika Nakagawa 
What's your name again? Nakagawa, Aika...
What should I call you? My friends in the week call me Wednesday. People and friends who are not part of the week call me Ai...
Can I ask how old you are? Sixteen
When's your birthday? December 17th
Height? 5' 5"
Weight...? 103 lbs.
Eyes? Black
Hair, dye, et cetera. Black
What's your life like? I was born and raised in Osaka, Japan, but I moved to the USA when I was five or six years old. Shortly after my arrival, I was introduced to the other days, but we had a huge language barrier as I knew literally no English at all. Since I wasn't able to understand everyone, I closed myself off from them and didn't participate in what they were doing and did what I do best - stay invisible; just sit in a corner and watch. It wasn't until when I was seven (when I had a little more then basic understanding of English) when I made an attempt to interact with everyone else. Shortly afterwards they gave me the nickname Wednesday, the only day that wasn't taken and no one wanted because "it was long and none of us knew how to spell it properly" I didn't complain, in fact I felt kind of.... welcomed.
Although I never managed to get rid of my Japanese accent, we all grew up together and it was safe to say that the weeks were my only friends I really willingly kept in contact with. Soon, Thursday asked me out, and surprisingly, my parents actually encouraged it. (I have a small suspicion that our mothers probably orchestrated it). But suffice to say - I was actually happy, and I started speaking up more often when my parents were not around and if Thursday was there. Admittedly, though I think the first few dates we had together were very awkward since I didn't speak much and he seemed to not know what to say or do.
Then Sunday died. Right out of the blue. I found it.... unbelievable. Truth be told, she was making an attempt to get to know me, but I kept shutting her out because she had a good relationship with the other people in the week - and if I feared that if I told her anything (like my abusive father - I've been keeping that a secret from everyone) then she might tell everyone else. I soon realized that I was constantly rejecting a girl that would have made a wonderful friend, and now that chance was gone, and there would probably be absolutely no one else there I could safely confide to if I had given her that chance.
In response to Sunday's death - I shut off all my relationships with everyone that I could. I broke it off with Thursday and remained aloof to the rest of the days. If I wasn't close to them, and if they didn't attempt to get to know me and stay as friends, then if something drastic happened I wouldn't feel this way.... sad, stunned, upset.... If I could return being invisible to everyone like I used to..... If I didn't attempt to befriend everyone when we were just kids....
My main problem would be Thursday, I've been trying to avoid him, but he refuses to let me go back into my shell....
What are you like? People on first glance think I'm a mute, lonely, very nondescript girl. Thanks to my refusal to speak, I'm a very invisible character and I generally use actions to express myself - that is, when I want to express myself. Although most of the time, not everyone knows what I'm trying to "say", that's where Sunday and Thursday came in. They had a strange uncanny ability to tell what I'm thinking, despite the fact that I rarely show feelings outside of a small smile or a weak shrug. However, when I'm sad, everyone knows it, since whenever the tears start coming, they'll keep coming and I have trouble holding them back.
Despite the fact that I know Kendo and the basics of Judo - I'm a pacifist. I don't like seeing conflict, verbal or physical. I'll do nearly anything and everything in my power to ensure that fights and other petty conflicts won't start. I sincerely wish that I could be on everyone's good sides, although I do understand the fact that there is always someone somewhere out there that does not like what I do. I can't say I'm very sensitive to other people's feelings (at least when compared to Sunday), but I do know enough to know when to do and not do certain things. Little squabbles don't linger long in my mind, although I'll admit that I have a harder time letting go bigger arguments. To cut things short, I like looking on the brighter side of things.
I like to think of myself as an obedient child, especially for my parents. They both expect for me to learn plenty of hobbies and to excel in them. If I even come in second place or come home with a B+ I know that I'll be getting a harsh beating. Sometimes the marks are too plain visible (like on my face or hands) so I have to feign that I was too clumsy and tripped over myself or something. I'm not allowed to skip classes or school - even if I'm sick.
Name some things you love. I listen to Japanese songs, I generally refuse to listen to anything else. I would list what artists I listen too, but that would take up too much of your time. I have a bit of a sweet tooth, and every now and then I'll have cravings for dark chocolate and cakes (Tiramisu, black forest). Might sound strange, but I love the sky and the clouds, and if allowed, I'll stare up at it all day and daydream about flying. I really love winter time and snow, although down here in Florida we don't really get snow. But I enjoy rain, sometimes I'll just stand outside (with or without an umbrella) and just let the rain fall on me. I get sick often thanks to that bad habit, but I can't help it. When the rain falls down all over me, it feels as if it's washing away something...
And some things you hate. I avoid fights and conflicts as much as I can. Despite my sweet tooth; I absolutely loathe caramel and white chocolate. I tend to steer clear of English songs, especially rap and hard rock. I'm not a big fan of cluttered messy spaces either. I don't like staying in rooms without windows for prolonged periods of time either.
Some hobbies? My parents expect me to be some sort of prodigy or some sort, so I'm forced play the violin and learn Judo. On my own spare time, I like to sit down with a good book or sit in a corner (or outside on a grass field) and stare up at the sky.
What are you famous for? My parents are proud of my ability on the piano and drawing. My grandfather owns a Kendo dojo in Japan that will go to my Uncle (my dad's elder brother). My dad has me learning Kendo so that I won't "shame the family name" On our next trip back to Japan, he expects me to be able to beat my cousins....
Anything else? I own a cat (white fur, blue eyes) named Yuki
Who are you really? ll Yuna-Chan ll |
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Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 10:54 pm
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Garrett Orson Delacroix
What's your name again? Garrett Delacroix. That's pronounced deh-lah-KRWAH, for future reference.
What should I call you? Saturday. Of course, the non-week people just call me Garrett.
Can I ask how old you are? I'm seventeen, but only for a little while longer.
When's your birthday? November 2nd.
Height? 5' 11.5"
Weight...? Somewhere around one-forty, I think... I don't weigh myself very often.
Eyes? A few weeks after birth, my eyes turned a dull light brown with a thick, darker brown circle around the outer iris.
Hair, dye, et cetera. It's usually a dull, ashy brown, but it is prone to natural highlights after prolonged sun exposure.
What's your life like? My life? It's been decent... Maybe I should start at the beginning.
Well, I was born on the second of November, in the lovely year of 1994. My mother and father were a real pair; people always said they were perfect for each other. Let me tell you a bit about my parents: my mother is a French beauty who would do anything to keep a loved one happy, and my father, as far as I know, hasn't gone out of his way to cause trouble. My father, also known as Martin James Polard, was a real womanizer in his youth. When he was 30, he took a trip to France with "the love of his life," whom he planned to marry Unfortunately, he had an affair with a charming French maid (classy, right?) and ended up breaking it off with his almost-fiancee right then and there. He brought his new lover, a breath-takingly beautiful woman named Emilie, back to the states with promises of a happy life and a large fortune that he would soon inherit from his grandfather. Of course, she went along eagerly and dreamed of the day they would have a happy family.
Two years after their marriage, I came along. Everything went downhill after the short moments of happiness. My father never worked, as he expected to recieve a large sum of money once his grandfather died. The money never came, and my mother was forced to take on two jobs to support her "happy family." My mother's main focus was spritiual well being, and it was always "God, Jesus, and the Devil" with her. I should mention that Delacroix is not my last name by birth. Yeah, my mother had it put on my birth certificate, but it's neither of my parent's last names. You see, Delacroix is derived from de la Croix, which means "of the cross." I don't mind; I think it's sweet. Also, my initials are G-O-D, which spells out God, obviously. You think that was a coincidence? Nope. She did all these little things that I couldn't even appreciate until I was much older. Anyway, back to the life story. We managed to get by, but I didn't have many things a child usual should have; toys and books were only a fantasy to me. Now, mind you, my father was not some stay-at-home drunkard who never did a thing. He did help my mother out here and there, finding the time to hold a job for a few weeks at a time, but never managed to resume his promising career as a investments agent. Now that I think of it, my father might have lied about the whole career thing.
When I was five, my parents agreed that I should be put in school. My mother had been teaching me to speak French from the moment I could talk, so my English was suffering and, well, it was just time for me to be in school. As long as they had gas in the car (or even a car), I was taken to a large, beautiful building to "have my head stuffed with knowledge," as my father would say. I loved school; I loved to learn. I had a few "best friends" here and there in kindergarten and first grade, but I didn't make any friends as great as the six I made in second grade, and I doubt I ever will meet any other people like them. We all just complimented each other so well; it was effortless to mash together and form a bond unlike any other. There were seven of us, and we were each nick-named after one day of the week. I was assinged Saturday, everyone's favorite day. I had trouble remembering everyone's day at first, but I got the hang of it by the end of the school year.
Over the next seven years, I went through school and life as happy as any young boy should be. I had several "crushes" on several different girls, but I focused most of my time on learning. My mother became fed up with my father's laziness, and, boy, did she go off on him one night. I remember coming home in the middle of the confrontation, and having to stand there as my mother and father cursed at each other and watch as my father walked out. I was fourteen then, and my mother became my worst enemy. I blamed her for my father leaving, even though I knew it wasn't really her fault. It was around this time that I started to hide my feelings from everyone, or just tried to stay away from feelings all together. Feelings got hurt; they were a weakness, and should be avoided.
Well, the separetion wasn't long, and my dad came back within a few weeks. He never really apologized for leaving, but he stuck around for a while. When I turned sixteen, he started taking "paid vacations," even though he didn't have a job. He would suddenly leave, disappearing for months at a time, and then suddenly return as if he's only gone shopping. Six months ago, he left again, and my mother and I haven't heard from him since. My mother recently lost her job as a hotel cleaning lady, so I've been looking for a job to help out until she can find another one.
So, I'm in love. Actually, I'm completely head-over-heels, madly in love and hopelessly devoted to my dearest Friday. I just can't help myself, I've loved her for years, but I only worked up the guts to ask her out last year. I asked for a relationship, and, though I wasn't shot down, I was met with "I want an open relationship." I was crushed, but decided to take what I could get from my one and only love. Sure, we have an intimate relationship, but I am constantly reminded that Friday will never truly be mine. We've been 'dating' (if you can even call it that) for a while now, and I want to be more. I want her to be serious about our relationship, and I've voiced this multiple times, but she never agrees. I know I'll never want someone else, and, though I don't like showing my true feelings, I can express myself in ways I never imagined when I'm with Friday. It's truly unfortunate, but she loves to drink and do drugs and have sex (with almost anyone, usually when she's drunk). I tolerate the drugs and drinking, and usually I can handle the fact that she has sex with other men, but I won't be able to stand these habits forever. I want to help her, if only she'd let me.
Now, I suppose I should cover the.. accident. I wasn't necessarily close with Sunday. I mean, we were great friends, but I never really knew her on a personal level. Still, her death hit everyone hard, including me. I couldn't imagine the week without her. I've been forced to watch as my friends' lives spiral out of control from their grief. I'm the most level-headed of the week--which I find ironic since I'm Saturday, the day most peope go out and have a wild time--and everyone knows I'm intelligent and analytical. I still prefer to avoid emotions, but it's becoming increasingly hard with recent events. I just don't want what's left of the week to be torn apart. I know Sunday would have wanted us to be strong, and she would have held everyone together, if she were still here.
What are you like? Um, I guess you could call me a 'nice guy.' I like to see other people happy, but I usually won't go out of my way for that to happen. For example, I'll do favors if I'm asked, but I won't just randomly buy things for people without a decent reason. I enjoy being happy, and not much can take my happiness away from me, though I don't really show it.
I over-analyse the majority of situations I'm presented with, which can lead to either very good outcomes, or very bad outcomes. Usually, I consider this a good trait, but sometimes I can make the simplest things seem extremely compicated. This goes hand-in-hand with my stoic attitude. Emotions tend to get in the way of making sensible decisions, and I wouldn't be able to think the way that I do if I were to let so called "feelings" cloud my mind.
Yes, it's true that I'm typically described as a "genius," but I disagree with this statement completely. It's no secret that I'm very intelligent, but I've had my IQ tested and, though it is above average, it does not quite reach genius level. Wow, that sounds more conceited than I thought. Anyway, I use my knowledge to keep me calm. I know that panicing in the face of the unknown will do nothing beneficial, so I deal with unpleasent situations logically. I've been dealing with Sunday's death very logically, and I'm following the stages of grief closely. I monitor my friends' behavior and try to help them when I can, but I almost think there's nothing I can do to help them anymore.
I always have very high expectations of people, so, naturally, I believe that my friends and I will bounce back eventually, myself probably sooner than the others. Of course, I know it will take a very long time for that to happen, but I believe that anyone can get over grief, and anyone can change with a little help.
Speaking of change, I have faith that Friday will eventually become sick of the drugs and the drinking and, hopefully, the sex with countless men. I have faith that she can change for the better. Now, I don't necessarily need her to change, but I know for a fact that I can't be with her for much longer if she won't commit to me.
Faith is a touchy subject for me. I was raised to have faith in many things; God, humanity, myself. While I believe (loosely) in the power of humanity, I have trouble believing that I can make an impact on the world. Actually, I doubt that I can make a big impact on any of my friends' lives at the moment. They all seem so miserable and lost, but I don't know what to do for them.
Name some things you love. Things I love. Hmm.. Well, I enjoy watching the leaves change colors in the fall. I love to sit outside on a flannel blanket and just watch the clouds go by during the summer. I just generally like to be outside. As for music, I enjoy the bluegrass and indie folk scene. I love to kick back with my acoustic guitar and strum along to one of my many favorite Bright Eyes songs, or maybe crack out my mandolin and play a little Nickel Creek. I love stringed instruments, but I've only been playing the guitar for two years; the mandolin for six months. I love the first sip of a glass of homemade lemonade, and I love watching condensation run down my glass. While I love being outside, I'm never opposed to laying in my bed and just letting my mind wander. I'm not a huge fan of television, but when I do turn mine on I love to watch medical documentaries and old musicals from the early 90s. I love small animals, my pet chipmunk Tilly being at the top of the list. I love V-neck shirts and leather pants, and just clothes in general. Obviously, I love Friday, but I can enjoy a little flirting with others here and there.
And some things you hate. Well, I don't necessarily hate many things, but among my list of things that I strongly dislike are the following: ignorance and pointless arguments, when people become so impatient that they get angry, people who give up easily, quitters, when people dye their hair crazy colors (like bright green or pink), large dogs, and sweating.
Some hobbies? I always set aside some time for myself. During this time I like to read, play soccer, or maybe jog a few miles. I absolutely love to swim, whether it be in a chlorinated pool or our in the ocean. I like to pick flowers for my mother when she's upset, to make her feel better, and I love to play guitar and mandolin.
What are you famous for? I have a photographic memory, which has helped me through school all these years. I can listen to a song twice and figure out every chord or tab on guitar, thanks to endless practice over the past few years. I'm decent at cutting hair; I cut my own and many people seem to like it. Um, I would say I have almost endless tolerance and patience, but I don't think that counts as a talent, or at least not an artistic one. Oh, I'm a fantastic interior designer, if that counts for anything.
Anything else? I found Tilly, my chipmunk, as a small newborn laying in the grass in my back yard eight months ago. She was bleeding, and I decided to see if the vet could do anything. Turns out she just had a small cut and a broken leg, and the vet suggested I look after her, since she was both injured and albino, and would most likely get eaten if I released her. So, I kept her until she healed, but couldn't find it in me to let her go. Over the past eight months, I've domesticated her very well, so she's just like a house cat.
Who are you really? x Ishiyo Star |
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Posted: Sat Jun 18, 2011 5:09 pm
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Shiloh Arabeth Trevell 
What's your name again? Shiloh Trevell
What should I call you? Tuesday. Only if you are my friend. Others call me Shi
Can I ask how old you are? sixteen
When's your birthday? Sixteenth of October
Height? 5' 9"
Weight...? hundred eighteen pounds
Eyes? a dark blue with a few flecks of green
Hair, dye, et cetera. natural dirty blond with a few highlights
What's your life like? My life has been fairly simple and easy going til the very end where it turns upside down. I'm the middle child of three. My older brother, Raven, and my younger sister, Tallulah, I have come to care for very much. I don't see them as much as I should. Raven has gone off to college and Tallulah spends much of her time with father. She is only my half sister, because my father couldn't keep it in his pants. They still live in the same city and all, but I would rather not visit. My mother was destroyed and that is when she went into her depression.
Before my younger sister was born we had a pretty normal life. My brother and I hardly fought and mother and father was happy. We weren't spoiled kids but we sure was not poor. However, my earlier life was spent in bed. I was sickly at a young age and the parents were very protective of their little girl. So I stayed at home while others went to school. In the first grade, or what should have been, I had surgery. Yeah, it sucks having something that big happen to a young girl, but hey it made me better. After a few months I wasn't stuck in my bed. Few more months I was enrolled in school.
It was surprising how quickly I made friends. Six actually. Great, great, awesome friends who I love. I would always try to find a way to go over to their houses, or do something fun with them. Most of all I was best friends with Sunday. I loved the others, but Anna and I were inseparable. We could easily be a bunch of goof balls and cause a bit of trouble here and there. They however did get in a few fights here and there, but we always got over it and made up. That night we fought. It wasn't our usual fight. It was more intense and it was about a boy. Monday actually. We both kind of liked him, but it was obvious he liked her more. I was frustrated and jealous and unsealed my anger on her. She knew how I felt and tried to calm me down, but I wouldn't stand for it. She left saying she was going to the movies with Friday and I could come when I calmed down a bit. I didn't go. I stayed at home, locked away in my room, angry. It wasn't til the next day that I found out what had happened. I was destroyed.
The past few days have been rough. No one knows what happened that night. Friday hasn't said anything to me so I'm pretty sure she doesn't know. That was one thing I loved Sunday for. Even though we had problems they were between the two of us. I wish I could have told her I was sorry for what happened. I wish I could die and that she could come back to this world. I would try to commit suicide, but I'm a coward. My depression, like my mother, has sunk in and now everything in my world is crashing down.
What are you like? If anyone was bipolar it would be me. I can go from super fun loving and hyper to the biggest b***h in the world. On my good days I'm a nice person who you can count on, my bad days I'm cold and a bit of a loner, and on my really bad days I'm the b***h. Lately the bad days outnumber the good. It hasn't been easy, these past couple days, but I try to keep a smile on my face. However, they seem to be fake and my friends call me out on it. I speak my mind and I let people know how I'm feeling. I sometimes try to lock up my emotions but I end up unleashing and it isn't pretty.
I'm a nice person usually. Calm, cool, and collected. Well I used to be. I still can be when I want to. I'm loving towards my friends and family. I would do just about anything for the. I have tried to stay happy and calm for them. Days have been rough without Sunday, but I have to be strong for those who are here. Sure some days I break down, but others I put on that fake smiled and face the world. I stand up for what I believe in and I won't back down when things get rough. Bold and daring. I fight with everything in me. I have a good sense of humor and can be a little childish at times.
As I have said I'm a b***h. I have a short temper and can be really mean. I can be a bit of a snob and if I don't get what I want I can throw a fit. Ha ha, just kidding. I'm not a snot nose brat who has to have everything. I like attention but I won't do certain things for it. I do throw fits however. I hardly talk anymore and I don't make eye contact with people. It's not that I'm shy I just don't like dealing with people much. I'm off in my own world and I don't like when people bother me. I can get very angry and upset easily. It doesn't take much really. I don't like being touched and I don't like being told what to do. These and the very mention of Sunday's name set me off. It upsets me greatly and I have cried more than I have ever done in my who life. Depression runs in my family and I hate how it controls me sometimes. I have to fight every morning, everyday, just to continue on.
Name some things you love. Candy, mostly sour gummy worms or anything sour. I like more classical music, like from video games. Inon Zur is the best and I also love music by Jesper Kyd. Don't get me wrong I love other types of music, but nothing gets me more in the mood for anything than video game music. Actual people I love to listen to that you might know are Lady Gaga, Skye Sweetnam, Flyleaf, 30 Seconds to Mars, and Florence and the Machine. I love summer. I'm a very summer person for I love skirts and tank tops. I don't know how I would manage to survive up north. You probably already know this but video games are my passion. All kinds too, but mostly role playing one. Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion is my all time favorite. I could probably continue on with everything I like and go into extreme detail about why, so I'm just gonna leave this with one more thing. Potatoes. Odd in know, but they are my favorite food. Potato chips, baked potatoes, mashed potatoes. You name it I'll eat it.
And some things you hate. Dislikes....himmm, I really don't know. I should start with candy since that is where I started with likes. I hate artificial banana and raspberry. It is just gross. Music; I don't listen to country music if my life depended on it. My mother listens to country and it is all depressing. Last thing I want right now. I'm not a huge fan for rap but I will put up with it. It isn't all that bad.(Some of it) I hate the cold. I'm always getting sick when the temperature changes. Colds are the worst thing to have and I'm always freaking out because I can't breath through my nose. I don't like being lied to. I don't care for secrets just don't lie to my face.
Some hobbies? Baking. I love to bake cupcakes. I'm awesome at making homemade frosting too. I like to make my own clothes and write my own music. I play video games on a daily basis.
What are you famous for? I can play piano, dance ballet, and draw. I like drawing people rather than landscapes. I can never have them come out right. I can also do a lot more than ballet, but that is what I'm best at.
Anything else? Mother wants to move away from our home. Why? To get away from everything that has happened. She hopes it would make me better, so that I forget my friends and all the pain. Really I think it is just her who is trying to run away.
Who are you really? Princess_Cousland |
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Posted: Sun Jun 19, 2011 11:48 pm
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Christopher Michael Thomas 
What's your name again? Christopher Thomas
What should I call you? Thursday pleaseee. Only the non-week freaks call me Chris.
Can I ask how old you are? Seventeen, only for a few more months though
When's your birthday? January 11th
Height? 6' 2"
Weight...? 143lbs. Weighed myself last night so that's accurate.
Eyes? Brown. Kind of like chestnutty... I guess. Probably should've paid attention in color class(sarcasm)
Hair, dye, et cetera. Dark brown. Plain n' simple.
What's your life like?
Well I grew up in a 2 story house with a white picket fen-- No.Haha not even close. My father ran off with a stripper (she sends me christmas presents. Mostly playboy magazines that I light on fire) and my mom hates my guts (well, she acts like it. I know she doesn't but she very rarely shows any love.). I have an older sister name Marcie. She lives in France with her Fiance. They're kind of cute together.
My grandmother has lived next door to us all of my life and she has always been super sweet to me and my sister. She treated us like her own and I was destroyed when she died 2 years ago. I miss her like crazy. My grandfather is still alive and he doesn't remember her dying, just her. He has alzheimer's and had forgotten about her death. He's always asking where she is and it's so depressing to have to tell him everyday that she's dead. Tears well up in his eyes and it makes me want to just build a time machine, travel to the year they find a cure and give it to him. I can't take his sadness anymore. It kills me everyday.
I've never really lived an "awesome" life. I got my buddies and that's all that matters to me. I never really see my dad, since he doesn't even want me anyways. But the stripper, her name is Claire, does... *shivers*. I get into fights with my mom a lot and before Sunday died, I would always go to her house after a majority of said fights to stay for a few days. I'd always go back and we would apoligize. It would almost be like she would start caring, but 10 minutes later, it would be all gone again. Yup. My life is amazing. How bout yours?
What are you like? I'm a very laid back kind of guy. I don't like conflict, even though it always seems to find me. I hate the silence. It's probably the loudest thing I have ever heard. It's terrible. I like to make people feel happy. I guess you could say I'm optimistic. I like to have fun, but not like Friday. Hahah. I'll say it as it is. I won't beat around the bush. If I don't like you or if I don't like what you're doing, I'll tell you. I'll have no doubt about it. I can be very vocal also, when it's needed of course. I know when to shut the hell up and when to talk.
I can be funny. It fails most of the time though. I'm very poetic and you'll hear me constantly singing or humming something. I don't like education. I don't need it. I got everything I need (Thursday). I'm a hopeless romantic. I love making girls feel like princesses. I can be a bitttt perverted but I keep it under control around girls. Get to know me. It'll be easier for you to see my personality, rather than have me explain it.
Name some things you love. Poems, Chocolate, Weekends, Batman and Love.
And some things you hate. Spiders, Idiots, Bad drivers, Lemons and Shopping
Some hobbies? Cooking and Writing
What are you famous for? Writing poems and Writing songs
Anything else? I can kind of dance.
Who are you really? iiMorgann |
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