Post by elliott isabelle priestly on Nov 15, 2009 23:24:13 GMT -5
here's the day you hoped would
never come don't feed me violins just
run with me through rows of speeding
cars, the paper cuts the cheating lovers
the coffee's never strong enough, i know
you think it's more than just bad luck
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Elliott Isabelle Simone Priestly
"El, Elli, Li, Isa, Belle, Sim, Priestly"
"Standing at five feet, four inches, I'm anything but ordinary in my stylish clothes that often consist of the season's latest, and hottest trends. My hair can often be seen a medium length, dark brown, espresso shaded flowing over my shoulders either wavy or straight, however, almost always down in silky strands that seem as if I've just stepped out of an herbal essences commercial.
My eyes are said to be my best feature, as not only are they divine and mesmerizing, but different, and extremely unique as well. While many often believe I'm wearing contacts, my eyes are naturally a lavender shaded gray, and while it is unnecessary, I often accent them with a little eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara for a smoky and mysterious look which often leaves your average male very intrigued, and the toddler they walk around with in their pants, very excited, but careful, because one death stare, and you might feel as if it's your last minute on earth.
I have a pale complexion where my French roots are concerned, and while I should have a pasty skin tone, my Italian roots put a touch of color on me that allows me to illuminate a flawless glow with or without makeup.
With a very distinctive set of small, rosy lips, often coated in chap stick, this spunky brunette has a set of dimples that could make any man's heart melt, and as far as my pearly whites go, I hope you have a pair of sun glasses.
While I may be into the latest fashions, I much prefer a comfortable pair of loose jeans, a nice, sturdy pair of work boots, some sweatpants, a comfortable and over sized sweatshirt or a tight and white t-shirt covered by an over sized flannel.
A novel could be written about this short and scrappy young lass, but I'll spare you the time you need to save the world, or destroy it, by finishing with my body. I have a thin body, standing at five feet, four inches. I have a flat stomach and am fairly toned, but refuse to overdue it in fear of turning into one of those unattractive over muscled women.
I have a tattoo of a black widow weaving my father's initials on the small of my back, as well as several piercings including two on each of her earlobes, and two on my left cartilage. I also plan to get my tongue pierced in the near future.
As far as scars go, I have plenty from the abuse I went through as a child, however, the one that bothers me most is the small line that looks as if it could be a caterpillar above my right eyebrow from a broken beer bottle during one of my mother's drunken rage blackouts.
Coffee
Coffee is my life. I really only need that one sentence to explain to you you how important coffee is in my life. I need at least one cup every day, however, usually end up with six flowing through my system by the end of each day. The aroma is heavenly and the taste warms me while the actual warmth of the dark brown shaded liquid fills my soul, sweeping me off my feet into a heaven for the five minutes the cup actually lasts. If I were ever sick, they would need an IV filled with pure coffee just to keep me going. In fact, most of my friends and family have begun to refer to me as a coffee-holic.
Music
I'm not in love with all music. let's just get that straight. I listen to classic rock, country, mullet rock and heavy metal. Anything else is pretty much a waste of time with me.
Music is a big part of my life. In fact, I can't go more than five seconds in a day without listening to a song, and if I have to, you'll probably see me tapping my toes to a beat I'll be playing in my head.
I had a bad habit of annoying teachers by tapping my pencil on my desk to any rhythm that happened to be playing silently in my head during tests of study periods.
I can't stand the silence so there always has to be something playing whether it's out loud or to myself. My life is incomplete without it.
Dance
I live and breath dance.
I started dancing when I was two years old and I haven't stopped, nor have I ever wanted to. If you can name a dance, I can probably preform. I am captain of our school's cheerleading squad, and I worked around a lot of gymnastics so, you could probably make a safe bet on me being flexible, of course, no one would know better than the guys in Hallisay, Scotland.
That was a joke by the way.
Getting back on track, however, dancing has always been my main passion. i can dance ballet, hip hop, tap, the waltz, tango and rumba, hell, I can even pull off a pretty mean Mexican hat dance. I love to dance, and that's pretty much the period at the end of the statement. There is no alternative in my life.
Candles
I love burning candles around my home. I love watching them burn and I love the pleasant scents they bring to the atmosphere. I can guarantee you that none of my homes ever smelt foul. I am constantly cleaning and constantly burning candles so anywhere I may have lived, or live now, or in the future will always smell amazing. Oh, and if they don't have candles where I'm going, like a hotel room, you can bet your ass I have one packed.
Rain
I love the sound of rain, especially at night when your eyes are closing and the last sound you hear is the gentle cry from the skies above, the tiny droplets of water crashing upon your window sill, and the gentle shadows it leaves upon your walls.
Everything about rain is soothing and calming, and I can't say it isn't fun either. I mean, come on, who doesn't love to jump in a good rain puddle every now and then? Don't even get me started on the scent it leaves in a field or garden. I think it's the best scent to just wake up in the morning after a long night's rain and have that dew lingering in the air while the sun gently warms your skin.
I swear, if it rained every night for the rest of my life, I really wouldn't have much to complain about.
Fashion
I love clothes, and if I'm not at the dance studio, out on a date, or spending time with family all cozy at home, you can bet your ass I'm spending daddy's money at the mall or a quaint little boutique in town.
I don't always spend money in stores and boutiques, however. I tend to be very handy with a pencil, some sketch paper, fabrics, threads, and a sewing machine. Fashion is an addiction for me, and while it may not be the most important aspect of my life, its definitely a part of who I am. I'm always dressing my best. The world of fashion had me hooked as early as the age of eight.
Some of my other interests include eating healthy, exercising, pie and cupcakes, jewelery, costume jewelery, shoes, accessories, water, social events, social drinking, photography, traveling, art, museums, aquariums, essential oils, poetry, novels, body sprays, showers, beaches, all of the seasons for different reasons, and photography. Of course, I do have a lot more interests than the ones listed, but I'll spare you the autobiography. Haha.
I don't have too many dislikes. I pretty much enjoy life, however, i can tell you that clowns creep the hell out of me. Anything with ten tons of colors drowning it from head to toe and a painted on smile, in all truth, can't be trusted. Also, I don't know any normal person who's nose honks. If you feel the need to dress up like that, you need to be placed in a nice white, padded cell, and binded by a straight jacket.
I'm also not a big fan of anything sticky or slimy. It's just not natural in my eyes, and it leaves a really awkward, unwanted feeling against your skin. If I had to live the rest of my life without ever having to encounter anything sticky or slimy again, I probably wouldn't complain.
Insects and Bugs. The creepy crawlies get a rise out of me. I understand that all creatures, big and small have their purpose, but they need to go on with their creepy and disgusting little lives without bugging me. Creeping and crawling around in my home or in my car, it's just not ideal.
I loathe all types of racism or prejudice. i think any form of it is disgusting and any person, no matter what the color of your skin is or what nationality you come from, deserves to be treated with respect. We're all equals, and if you cut us, we'll bleed the same color. If you're that insecure about yourself that you need to hate others because of silly reasons such as what country their ancestors are from, or what the color of their skin is, you're a pathetic excuse of a human being.
The last two things I'll mention that I am not fond of are cheaters and abortion. I've been cheated on before, and I know how badly it can hurt you, and how deep it can cut you. I'm not supportive of it and I won't tolerate it. As for abortions, they're wrong. Abortions are murder no matter what stage of pregnancy you are at. If you don't want your child, let some one who does, raise them, don't kill them.
I like to consider myself quite intelligent. If I'm not living up my life in my poor excuse of a meaningless existence compared to the universe, you can probably find my nose in a book.
A great strength of mine is my power of persuasion. I've gotten myself out of some sticky situations, and I have to be grateful that I haven't gotten myself into as much trouble as I probably should have been in during the sixteen years of my life.
I'm somewhat physically strong, and I'm quite scrappy and feisty. My energy and tough attitude often keeps the majority of the human population from messing with me, and it's better that way. I really don't want to find out what it's like to be bullied, and I could go my entire life without the feeling of what it's like to be slapped around or mugged.
I'm rather independent, and it's a great confidence booster. I very seldom feel as if I need anyone to complete my life. I know who I am, and I'm aware of where I came from, and I know what's going on in the world, and I can survive on my own. While I do live off of daddy's money, I do work my ass off at my job, and I o have my own savings. I'm not some spoiled brat, although, sometimes, you'd disagree.
I am considerate, and kind, and I'm also a great listener with a lot of advice to offer. People often flock to me for help or advice, and my consideration only adds on to my popularity, not that I'm keeping track or anything. XP
I'm talented in many areas including art, speaking different languages, designing clothing, and several sports and activities. I am just an overall well rounded individual, as well as extremely organized. It helps a lot in life, and while I may have only reached the halfway mark of my junior year of high school, colleges have already begun to consider me to attend their school.
My spitfire, sarcastic tongue has often gotten me in trouble, and while I'm usually able to squirm my way out of the majority of situations I get myself into, not even my powers of persuasion can save me from everything, especially when I begin to go off on some one.
My family. If anything were to ever happen to any one in my close circle of family, I would never forgive myself. I love them so dearly, and I think I would do just about anything for them.
While I am well rounded, and damned organized, if I do say so myself I am often too tied up perfecting my physical image to be on time to any event or special occasion. It's gotten to the point where every one naturally expects me to be fashionably late.
My mother. I often fear turning into her, which leaves my strength in relationships less than desirable. I often find myself afraid to get too close with a boy in fear of getting too attached to him a my mother did with my father. I fear becoming psychotic, and harming some one I love. Speaking of love, it is my major weakness in this case. Although I've been through many psychiatrists office, I still remember the stained version of love my mother showed me, and I find love to be less than desirable. It holds me back from a lot of what life has to offer.
Shopping. It's definitely a weakness of mine, and I engage in this addictive activity every time I feel psychologically incomplete or depressed. I fill most of my holes with a new pair of shoes or a shiny new piece of jewelery, and then of course, there's always the ten or twelve shopping bags I haul to my car after every trip to that beautifully big building called mall.
A good read. It's weird, but I do enjoy reading, and I'm a sucker for any well written, original book. I can never seem to put them down, even if I've read them twenty times already.
I fear losing my father to any disease or cruel fate. He's the most important person in my life, and I think I'd fall apart without him.
While I often claim my mother passed away while giving birth to me, she is actually locked away in a white padded room in a straight jacket back home in Paris, France after attempting to murder me as a result of post pardum depression
I was born on November eighteenth in the year nineteen ninety one.
My cousins are the two most important people in my life. They are my best friends, and we are extremely close to one another. My male cousin is eighteen, and my female cousin is my age, seventeen.
No one, however, can compare with my father. He is my life, and my ultimate best friend, and it may sound odd for a teenage girl to be so close with her father, but, he's the pride and joy in my life. I couldn't live without him.
I'm a pretty down to earth girl. I'll be the first to admit, however, that I've been spoiled my whole life, and I have never hated it. Like all people, I have my ditsy moments, but for the most part, I'm pretty damn intelligent. I am sassy, and sarcastic as hell, and I'm pretty damn feisty and scrappy. I'm mature, for the most part, but I love to have a good time, so I can get pretty crazy.
I was born in Paris, France, in the year nineteen eighty nine on November eighteenth to the most successful doctor in all of Europe, and his beautiful and blushing bride. I was supposed to be their love child, the light in their already lit world, and the continuation of the family they'd started with one another and the home they'd built with one another. They welcomed me into their lives with open arms, brought me home with them and loved me as I should have been loved, as their own flesh and blood.
I was daddy's spoiled little princess, and mommy's angel, and life may have seemed perfect from the outside, but on the inside of our home, a monster lingered about, a monster that referred to itself with the name postpartum depression that controlled my mother when no one was around to see it's evil deeds.
I was only two years old when this started. my mother would constantly hit me and slam me into walls. She would cut me with kitchen knives and burn me with candles. I remember her screaming at the top of her lungs that it was my fault that she was like this. She would tell me it was my fault that daddy had to work overtime, and was too tired to spend any time with her any longer. She'd tell me it was my fault that she was fat and ugly. She would blame me for most anything and make sure I felt the consequences, not in guilt or sorrow, but in physical pain.
It wasn't until her first homicidal attempt did my father catch her dirty and mischievous deeds. I remember her screaming rant of a fit and the searing pain burning through my scalp as she dragged my fragile three year old body from bed to the top of the stairs. I don't remember what she'd yelled, but she pushed me down the long flight of stairs. The last thing i heard before falling unconscious was my father's voice yelling, crying out in agony and pain.
I didn't know where my mother had gone, and the first person I'd seen when opening my eyes was my father. I was too weak and bruised to hug him, and I remember being scared from the memory, from the flashbacks, and from the beeping sounds the hospital made. I remember crying and having nightmares for months after that, but my father would always be there in a heartbeat when I'd wake up screaming and crying in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
It took the best team of child psychologists and years of talking to them while clinging on to my father to convince me that no one would ever hurt me like that again, that my father would protect me.
Time moved on, and while my scars still remain, my wounds have healed. Life had a new beginning, and a new chapter in the book titled 'Caprice Emlyn Priestly'.
Dancing has always been my escape from the reality of pain I was born into, but at the age of eight, I found another distraction from the nightmares haunting me on a nightly basis. In second grade, I found the world of fashion, and it escalated from there, and in fourth grade, my father, with an okay from my psychiatrists and therapists, packed our bags and moves us to Red Michigan Hills, Michigan to provide a fresh start for me. I still go to a psychiatrist, but getting away from the home in which provided much fear and many nightmares for me gave me freedom, and peace of mind.
In sixth grade, our class began a dare program. Basically, a students against drugs kind of class. A police officer would come in once a week to teach us about the less than thrilling consequences of smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol and the use of drugs. Of course, it was only natural that I would become one of the rebels in my class to get their hands on cigarettes and alcohol, and while I'd never had any interest in drugs, I did find ways to have a good time.
It was only weeks after the dare program had ended, and we all supposedly graduated, that we were introduced to human anatomy, and what came with it. It was somewhere near the end of the year that I decided to lose my virginity and get it over with. A dear friend of mine, Brayden Barnes, was the guy I chose to strip me of the small amount of innocence I had left. It was kept a secret from my father. Of course, he'd known I'd lost my virginity, however, it was never disclosed at what age with him.
For the longest time, I was afraid of commitment, and so I slept around. I got known as a slut, and became the easy girl for guys to go with, but the summer after sophomore year, that all changed when I visited my aunt in California. I only spent a summer every once in a blue moon with her, and it was usually pretty lame, but she'd surprised me by inviting one of the closest friends I had in California over. He'd become tall, dark and handsome, and overall, the top of the rare amount of Prince Charmings left in the cruel world. He'd changed so much from when we were kids that I'd hardly recognized him.
He swept me off my feet and we had this amazing fling, but all things end with a bang, and at the end of the summer, I had no choice but to return home. It was then my father told me that my behavior had gotten out of control, and that he'd be shipping me off to New York to attend a new high school.
It was so unfair, and although I was angry with him, I still loved him, and respected him greatly. I knew he was doing it out of love, and so after a big screaming match, and a useless argument, I packed up my things, said farewell to my friends, and got to start over again. So after a few hours on a plane, and hours in a car playing only Country music later, daddy and I were in New York, and it wasn't a complete loss as the cousins I'm closest with live here. XP"
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[/size][/b][/color]Elliott Isabelle Simone Priestly
"El, Elli, Li, Isa, Belle, Sim, Priestly"
"Standing at five feet, four inches, I'm anything but ordinary in my stylish clothes that often consist of the season's latest, and hottest trends. My hair can often be seen a medium length, dark brown, espresso shaded flowing over my shoulders either wavy or straight, however, almost always down in silky strands that seem as if I've just stepped out of an herbal essences commercial.
My eyes are said to be my best feature, as not only are they divine and mesmerizing, but different, and extremely unique as well. While many often believe I'm wearing contacts, my eyes are naturally a lavender shaded gray, and while it is unnecessary, I often accent them with a little eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara for a smoky and mysterious look which often leaves your average male very intrigued, and the toddler they walk around with in their pants, very excited, but careful, because one death stare, and you might feel as if it's your last minute on earth.
I have a pale complexion where my French roots are concerned, and while I should have a pasty skin tone, my Italian roots put a touch of color on me that allows me to illuminate a flawless glow with or without makeup.
With a very distinctive set of small, rosy lips, often coated in chap stick, this spunky brunette has a set of dimples that could make any man's heart melt, and as far as my pearly whites go, I hope you have a pair of sun glasses.
While I may be into the latest fashions, I much prefer a comfortable pair of loose jeans, a nice, sturdy pair of work boots, some sweatpants, a comfortable and over sized sweatshirt or a tight and white t-shirt covered by an over sized flannel.
A novel could be written about this short and scrappy young lass, but I'll spare you the time you need to save the world, or destroy it, by finishing with my body. I have a thin body, standing at five feet, four inches. I have a flat stomach and am fairly toned, but refuse to overdue it in fear of turning into one of those unattractive over muscled women.
I have a tattoo of a black widow weaving my father's initials on the small of my back, as well as several piercings including two on each of her earlobes, and two on my left cartilage. I also plan to get my tongue pierced in the near future.
As far as scars go, I have plenty from the abuse I went through as a child, however, the one that bothers me most is the small line that looks as if it could be a caterpillar above my right eyebrow from a broken beer bottle during one of my mother's drunken rage blackouts.
Coffee
Coffee is my life. I really only need that one sentence to explain to you you how important coffee is in my life. I need at least one cup every day, however, usually end up with six flowing through my system by the end of each day. The aroma is heavenly and the taste warms me while the actual warmth of the dark brown shaded liquid fills my soul, sweeping me off my feet into a heaven for the five minutes the cup actually lasts. If I were ever sick, they would need an IV filled with pure coffee just to keep me going. In fact, most of my friends and family have begun to refer to me as a coffee-holic.
Music
I'm not in love with all music. let's just get that straight. I listen to classic rock, country, mullet rock and heavy metal. Anything else is pretty much a waste of time with me.
Music is a big part of my life. In fact, I can't go more than five seconds in a day without listening to a song, and if I have to, you'll probably see me tapping my toes to a beat I'll be playing in my head.
I had a bad habit of annoying teachers by tapping my pencil on my desk to any rhythm that happened to be playing silently in my head during tests of study periods.
I can't stand the silence so there always has to be something playing whether it's out loud or to myself. My life is incomplete without it.
Dance
I live and breath dance.
I started dancing when I was two years old and I haven't stopped, nor have I ever wanted to. If you can name a dance, I can probably preform. I am captain of our school's cheerleading squad, and I worked around a lot of gymnastics so, you could probably make a safe bet on me being flexible, of course, no one would know better than the guys in Hallisay, Scotland.
That was a joke by the way.
Getting back on track, however, dancing has always been my main passion. i can dance ballet, hip hop, tap, the waltz, tango and rumba, hell, I can even pull off a pretty mean Mexican hat dance. I love to dance, and that's pretty much the period at the end of the statement. There is no alternative in my life.
Candles
I love burning candles around my home. I love watching them burn and I love the pleasant scents they bring to the atmosphere. I can guarantee you that none of my homes ever smelt foul. I am constantly cleaning and constantly burning candles so anywhere I may have lived, or live now, or in the future will always smell amazing. Oh, and if they don't have candles where I'm going, like a hotel room, you can bet your ass I have one packed.
Rain
I love the sound of rain, especially at night when your eyes are closing and the last sound you hear is the gentle cry from the skies above, the tiny droplets of water crashing upon your window sill, and the gentle shadows it leaves upon your walls.
Everything about rain is soothing and calming, and I can't say it isn't fun either. I mean, come on, who doesn't love to jump in a good rain puddle every now and then? Don't even get me started on the scent it leaves in a field or garden. I think it's the best scent to just wake up in the morning after a long night's rain and have that dew lingering in the air while the sun gently warms your skin.
I swear, if it rained every night for the rest of my life, I really wouldn't have much to complain about.
Fashion
I love clothes, and if I'm not at the dance studio, out on a date, or spending time with family all cozy at home, you can bet your ass I'm spending daddy's money at the mall or a quaint little boutique in town.
I don't always spend money in stores and boutiques, however. I tend to be very handy with a pencil, some sketch paper, fabrics, threads, and a sewing machine. Fashion is an addiction for me, and while it may not be the most important aspect of my life, its definitely a part of who I am. I'm always dressing my best. The world of fashion had me hooked as early as the age of eight.
Some of my other interests include eating healthy, exercising, pie and cupcakes, jewelery, costume jewelery, shoes, accessories, water, social events, social drinking, photography, traveling, art, museums, aquariums, essential oils, poetry, novels, body sprays, showers, beaches, all of the seasons for different reasons, and photography. Of course, I do have a lot more interests than the ones listed, but I'll spare you the autobiography. Haha.
I don't have too many dislikes. I pretty much enjoy life, however, i can tell you that clowns creep the hell out of me. Anything with ten tons of colors drowning it from head to toe and a painted on smile, in all truth, can't be trusted. Also, I don't know any normal person who's nose honks. If you feel the need to dress up like that, you need to be placed in a nice white, padded cell, and binded by a straight jacket.
I'm also not a big fan of anything sticky or slimy. It's just not natural in my eyes, and it leaves a really awkward, unwanted feeling against your skin. If I had to live the rest of my life without ever having to encounter anything sticky or slimy again, I probably wouldn't complain.
Insects and Bugs. The creepy crawlies get a rise out of me. I understand that all creatures, big and small have their purpose, but they need to go on with their creepy and disgusting little lives without bugging me. Creeping and crawling around in my home or in my car, it's just not ideal.
I loathe all types of racism or prejudice. i think any form of it is disgusting and any person, no matter what the color of your skin is or what nationality you come from, deserves to be treated with respect. We're all equals, and if you cut us, we'll bleed the same color. If you're that insecure about yourself that you need to hate others because of silly reasons such as what country their ancestors are from, or what the color of their skin is, you're a pathetic excuse of a human being.
The last two things I'll mention that I am not fond of are cheaters and abortion. I've been cheated on before, and I know how badly it can hurt you, and how deep it can cut you. I'm not supportive of it and I won't tolerate it. As for abortions, they're wrong. Abortions are murder no matter what stage of pregnancy you are at. If you don't want your child, let some one who does, raise them, don't kill them.
I like to consider myself quite intelligent. If I'm not living up my life in my poor excuse of a meaningless existence compared to the universe, you can probably find my nose in a book.
A great strength of mine is my power of persuasion. I've gotten myself out of some sticky situations, and I have to be grateful that I haven't gotten myself into as much trouble as I probably should have been in during the sixteen years of my life.
I'm somewhat physically strong, and I'm quite scrappy and feisty. My energy and tough attitude often keeps the majority of the human population from messing with me, and it's better that way. I really don't want to find out what it's like to be bullied, and I could go my entire life without the feeling of what it's like to be slapped around or mugged.
I'm rather independent, and it's a great confidence booster. I very seldom feel as if I need anyone to complete my life. I know who I am, and I'm aware of where I came from, and I know what's going on in the world, and I can survive on my own. While I do live off of daddy's money, I do work my ass off at my job, and I o have my own savings. I'm not some spoiled brat, although, sometimes, you'd disagree.
I am considerate, and kind, and I'm also a great listener with a lot of advice to offer. People often flock to me for help or advice, and my consideration only adds on to my popularity, not that I'm keeping track or anything. XP
I'm talented in many areas including art, speaking different languages, designing clothing, and several sports and activities. I am just an overall well rounded individual, as well as extremely organized. It helps a lot in life, and while I may have only reached the halfway mark of my junior year of high school, colleges have already begun to consider me to attend their school.
My spitfire, sarcastic tongue has often gotten me in trouble, and while I'm usually able to squirm my way out of the majority of situations I get myself into, not even my powers of persuasion can save me from everything, especially when I begin to go off on some one.
My family. If anything were to ever happen to any one in my close circle of family, I would never forgive myself. I love them so dearly, and I think I would do just about anything for them.
While I am well rounded, and damned organized, if I do say so myself I am often too tied up perfecting my physical image to be on time to any event or special occasion. It's gotten to the point where every one naturally expects me to be fashionably late.
My mother. I often fear turning into her, which leaves my strength in relationships less than desirable. I often find myself afraid to get too close with a boy in fear of getting too attached to him a my mother did with my father. I fear becoming psychotic, and harming some one I love. Speaking of love, it is my major weakness in this case. Although I've been through many psychiatrists office, I still remember the stained version of love my mother showed me, and I find love to be less than desirable. It holds me back from a lot of what life has to offer.
Shopping. It's definitely a weakness of mine, and I engage in this addictive activity every time I feel psychologically incomplete or depressed. I fill most of my holes with a new pair of shoes or a shiny new piece of jewelery, and then of course, there's always the ten or twelve shopping bags I haul to my car after every trip to that beautifully big building called mall.
A good read. It's weird, but I do enjoy reading, and I'm a sucker for any well written, original book. I can never seem to put them down, even if I've read them twenty times already.
I fear losing my father to any disease or cruel fate. He's the most important person in my life, and I think I'd fall apart without him.
While I often claim my mother passed away while giving birth to me, she is actually locked away in a white padded room in a straight jacket back home in Paris, France after attempting to murder me as a result of post pardum depression
I was born on November eighteenth in the year nineteen ninety one.
My cousins are the two most important people in my life. They are my best friends, and we are extremely close to one another. My male cousin is eighteen, and my female cousin is my age, seventeen.
No one, however, can compare with my father. He is my life, and my ultimate best friend, and it may sound odd for a teenage girl to be so close with her father, but, he's the pride and joy in my life. I couldn't live without him.
I'm a pretty down to earth girl. I'll be the first to admit, however, that I've been spoiled my whole life, and I have never hated it. Like all people, I have my ditsy moments, but for the most part, I'm pretty damn intelligent. I am sassy, and sarcastic as hell, and I'm pretty damn feisty and scrappy. I'm mature, for the most part, but I love to have a good time, so I can get pretty crazy.
I was born in Paris, France, in the year nineteen eighty nine on November eighteenth to the most successful doctor in all of Europe, and his beautiful and blushing bride. I was supposed to be their love child, the light in their already lit world, and the continuation of the family they'd started with one another and the home they'd built with one another. They welcomed me into their lives with open arms, brought me home with them and loved me as I should have been loved, as their own flesh and blood.
I was daddy's spoiled little princess, and mommy's angel, and life may have seemed perfect from the outside, but on the inside of our home, a monster lingered about, a monster that referred to itself with the name postpartum depression that controlled my mother when no one was around to see it's evil deeds.
I was only two years old when this started. my mother would constantly hit me and slam me into walls. She would cut me with kitchen knives and burn me with candles. I remember her screaming at the top of her lungs that it was my fault that she was like this. She would tell me it was my fault that daddy had to work overtime, and was too tired to spend any time with her any longer. She'd tell me it was my fault that she was fat and ugly. She would blame me for most anything and make sure I felt the consequences, not in guilt or sorrow, but in physical pain.
It wasn't until her first homicidal attempt did my father catch her dirty and mischievous deeds. I remember her screaming rant of a fit and the searing pain burning through my scalp as she dragged my fragile three year old body from bed to the top of the stairs. I don't remember what she'd yelled, but she pushed me down the long flight of stairs. The last thing i heard before falling unconscious was my father's voice yelling, crying out in agony and pain.
I didn't know where my mother had gone, and the first person I'd seen when opening my eyes was my father. I was too weak and bruised to hug him, and I remember being scared from the memory, from the flashbacks, and from the beeping sounds the hospital made. I remember crying and having nightmares for months after that, but my father would always be there in a heartbeat when I'd wake up screaming and crying in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
It took the best team of child psychologists and years of talking to them while clinging on to my father to convince me that no one would ever hurt me like that again, that my father would protect me.
Time moved on, and while my scars still remain, my wounds have healed. Life had a new beginning, and a new chapter in the book titled 'Caprice Emlyn Priestly'.
Dancing has always been my escape from the reality of pain I was born into, but at the age of eight, I found another distraction from the nightmares haunting me on a nightly basis. In second grade, I found the world of fashion, and it escalated from there, and in fourth grade, my father, with an okay from my psychiatrists and therapists, packed our bags and moves us to Red Michigan Hills, Michigan to provide a fresh start for me. I still go to a psychiatrist, but getting away from the home in which provided much fear and many nightmares for me gave me freedom, and peace of mind.
In sixth grade, our class began a dare program. Basically, a students against drugs kind of class. A police officer would come in once a week to teach us about the less than thrilling consequences of smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol and the use of drugs. Of course, it was only natural that I would become one of the rebels in my class to get their hands on cigarettes and alcohol, and while I'd never had any interest in drugs, I did find ways to have a good time.
It was only weeks after the dare program had ended, and we all supposedly graduated, that we were introduced to human anatomy, and what came with it. It was somewhere near the end of the year that I decided to lose my virginity and get it over with. A dear friend of mine, Brayden Barnes, was the guy I chose to strip me of the small amount of innocence I had left. It was kept a secret from my father. Of course, he'd known I'd lost my virginity, however, it was never disclosed at what age with him.
For the longest time, I was afraid of commitment, and so I slept around. I got known as a slut, and became the easy girl for guys to go with, but the summer after sophomore year, that all changed when I visited my aunt in California. I only spent a summer every once in a blue moon with her, and it was usually pretty lame, but she'd surprised me by inviting one of the closest friends I had in California over. He'd become tall, dark and handsome, and overall, the top of the rare amount of Prince Charmings left in the cruel world. He'd changed so much from when we were kids that I'd hardly recognized him.
He swept me off my feet and we had this amazing fling, but all things end with a bang, and at the end of the summer, I had no choice but to return home. It was then my father told me that my behavior had gotten out of control, and that he'd be shipping me off to New York to attend a new high school.
It was so unfair, and although I was angry with him, I still loved him, and respected him greatly. I knew he was doing it out of love, and so after a big screaming match, and a useless argument, I packed up my things, said farewell to my friends, and got to start over again. So after a few hours on a plane, and hours in a car playing only Country music later, daddy and I were in New York, and it wasn't a complete loss as the cousins I'm closest with live here. XP"
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how can i decide what's right?.
when you're clouding up my mind.[/font][/i]
i cant win you're losing fight[/size][/b][/color]
all the time.[/font][/i]
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RIIIIIING!
That was it, the indication that fourth period had begun, and while most of the seniors who had study hall this period wasted no time in escaping the jail that bind them here every day for nine and a half months. Most of them would hop in their cars and go for an hour long joy ride, and some would run off to the library to study, yet others would simply head off to the courtyard to catch some fresh air and enjoy the warm weather Australia had to offer.
While Caprice would have usually been using the opportunity to spend time with Decklen or Summer, or even sun bathe in the courtyard or on their schools stadium field, she found herself with a trouble mind and heart pacing back and forth in front of classroom number two hundred and forty.
She'd never quite understood how they'd come up with the numbers for the classrooms in this school, but today, the big, black, bold numbers painted on every wooden door lining the empty hallways was the last thing on her mind. Instead, memories of her summer's past flooded her mind, between sweet kisses and steamy, foggy sexual intercourse. They'd had dinner, lunch, and breakfast together, walked along the beach holding hands, spent lazy afternoons watching movies or playing video games, and on endlessly romantic and perfect nights they would spend their time getting to know everything about each other. Their fling had been her ideal vision of a relationship, and when the summer was over, she was called back home into the loving arms of her boyfriend, and he was called back to work. Never had she expected to see Maxwell Read in her first period English class..teaching the class!
Caprice's heels clicked against the marble floor as she took deep breaths, one right after another, attempting to calm her racing heart and ease her nerves.
"This can't happen.."
She nodded her head in agreement with herself, taking another deep breath before continuing, still pacing outside of the empty classroom, the classroom she knew he was sitting inside of creating a curriculum or putting together a homework assignment.
"He's a teacher..and you're his student..and you didn't know!"
It had sounded more convincing in her head than it had out loud in the empty hallways. It was consoling to know that he had been just as surprised to see her, however, as she had been to see him.
Caprice played over the past few months events in her head. She still couldn't understand how she'd missed it, how she hadn't known he was a teacher at her school. Neither of this had seen this coming, and while Caprice wasn't big on surprises, she was big on fairy tales, fate and serendipitous occurrences.
Picking her feet up, the feisty brunette began pacing back and forth again, her heels echoing throughout the bare hallways as she desperately attempted to organize her thoughts, make any sense out of the situation at all. She was scared out of her wits at the moment.
Caprice had always known her heart belonged to Decklen. Their group of friends had hung out together since grade school or longer, and while she hadn't truly known Decklen until seventh grade, she'd known at hello that he would be the one to take care of her for the rest of her life through drunken rages and sincere moments. It wasn't long until the two hit it off, becoming best friends, and eventually, lovers.
Now, with the cheating mess he'd created, she'd drowned her sorrows in shots of whiskey and beers. leading her to Max, a rebound man she'd never believed she'd see again, and while she could have wished away the memories, pretended none of it had ever happened to subside her guilty conscience, she would have been lying to herself, she would have been untrue to her heart which had become completely infatuated with him. He was everything she'd been wishing for and more.
"Ugh!"
She groaned, sliding her back against the wall before plopping down on the ground, running her hands through her hair out of frustration. She couldn't believe this was happening, and at the same time, she couldn't completely say she was sorry it had.
"Mr. Read.."
Caprice wrinkled her nose up at the sound of the name the man had given to his class today. It had made him sound so old, and it made her feel uncomfortable thinking of him with the title mister. She'd grown so used to Max that any other title sounded odd belonging to him.
"Oh boy.."
Oh boy was right and she was ready to give in. What exactly she was giving into was unclear at the moment.
all the things she said, all the things she said
running through my head, running through my mind, running through my head
all the things she said, all the things she said
running through my head, all the things she said
this is not enough
Caprice lifted herself from the ground taking one more deep breath before placing her hand on the silver knob of the heavy, wooden door, but she paused again, biting her bottom lip gently. Her heart had begun pounding again, and she couldn't believe she was about to do this. Half of her knew she had to for his sake, and for hers. She had to be strong, fight against her weak, and fragile teenage heart to protect both of them.
i'm in serious shit, i feel totally lost
if i'm asking for help, it's only because
being with you has opened my eyes
could i ever believe such a perfect surprise?
Slowly turning the knob to the door, she felt paralyzed, her whole being growing numb as she tried to center herself from having been torn between two different worlds.
i keep asking myself, wondering how
i keep closing my eyes, but i can't block you out
wanna fly to a place where it's just you and me
nobody else, so we can be free
There wasn't any other time, there was a here and now, and this couldn't wait any longer. Biting harder onto her bottom lip, a look of pain crossed her face as she looked over her shoulder one last time to make sure they'd be alone. and when she was almost positive they were, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and prayed for a miracle.
all the things she said, all the things she said
running through my head, running through my head, running through my head
all the things she said, all the things she said
running through my head, running through my head, all the things she said
this is not enough, this is not enough
Dodging into the classroom in a quick and swift motion as if she were a government spy lurking around the building, Caprice practically slammed the door behind her, quickly straightening her posture and smiling sweetly towards the charming brunette.
"Hi.."
She waved her hand in an over dramatic gesture before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. This was unreal, facing the man she'd spent all summer infatuated with in an awkward face to face.
i'm all mixed up, feeling cornered and rushed
they say it's my fault but i want her so much
wanna fly her away where the sun and rain
come in over my face, wash away all the shame
Her cheeks were a pale pink color as she tried connecting the perfect words she had up in her head with the words that would roll off of the tip of her tongue, and as she struggled with the adjustment, she remained silent, a pain stricken look on her face.
She never spoke, instead, she stood struggling with the temptation to march up to him and press her lips against her, but there's only so long you could fight temptation.
when they stop and stare, don't worry me
cause i'm feeling for her what she's feeling for me
i can try to pretend, i can try to forget
but it's driving me mad, going out of my head
Caprice let go of everything in that moment, including her strength and independence, and in the heat of the moment, looking into his coffee shaded eyes, she marched right up to him, placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him, her lips pressing firmly against his. She needed it back, the warmth he brought when he held her in his arms, and the weakness that surged throughout her body every time their lips met in a passionate embrace.
She couldn't get herself together, she was soaking in the pain of all of it, and while she allowed herself to continue kissing him, her mind race back to thoughts of Decklen. She'd promised him he'd had her heart all along, but it was a lie. The truth was, her heart was drifting, and while this couldn't possibly work, she still felt herself losing grip on the realty she'd just found was a lie.
Pulling back, she took a step back, looking, boldly, and directly into his eyes.
"I'm sorry.."
Tears formed in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She felt terrible for having lied to him.
"I am so sorry for having lied.."
She paused, collecting her thoughts and taking a deep breath before speaking again.
"I shouldn't have, but you can't deny what we felt.."
She said it without hesitation, knowing he'd felt as completely infatuated with her as she'd been with him. Everything they'd had was completely, and undeniably real.
"that doesn't change just because of this..how old I really am, and who we are.."
She was one hundred percent positive in every word she spoke, but she'd lost track of why she'd truly come into the classroom, and when she'd organized herself enough to remember, the pain started all over again, butterflies quickly multiplying and fluttering in her stomach while she grew nauseous and a lump formed in her throat.
"If I had known..I would have stopped it so it wouldn't come to this..Max.."
Max. As accustomed as she'd become to calling him by that name, it sounded so inappropriate in their current position, standing in a classroom. She started her sentence over, finding the strength to carry her through her words, grudgingly speaking them.
"Max, I just don't think this would be good for either of us."
She stood strong to back her words up, although any one in their right mind could see how weak she truly was under all of it. She didn't want to speak them. She wanted him to push his papers aside and lay her on his desk before taking complete control of her.
"You have your career to look at and I have.."
She paused, not believing at first, the words that were about to come out of her mouth. As much as she loved Decklen, and as terrible as she'd felt about all of this, she couldn't bring herself to believe that Decklen was the one any more.
"my relationship...."
She twisted her lips in an unpleasant form, looking down to the ground, folding her arms across her chest, praying he wouldn't take a word she'd just said seriously. Praying he wouldn't believe her. Caprice could only hope that right now would be the moment some one called her out on a bluff.
mother, looking at me
tell me what do you see?
yes, i've lost my mind
daddy, looking at me
will i ever be free?
have i crossed the line?
word count: 2025
outfit: clickety.
credit: haley loser face ` at caution 2.0 for the template, boo for banner.
status: complete.
jams: decode >> paramore
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