Post by AMERICA RYLEIGH WILLIAMS. on Jan 24, 2010 14:21:27 GMT -5
AMERICA RYLEIGH WILLIAMS.
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* FEELS JUST LIKE WE'RE LOSING CONTROL.
and if you let go, then i'll let go tonight.[/center]
TELL US ABOUT YOURSELF.
"call me amy, or rikki, or leigh. but never call me america. or even worse, never call me america ryleigh. or i swear i will punch the crap out of you. and i fucking mean it. i will just let you imagine what is going to happen if you ever call me america ryleigh williams. only my parents were aloud to call me like that. notice the fact that i’m talking in the past right now. but that’s not the point here. so let’s move on. people generally call me amy. or rikki. or leigh. depends on what they prefer at the moment. i’m eighteen years old. i don’t really see what is so special about being eighteen. okay, i’d be considered as an adult in canada. woohoo. still not here. so it’s nothing special. just one more fucking boring year, really. i’m a girl, obviously. or maybe you have already seen a boy called america with rather long hair and breasts so you didn’t think it was obvious. moron. or you’re fucking blind. it wouldn’t surprise me, you know. i’ve heard one of the girls in level one actually is. i mean like.. ew. whatever. i’m straight. meaning that i don’t generally fuck girls. scratch the generally. i just don’t, okay? i think that couldn’t really be any clearer. i was born some time end of february. i don’t really give a fuck exactly when. it’s not like we actually celebrate our birthday here. so what’s the point in actually knowing when it is?"
TELL US ABOUT YOUR MEDICAL HISTORY.
[/size][/font]"i apparently have some kind of bipolarity disorder. even though it is not called like that. doctors call it borderline personality disorder. i tried to commit suicide three times before by either taking pills or attempting to stab myself. i am not allowed to use any sharp things since then. i have been here for five years now. my parents couldn’t handle my changing emotions. and by changing i don’t just mean a little adolescence crisis here and there. i could go from being the happiest girl in the world, to throwing things at my mother’s head and then being calm, all in ten minutes. so they sent me here. and i’m not really mad at them for it. i had some time before when i was anorexic. i still don’t like my body. but, at least, i eat. and i hate myself sometimes. i just feel like beating myself up most of the time because i feel so stupid.. and.. useless, to be honest. sometimes, i feel like a piece of me is missing and i have to look for it. i feel so empty. as if everything had been taken away from me. i refuse to admit that i need somebody to be there, next to me. i hate the fact that i could be depend on anybody. i have had relationships before i was thrown in here. but it was never serious ones. the boys i went out with were either alcoholics, or.. yeah, drug addicts. and they never stuck around for a long time. so that didn’t give me the chance to actually depend on them, you know? i’ve always been seen as the independent, lonely girl and i don’t want to let that reputation be compromised. i don’t really think before doing something. is it really necessary, to be honest? i mean, okay, it can be necessary for certain things. but i like to think that things are simpler than they actually look. so i don’t think before acting."
HOW CAN WE ACCOMODATE YOU BETTER?
[/size][/font]"can i have my own room, please? i know it must be really hard to give people what they want. but that’s the only thing i can think of that would be rather easy for you to give me. i mean.. i know many people around here must want to have their own room to have a bit of time to themselves, to relax, you know? it’s always fun to be by yourself, to not have to fill the silence. to be completely honest with you, i suck at it. i hate having to talk to somebody when i have nothing particular to say. it just comes out in a random ball of bullshit and i always end up being stared at. which sucks, by the way. though, when i’m alone, it gives me time to think. and.. i hate thinking about.. what i do, or my past. or anything, really. i just hate it. so whenever i’m alone, i try to get something to read or to write something. so, if it’s not asking you too much, i would really love to only have that. well.. um.. there would maybe be something else that you could do to make me happy and make me kind of a good time around here. as i told you before, i always have to keep myself busy or to focus on something to not have to think about.. things. so i’d appreciate it if you provided me some books here and there, and maybe some paper to write? seeing as those are the main things that generally keep me away from thinking. so yeah. that would be the second thing. i don’t think there’s really a third thing.. but.. i’ll let you know if i find something else? thanks."
TELL US ABOUT YOUR PAST.
[/size][/font]"i don’t really remember the name of my hometown. it’s been years since i’ve been there. so whatever. all i know is that i was born in ohio. or, as i like to call it, lame-io. i don’t really remember anything about it so i can’t describe it to you. all i remember is that i lived in a small house with my parents and my two brothers. my mother was stupid. she probably was the worst mother of all time. all that mattered to her was her house, her husband, and her job. her children were just something that came along with all of it. she always told us – especially me – how she had never wanted us, how it was our father that had ‘forced’ her to have children. she called us – again, especially me – errors. but, at least, my brother’s were good at something. i was just a stupid girl who would end up sleeping with men for money. i think she was mistaken me for her. hadn’t she been the one doing that in her younger age? whatever. my mother’s name was lillian marie harrison. last time i saw her, she was a waitress in some small ‘restaurant’ and was forty years old. that was three years ago. before they sent me away. i had a better relationship with my father. i actually felt pity for him because my mother would do whatever the fuck she wanted with him. he was too nice for his own good. even with us. but of course, i never complained. i loved the fact that i could manipulate him and make him say yes to anything i asked him. of course, i felt bad like crazy afterwards so i would make it up to him. he was the only one to actually support me through what we could call my crisis.. and he never let me down. the only time he did was when my mother decided that it was best for everybody that i went away. even though i could have manipulated him, my mother was a master at that art and she wouldn’t have let me do anything. my father’s name was isaac michael williams and last time i saw him, he was the owner of my most favorite restaurant in the world. but of course, that was only because he was the owner. he was forty-three.
my two brothers were real goofballs, clowns, mainly every synonym of those. yeah. they were the funniest guys in the whole wide world. they made my life brighter, generally. even though we fought sometimes, like every brother and sister do, right? anyway. i had a rather good relationship with them too since we were in the ‘same boat’. we all hated our mother and we did everything to make her scream her ass off. then we would laugh about it in our room. yeah, because me and my brothers had to share one room to let my mother have her studio where she supposedly drew and painted. but we all knew what she was doing in there as soon as she got a computer in there. it was obvious, even to my father who was just so naive. i really hope they divorced after i left. but whatever. my oldest brother’s name was aaron gavin williams. when i was sent away, he was the only one to react. he was twenty-one years old and had been living in his own apartment for a while now. he suggested to take me with him so i could live in his apartment. but my mother obviously refused. last thing i know of him is that, since then, he refused to talk to both of my parents. i don’t know if he ever got a job. he was at university the year i was sent away. then, there was my other brother. he was the only one of us three that was really scared of my mother. i guess we could say that he had inherited of my father’s personality. though, he was the one with the brains who came up with the most original plans to annoy the crap out of my mother, which was always fun. i was less close to him than to aaron. but still, i loved him and i know he loved me back. it didn’t surprise me that he didn’t do anything after my mother’s decision. i knew he would do the exact same thing as my father. it was just obvious, really. so i wasn’t as mad at him as i was to my mother or my father. his name was jameson carter williams and he was seventeen years old when i was sent away.
i keep talking in the past about them because they’re dead to me, now. i know we’re probably not aloud to have any contact with the rest of the world, but even my brothers, mostly aaron, if he had really about me that much, he would have found a way to contact me.. or would have asked jameson for one. it doesn’t surprise me much that my mother didn’t try to contact me. but i thought i would have been more important than that to my father and my brothers. whatever."
IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE?
[/size][/font]"i don’t have anything more to say. in fact, i don’t want to tell you anything else. so i’ll just leave now. thanks."
THE MASTERMIND BEHIND IT ALL.
[/size][/font]hey, my name is ANNIE.[/color] i have FIFTEEN[/color] tracks spinning on my record. this is my THIRD[/color] character. i have been roleplaying for THREE YEARS[/color]. the password is SILICONE AND SALINE, POISON INJECT ME.[/color].[/font][/size]
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NO I REFUSE D<
