Post by * JESSICA ANNE REXING. on Jan 2, 2010 17:08:04 GMT -5
JESSICA ANNE REXING.
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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.
I'm Jessica Anne Rexing, but you can call me Jess, Jesse, or maybe even Rex. I was born on January 9th, eighteen years ago. My mom’s name is Nancy, and my dad’s name is Eldrick. They’re 39. I have a little sister who’s seven years old, her name’s Maggie. It’s short for Margaret. So, in simple, I’m one of two girls. I was born when my parents were eighteen. They got married a few weeks after they found out my mom was pregnant. See, they didn’t want me to grow up without being part of a family. Anyway, I think it’s pretty obvious to tell, but I'm a female and I'm straight. I think the correct word is heterosexual. Either way I like guys. I liked a lot of guys in the school I went to, and a lot of them liked me. I was the rebel chick who was shockingly nice for someone who didn’t give a damn. Now I’m not quite like that. Now I care too much for my own good. I’m a lot different than what I used to be, but I’m also the same as the girl in school. I went to public school until I was in tenth grade and then switched to home schooling. I... I don't really like to talk about why. Before I get into anything else, I should probably tell you not to confuse me with Sierra Kusterbeck. I was told I look like her, but I don't really like to believe it. I'd rather be me… only different.”
TELL US ABOUT YOUR MEDICAL HISTORY.
[/size][/font]"I don’t like it here. The only place I feel safe is at home with my mom, dad, and sister. Here everyone’s trying to hurt me. I guess you can say I’m paranoid, but I guess you can say that a baby bird would eat a hawk, too. It’s not that I’m being paranoid, it’s just simply that I don’t trust people quickly, if I ever learn to trust them – which I won’t, and for good reason. Everyone here is intent on hurting me. The other day I saw someone slip me something in my drink. They call it medication. Please, I know what my medication looks like. They always give me pills to drink, never anything in my drinks. Then they tried to get me to drink it. I didn’t. If I had the chance I’d shove it down their throat just to watch them suffer whatever it was they were trying to make me go through.
They say I act out in a violent manner. They constantly tell me to take the high road, and let it all help me because it’s for the good of me and everyone else. It’s not though. The point of me being ‘violent’ isn’t because I want to be violent and cause bodily harm to anyone. It’s to the people that hurt me, the people that plan things to do to me behind closed doors. They try to get me to do things for them. ‘Eat this, it’s good for you,’ they’ll say after I just watched them sprinkle something on it. Hell, no. I’m not a fool. I’ll eat what I want, when I want and you can’t make me. So in simple, I don’t really eat that much. I do eat, don’t get me wrong, I love food. I just don’t trust these people enough to eat what they give me which can result in me going quite some time without eating anything. They say I need to eat. They say a lot of things and I don’t commonly listen.
I don’t have problems, don’t you see? You’re asking me to sit here and tell you all of my issues that landed me in this god forsaken place. You’re trying to tell me to tell you all of my little quirks because of what these people are doing to me. You say it’s because of what I’m doing to them? I’m not hurting them because I want to. Like I said, it’s because they do me, so I’m just protecting myself. I have these routines, you see – to protect myself. I watch everything you do closely, analyze your words for tricks, and if I need to, I’ll hurt you. Do I feel guilty afterwards? It depends on what I’ve done. I don’t carry around a guilty conscious, because if I did, that’d give you the perfect opportunity to get me – when I’m at my weakest. Don’t you see? I’ll say my prayers before bed, and I’m not really that religious, and then I’ll watch you closely, that’s what I do. If you try to watch me and get to me, I’ll know so it’s pointless to try to get everything out of me. I know what you’re playing at, don’t think you’ll get away with it."
HOW CAN WE ACCOMODATE YOU BETTER?
[/size][/font]"You want me to tell you everything about me? No. I won’t. You can just use that against me, so I’ll be vague. I’m good at that. Uhm, well, I really like music. I love my i-pod, and can’t go anywhere without it unless you force me to, which would be pretty damn hard. I also love reading, which is strange because I never did well in school – particularly English. I mean, I’m smart, but I didn’t take a liking to reading or writing. Suddenly being here makes me think that the only place I can be safe is in a book (especially hard cover, they make for better protection than soft). I also really like the outdoors, and all seasons. I’m a sporty kind of girl, and I’ll do pretty much any sport after I’ve thought about it and if I find it within reason. I also like just going for walks, looking out the window, the simple things. When you get me with my friends (once I find somebody to trust – which is beyond rare), I’ll be loud and have loads of fun and be so bright. I used to be like that. I used to be really happy, and laugh a lot, but being here I find that nobody’s willing to do so. Nobody wants me to like it here. I guess that’s a good thing, because once they hurt me enough to end me, then I won’t be missing much.
Have you gotten the gist that I don’t like it here? If not, I don’t like it here. I hate it with a burning passion of a million suns. This here is a hellhole with doctors who take pride in watching people squirm. I’m sure that if they were given the chance they’d lock us out in the winter to watch us slowly freeze to death. Meaning, that next time there’s a snowstorm, I might just do that to them. Only, I wouldn’t want. I don’t know why I’m even telling you this though because I don’t like to, and you’ll find a way to ruin my plans and ruin me. So, I don’t like people, if you haven’t caught that yet. I don’t like it when people hover over me, or give me so much attention like I’m some lab rat experiment. That’s what I am though, while I’m here anyway. Which is why I’ll get out one way or another. I don’t hate everything though, if that’s what you’re getting at. You just have to find what I like, and find what I hate. Things will come up. I hate things as I go through like, and like things as I do. I can’t pinpoint anything. I’m rather indecisive about a lot of stuff. Once I set my mind though, I’m stubborn as hell. Relentless, some may say.
I just like giving people what they deserve before they do things to me. I ramble, but when you talk to me one on one, I’ll give you minimal information. Cold words are what I speak usually. There’s not much to me unless you pick me apart after you’ve earned my trust. Which you haven’t. You know, I’m surprised I haven’t gotten you to stop asking questions yet. There must be something I might like about you… Consider yourself lucky you haven’t brought out my anger yet. I have quite the temper. Besides, if you keep asking questions, you’re going to go nowhere in life. You get what you get and you don’t get upset. My younger sister tells me that quite often, so you better be damn well pleased with what I’ve given you to work with. And I swear to God, if you use it against me, you will not be very pleased anymore."
TELL US ABOUT YOUR PAST.
[/size][/font]"I was born into a loving home… kind of. See, my parents were eighteen when they had me. Just married in a tiny one bedroom apartment. From the pictures I’d seen, it was a crap house. Nice I guess, I mean they did their best at the age of eighteen, but still. I’m sure it was good for them, but to raise a child in it? There was no space, and I don’t like small spaces. Eventually, my dad got a steady job which is to be expected from any man of a household, and we moved into a small house. This time, it was actually a home. I was four at the time, and already I knew that it was bigger and better. I knew this because, well, I was a child who liked to run around, so I ran through my house and found out that there were four more doors that I could open and close. That was better than only two from before. For a while my mom was a stay at home mom, but she eventually had to get a job, so she became a teacher. Somehow, my dad managed to switch professions from being a construction worker, to a cop. Don’t ask me how, it just worked out and he ‘always wanted to be a cop’.
I was eleven when I found out I was going to have a baby sister. I love her so much. Maggie – she’s adorable. I’ve always been good with kids. They seem to be the only real ones I can trust. They always seem so innocent to me. Now, normally I would say it’s all a show and that they’re planning to take over the world, but kids keep me calm somehow. I can listen to them, but not to the adults. I used to be able to though. I was the nicest girl on the block. I constantly babysat for people and I loved it. I always said I’d be a kindergarten teacher, or work with kids with special needs, because with kids I’m patient. Turns out I’m the one who needs special attention to make sure I don’t act out and hurt someone who ‘didn’t deserve it’. Oh, please, if you think about it, everyone deserves something to happen to them – whether it is good or bad. Karma is Karma, and Karma’s a bitch. Don’t be telling me I’m doing something bad. I’m just her messenger.
Remember, I wasn’t always like this – the little girl who’d be cautious of everything and ‘evil’. I really was a sweetheart. Until the summer I was going into eleventh grade – that’s when I started homeschooling. I had a lot of boys after me. I was rebellious always, for one reason or another, but I was the nice rebel that seemed to intrigue everyone. I had a boyfriend who was going to college, and he wanted to have an end of summer party, so he invited me. He was sweet… usually, or I thought anyway. Then he brought booze and I drank, but I drank responsibly. Only a cup or two of beer, if that. I never really liked alcohol, but I mean, it wasn’t terribly terrible. So, in that case, I put down the cups after my limit of two, and went and had a good time. I’d always put off sex with my boyfriend because I felt like it was bigger than what he was making it out to be. Too much pressure, and too much alcohol on his lips. He raped me, and I’ve been jumpy since then. He started to follow me afterwards, trying to get me to accept his apology, which I didn’t. He would show up to my door, and at one point he got a little too protective – even after we called it quits. He started sending me messages. I should’ve known he was a creep, and since then. Well, it’s self explanatory really. There’s been more than one person doing this to me in the past, which resulted in what people claim to be a ‘problem.’ It wouldn’t be a problem though if people just stayed the fuck away and left me alone!"
IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE?
[/size][/font]"Don't touch me."
THE MASTERMIND BEHIND IT ALL.
[/size][/font]hey, my name is ALICE.[/color] i have MY FAVOURITE[/color] tracks spinning on my record. this is my FIRST[/color] character. i have been roleplaying for ROUGHLY THREE YEARS[/color]. the password is POISON, INJECT ME. SILICONE AND SALINE[/color].[/font][/size]
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]
"TELL me about it," Alys agreed, "By all means, they can go ahead and do what they please, but it just doesn't make sense to me - how they can find pleasure in something like that." She gave a small shrug. Alyson really couldn't say much because she didn't smoke, so she didn't understand what the smokers were feeling. If she did, then maybe she'd think differently about the subject, but she didn't so she didn't. It was quite simple in Alys's mind - you either do and die, or you don't and don't die. Either way there was death at the end of both tunnels, but one might come a little faster. It wasn't up to her to preach this however, because she believed that people should be able to do what they want without restrictions.
BRANDON Jarett Stryker; That was quite an introduction he had going on. Alyson rarely introduced herself with her full name. Normally it was just Alyson, or Alys, maybe with her last name. However, she figured it would be better to level up to his standard. "Alyson Mariah Catalana," she introduced herself with a smile. Alyson was a little bit of a formal introduction kind of girl, so she stuck her hand out for him to shake it or not. "But you can call me Alys. Singer for Summer In A Day." Summer In A Day. She loved her band and wondered if Brandon felt the same about his band. She'd like to know more about him, as she was sure he wanted the same. Alyson hadn't had much of a chance to interact with any of the other bands before now.
AT that moment her pocket vibrated. She had deposited her phone there, and so she said, "Excuse me a minute." She drew out her phone and found it was her boyfriend calling. "Hey, babe," she smiled, however that smile quickly fell. "Don't worry about me, Next time though, try a little better timing. I have a show in a little bit. Yeah, okay. Bye." That was a pitiful excuse for a breakup. What kind of guy broke up with a girl over the phone right before a show? Apparently Alyson's new ex did. It made sense though because she was miles away - not that she wanted to let herself accept that. She just wanted to blame everything on him, even though it wasn't really right. That phone conversation with pauses for him to speak and all, only took a grand total of fourty three point two seconds. That was pretty pathetic. He just jumped right into it and gave her reasons that seemed like rather pathetic excuses to get single, hook up with other girls that were willing to and were probably right beside him rather than wait.
LOOKING back up to Brandon she apologized, "Sorry, my ass of a boyfri- ass of a person, decided phone was the best way to ruin my day before a show." With this she sighed and rolled her eyes at the boy back home in California. She didn't have to worry about that now. She'd just put a little more feeling into her performance and worry about her problems later. That was how she functioned. She'd feel hurt and a million other emotions later when she used the night to search for answers at the bottom of an empty bottle. For now, she'd continue talking with Brandon, and getting herself ready for her performance.
BRANDON Jarett Stryker; That was quite an introduction he had going on. Alyson rarely introduced herself with her full name. Normally it was just Alyson, or Alys, maybe with her last name. However, she figured it would be better to level up to his standard. "Alyson Mariah Catalana," she introduced herself with a smile. Alyson was a little bit of a formal introduction kind of girl, so she stuck her hand out for him to shake it or not. "But you can call me Alys. Singer for Summer In A Day." Summer In A Day. She loved her band and wondered if Brandon felt the same about his band. She'd like to know more about him, as she was sure he wanted the same. Alyson hadn't had much of a chance to interact with any of the other bands before now.
AT that moment her pocket vibrated. She had deposited her phone there, and so she said, "Excuse me a minute." She drew out her phone and found it was her boyfriend calling. "Hey, babe," she smiled, however that smile quickly fell. "Don't worry about me, Next time though, try a little better timing. I have a show in a little bit. Yeah, okay. Bye." That was a pitiful excuse for a breakup. What kind of guy broke up with a girl over the phone right before a show? Apparently Alyson's new ex did. It made sense though because she was miles away - not that she wanted to let herself accept that. She just wanted to blame everything on him, even though it wasn't really right. That phone conversation with pauses for him to speak and all, only took a grand total of fourty three point two seconds. That was pretty pathetic. He just jumped right into it and gave her reasons that seemed like rather pathetic excuses to get single, hook up with other girls that were willing to and were probably right beside him rather than wait.
LOOKING back up to Brandon she apologized, "Sorry, my ass of a boyfri- ass of a person, decided phone was the best way to ruin my day before a show." With this she sighed and rolled her eyes at the boy back home in California. She didn't have to worry about that now. She'd just put a little more feeling into her performance and worry about her problems later. That was how she functioned. She'd feel hurt and a million other emotions later when she used the night to search for answers at the bottom of an empty bottle. For now, she'd continue talking with Brandon, and getting herself ready for her performance.
