Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2014 18:59:34 GMT
WHEN I LEFT THE ROOM
______________________________________________________
FULL NAME: Luna Violet Wilkes
NICKNAMES: Loone
AGE: Twenty-one
BIRTHDAY: 23-05-1992
CURRENT CITY: Chicago, Illinois
HOMETOWN: Chicago, Illinois
EDUCATION: high school graduate
OCCUPATION: waitress
FACEBOOK NAME: n/a
TWITTER HANDLE: n/a
INSTAGRAM: lunaviolet
TUMBLR URL: n/a
HEIGHT: 5'6"
WEIGHT: 115lbs
HAIR COLOR: brown
EYE COLOR: brown
FATHER: Robert Wilkes
MOTHER: Violet Wilkes
SIBLINGS: Dorian Wilkes
EXTENDED: Kaitlin Arnet, daughter
PETS: n/a______________________________________________________
That is what told my parents when I woke them up at 2AM. I couldn't sleep. My mouth ran dry, and my mind haunted me without act of dreaming, the day was heavy on my chest. So I proceeded to kneel at the side of their bed, flick on the glow of the table lamp, and tell them grimly, that I had essentially ruined my life. My dad stirred, my fingers pressed into the meat of his arm, "you what?" My molars chewed the fat of my cheek, and I considered telling him, nevermind, and going back to lie awake in my room. "I'm pregnant," that's what I said instead. I shoved my head into the corner of his pillow, repeating, "I fucked up, I'm pregnant." I don't know what I had expected them to do. Yelling wouldn't be their style, and as much as I would have preferred them to slap the side of my face, they'd never raise a hand to me. When I lifted my head, my father stared at me with bewilderment. He didn't yell, he didn't ask questions, his bright amber eyes bore into me for a solid fifteen seconds, before tearing our eyes and shunning me with his silence.
I never thought I'd be that girl, pregnant at seventeen.. you know, I judged my own carelessness. I laughed at Juno, I thought, god, she's so tragic, but it's her own god damn fault. Maybe it was karma, but it was probably my own negligence. It sounds stupid, I didn't think getting pregnant was hard, but I certainly didn't think it was easy. So when I was drunk at Jeanette Price's party, and Caleb Fisher said, "I forgot a condom", I shouldn't have been so eager. I couldn't have been more irresponsible by saying, "it's okay, it's okay." It only takes once.
I spent most of my seventeenth year alone, watching reruns of Six Feet Under with a spoonful of nutella in my mouth. While other kids my age were applying for college, I was trying to figure out what I'd do with this abomination actively stretching my stomach. I was supposed to be going to an Ivy League next year, my 5.0 GPA would be rotting. My dad froze me out, that night I soaked his pillow with my tears was the day he lost his little girl. Caleb was no Michel Cera, his parents offered no financial help, and so Caleb took no responsibility for his actions.. when I walked around school looking insanely similar to a hippo, he turned the other way. When I uttered, "I'm pregnant", he stared at me, but his focus was different than my fathers. He looked disgusted with me, but he never told me so.. he never spoke to me, he gave no desire. Looking back on it, now four years later, I was a very selfish little girl. My circumstances could have been worse. My parents didn't throw me out, my mom was there for me, the baby had prenatal care, I had a best friend who give a shit and someone to hold my hand.
Giving Kaitlin up was inevitable, but that didn't mean it stung any less. The more I prepared to give her to the Arnet's, the more I wanted to keep her.. I thought of her as this alien until I was four months into my pregnancy, until I felt her kick. I called her, the baby, but sometimes my baby would slip out and my stomach would lurch with sadness. I didn't want her, but I did at the same time.. it was impractical, at only seventeen I was a baby. I couldn't care for a houseplant, let alone another living being. When I saw Grace holding that baby, still spotted with my blood, and I wanted to snatch her and hold her against my sweaty body. When she was no longer mine, my heart broke, and my feet were drowned in concrete.
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I got this in the mail today, it's the fifth one I've gotten and it reads, are you really living?. The notes are always typewritten on lined paper, and folded neatly into a white business envelope. I didn't like it at first, I felt like the Zodiac was writing me. But I've come to appreciate the cryptic messages, it's almost a comfort to know someone cares enough to send them - no matter how creepy. It gives me something to think about, and lately, I haven't been doing enough of that. Every day is the same, it's become Groundhog Day, without Bill Murray (which is essentially the worst movie written). I wake up, I have oatmeal for breakfast - sprinkled with a little brown sugar, I shower, I dress for work, I say goodbye to my mom and dad, then I leave for Denny's, I work my shift, I get my tips, I might go to the gym, I go home and watch Chris Lilley. I'm a seventy-year-old living in a twenty-one-year-old's body, I've even dabbled in the thought of getting a cat. When I think about my life, I'm unhappy, but only when I think.. which I'm doing right now. To answer my secret admirer's question, I'm not really living. Some days I feel like jumping into oncoming traffic.
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Truth - Alexander Ebert - Alexander
Hold On - Alabama Shakes - Boys & Girls
We're All In This Together - Sam Roberts Band - Lo-Fantasy
Trickle Change - Rumspringa - Rumspringa
Ride On, Right On - Phosphorescent - Muchacho
Bootlegger's Boy - Old Crow Medicine Show - Carry Me Back
Country Mile - Johnny Flynn - Country Mile
Devil's Resting Place - Laura Marling - Once I Was An Eagle
Sophia - Bear's Den - Without/Within
The Boxer - Mumford and Sons - Babel
_____________________________________________“People always say that it hurts at night
and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am
is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.
But sometimes
it’s 9am on a tuesday morning
and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up
And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss them so much
you don’t know what to do with your hands.”______________________________________________________
ALIAS: ciara
AGE: 22
PLAY-BY: phoebe tonks
MEMBER GROUP: chicago
INSPIRATION: none
