Post by dominic anthea riley on Dec 27, 2012 22:56:44 GMT -7
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://www.textureaday.com/wp-content/uploads/wpsc/product_images/wood-0004-600.jpg); width: 437px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30;] DOMINIC ANTHEA RILEY [/style][style=width: 390px; background-color: 9da8b8; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; text-align; center; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; color: fefdfc; text-transform: uppercase; text-align:center; letter-spacing: 0; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 11px; padding-right: 10px;]HEATHER | TWENTY | CANADA EH | EIGHT YEARS DOM, NIKKY | TWENTY TWO | WORKER AT STEEL CITY VINTAGE | HETEROSEXUAL [style=width: 190px; font-size: 9px; padding-right: 0; padding-left:0; color: fefdfc; line-height: 10px; line-space: 1px; background-color: 9da8b8; text-align: justify; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0PX; float: left;]TEN. things in your bag NINE. words to describe you lipstick (bourjois), empty pill bottle (prescription, label faded off), blush (smashbox), a faded photograph (school photograph of a young boy), a watch(too large to be worn, silver), a small journal(brown, barely used), perfume(mademoiselle by chanel), gum(Cinnamon), various makeup supplies(eye shadows, foundation etc), wallet(lois vuitton) immaculate proper prim intelligent nervous classic narcissistic social butterfly broken EIGHT. habits and quirks
SEVEN. basic facts SIX. memories born and raised in royal, never planned on going to school, lived in new york for a few years until she became bankrupt, returned about a year ago, has one younger sister, lives alone in a small apartment, plans on starting up her own fashion magazine one day age eight - A young girl with light strawberry blond hair is running towards an older boy, his hair equally fair. She's crying, holding an elbow that's bleeding badly. The boy had been teaching her to ride a bike, now laying scattered a ways from the two of them. The boy scoops down to greet the girl, patting her hair, looking at her elbow, uttering comforting words. The girls stopped sobbing, but tears still washed down her pale cheeks. The wound is bleeding badly, scraped up by the rocks on the ground. "Hush, hush Dom, it'll be okay. I think you need stitch's." The girl whimpers softly, looking up at the boy. He smiles bravely at her. "It won't hurt a bit, not a bit. I promise." Dom's still frowning at her brother, eyes unsure. The pain now is so much, she doesn't want more. "Dom, smile honey. Smile and the whole world will smile back at you," the older boy says, smiling at her. She does her best to smile back, tears ceasing as he scoops her up to take her to the doctors in town. age fourteen - They weren't straight, they weren't straight. Distressed, Dom huffed, a sharp metal clatter falling against the bathroom sink. She would have to start again now, they had to be straight. There was no hope for this side, the lines red and crooked. Her hand had shook to much. Dominic examined the flesh of her other hip, clear flesh, white like the snow. She'd not started tanning, just a light summer freckle for her otherwise ghostly pale skin. She had to be perfect, not pale. One dash, quick and easy, cleared a straight red line across her hip bone. So far so good. Dominic had screwed up her eyes, watching her fingers, spacing out the razor. It would have to be perfect, it would have to be. Age eighteen – Doms long finger nails combed through her hair, tugging a few strands loose. She would have to stop that habit, it wasn't good. Nor was it civilized, tearing at her hair simply because of a little stress. Soon she would lose all of her hair. She was always fearing of wrinkles, at age eighteen. Her mother would often wake her up with a worried smooth hand across her brow, saying if she frowned so much, lines would eventually appear. Parents may have been wrong that when you made a silly face, it would stay that way. But make a face long enough, and the face fell into creases. Dominic returned her hands to her lap, trying not to fidget. This was the most important day of her life, of her young career. Every moment of the past few years, and months, boiled down to this moment. If she didn't get this internship, get out of Royal, get away from her family, Dom didn't know what she would do. New York could be a new start, a fresh face. No boil nosed therapist to fend of with smiles and reports of clean health, no family to walk on broken glass with. It would be so simple. If she managed to get into this fashion magazine, her entire life would be fixed. All of it. age thirteen – Theo hated roses. Dominic was sure her brother had never had any special affinity with any flower, but especially roses. The smell, the thorns, the look. Why roses, why always roses. They didn't know anything about Theo. Her Theo, her brother. The casket sat, blank, black, contrasting the green grass. Dominic could barely hear the ministers words over the wind, but she didn't need them. She would remember Theo how she wanted to remember him. His light blond hair, the way he'd looked when she last saw him, the words she'd always shared with him. Theo was the only one who knew everything about Dominic, past her pretty face, the dresses she wore, the glee in her step. She was only thirteen, twelve, but sometimes things seemed so bad, so sad. Theo would set things right. When he'd left, he'd told her that she had to keep things straight for him. Always a straight line Dom. If you can make things in a straight line, everythings going to be okay. Now he was gone, who would set things straight? Dominic was too young, to clumsy, to make things right. She closed her eyes as the men at the head of the funeral folded a flag, presenting it to her mother. Her brothers friends, his army friends, saluted as the coffin was lowered into the ground. age twenty one - Bags sat packed at the entrance of the small apartment, paint peeling of the door. The home was striped bare, back to the charming brick that had drawn Dominic in. That brick showed to be a pain, always cold after a long night, and impossible to decorate. Dominic needed something more modern, not something made for the open hearts of many of New York's inhabitants. Perhaps that was why she didn't belong here. The city, and its people, were messy, unorganized, brash and rude. It clashed with her small town up bringing. She tried to be a lady, but it was hard to cross the mud in high heel shoes. Royal was much better kept. She couldn't believe she was going back there, to that wretched town. At the same time, it seemed to always be end game. That town called her name. Royal never gave up easily on anyone. Dom stood in her bathroom, eyes looking in the mirror. She followed the line of her face with a soft hand. Such perfection, how could she be sad if she was this perfect? Dom sighed, eyes flashing down to her hips, where new scars sat spattered over new. She was getting better, each was a perfect straight line, one centimeter between each, scoring down her hips. Fresh blood prickled at the surface of closing scars, trickling lightly down her hip bones. She needed to loose a little weight. Her natural curvy figure was a beauty to find, but a bitch to keep. No matter. Royal did good things for her form, though not her hair. age nineteen - “You can't expect me to just stay here! Not with the way things have become! I'm not stupid! I know whats going on, I notice how no one talks! No one has said anything since Theo's death. Yeah, mom, he's dead and you and I both have got to cope with that! Annabell is suffering and you're too caught up in your grief to notice!” Dom's shouting, bags in hand, standing a few inches shorter than an older woman, who just sits in a stool, staring at a cup of coffee. There is a man as well, as red faced at her, standing open mouthed, staring at his errant daughter. “I'm going to go,” Doms words are softer now, regaining her lady like poise. 'I'm going to go now, mom. Dad. I don't expect to hear from you, but perhaps one day we can talk. Talk about Theo, me, real things, I'm tired of pretending.” without protest from either parent, Dominic sweeps out the door. She tries not to cry,she ignores the tears pricking at the edge of her vision. This was for the best. Smile, honey. Smile and the whole world will smile right back at you. FIVE. scars left elbow – scar tissues from stitches dom received at eight after falling of her bike pinky, ring finger, across palm – deep scaring from falling through a glass table, can't feel her pinky very well abdomen – scar from having appendix removed calf – long scar from a camping trip and tripping over a tree branch hips – self harm scars from ages 14-16, 19-present FOUR. pet peeves When people say 'so and so says hello'. I understand the sentiment but I don't want your sentiment and neither do I care if someone says hello to me. Its a silly sentimentality and I know they really are only pretending to care Using time as an excuse. One should have their priorities straight in order to make time for the things that matter. Several times I've seen people say they have no time and then go waste time doing useless things People who tell me that I'm doing my work wrong or not right. I know what I'm doing, if I needed help I would ask for it. People doing things in public that should be done in private, such as clipping or filing nails, clipping toe nails, kissing for more than one minute, having loud conversations or arguments, swearing. THREE. voicemails TWO. vices and virtues Voicemail from 10:32 AM, December 20th, 2012 Dom, it's Annabell. Mom and Dad finally got wind that your back. I couldn't keep it from them forever, word spreads quick in this town. You're lucky you lasted as long as you did. They want to talk to you. You know our parents Dom. Don't think it only affected you, they just have trouble coping. Come home, to your family, please. I miss you. Voicemail from 12:45 PM, December 27 2012 Hello Dominic, this is Dr.Rose's office. We've tried to contact you a few times. Though we understand you are an adult, it's our suggestion you come in for a visit. We understand you've stopped taking your pills. If you wish to book an appointment, you know how to reach us. Happy Holidays and we hope to see you in the new year.. Audio file saved on January 3rd, 2011 Voice mail received June 8th, 2001 vice - materialistic - No matter the cost, if Dominic likes something, she will buy it. This has gotten her into trouble more than once, and she finds she needs a hearty income to help with his addiction to shopping. Since her bankruptcy, she's had to watch her money more, something Dom's never been good at. virtue - passionate - This might be considered bad, but if anything, Dom's passionate. Sometimes, because of her depression, she'll go through patches of loosing this drive, but she tries her hardest to stick to it. Once Dom has something on her mind, she will see it through, no matter what. Her friends often joke about her similarity to a bulldog, the animal known for grabbing the jugular of an animal and not letting go until it's dead, no matter what. Dom can be trusted to get a job done, as long as she's taking her pills. ONE. regret you'll never forget It's not that I blame myself for his death. I don't. No one could blame themselves for something that happened across the world. I'm, as my doctor says, clinically depressed. It has nothing to do with Theo. It just provided the tipping point, the catalyst. I never wanted to die, I saw what that would do to a family. It ripped mine to shreds. I just wanted to feel something, feel alive for Theo, I guess. I promised him, I promised him I'd never do anything to myself. I regret not keeping that promise [/style] HANGING ON THE EDGE OF HEAVEN |
