Post by kennedy a. wood on Sept 13, 2012 22:15:14 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 250px; overflow:auto; border-left: 10px solid #657f86; background: #FCFEF5; opacity: 0.8; border-top-right-radius:60px; border-bottom-left-radius:60px;] kennedy alexandra wood  nineteen || level three || drug addiction || kerti pahk || female birth Screaming could be heard from down the hall, a man in the waiting room looking alarmed bolted upright, running down to the room it emitted from. He stopped short of entering, remembering what his wife had said to him. No, he had to wait, no matter how badly he wanted to go in and soothe her, let her know that it would be alright and that it would be over soon. His eyes were weary, as if he’d been up for far too long. Checking his watch every once in a while, he continued to pace outside the room his wife was in, wincing every time he heard her moan or grunt. How much longer would it be? Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a nurse came out of the room, a surprised look coming over her, surprising him just as much, and as suddenly as it appeared her face softened into a smile as she opened the door wide for him to enter. He did so hurriedly, a smile gracing his tired face. He bent down, kissing the woman in the bed’s forehead, his eyes searching for something, anything. Slipping his hand into the woman that was his wives, the smile began to warp into a look of fear. It wasn’t long before his entire face brightened up again, looking down at the little pink bundle that was brought over from the other side of the room. “It’s a girl.” A simple statement from the doctor, but it was all he needed to say. The man held his arms out, taking the pink bundle carefully, settling down on the bed with his wife. He looked over at her, seeing her weary smile. “A girl,” the husband repeated, “We have a little girl.” age four “But, papa, I don’t want a husband!” The little girl fussed in the back seat of the car, her blonde ringlets shaking with her head. Looking up at her dad, her nose wrinkled, eyes squinting as his gentle laugh filled the car. He continued on about how it was family tradition and other things she had heard a thousand times before, but her response was always the same. Sulking down in her seat, her little arms folded over her chest and she looked down at her feet, grumbling “I still don’t want one.” But that was the day she was going to go meet him, whether she liked it or not. When the car stopped, she craned her neck out the window to get a look at the house the boy that was to be her future husband lived in, and her eyes widened in awe. It wasn’t often she saw houses the same size as her daddy and mommy’s house, and this one had to be almost bigger. Or at least longer. Her eyes scanned the whole lot, her little hands scrambling to open the door and hop out. She wanted to see the boy who’s parents had such a mansion, wanted to size him up and figure out if he was as good as her parents made him out to be. And there he was, on the front step. He was cute, at least in her four year old mind. Her cheeks flushed a gentle pink as they shook hands, her bright blue eyes looking down as he guided her to the backyard. Her eyes moved back up and looked around at all the stuff he wanted to show her, knowing she had all of the same things, or a few things different, nodding as he carried on. <i>Five year olds sure are show-offs</i>, she thought, getting bored at the sport things. She’d rather have been at home playing with her dollies and dinky cars. When he turned to her, boasting his name as if it were the most important thing she was ever going to know. “I’m Kennedy. And one day I’m going to marry you.” age nine “Sweetie, just stay in your room. Daddy has some work to do.” Those words were the most stern she had ever heard. Nodding, she ran up the stairs, opening and closing her door, but never going inside. No, she wanted to watch her father at work, watch him with his employees. Sneaking back down the steps without a sound, she peaked through the door, watching as it all went down in front of her, her eyes wide. “Do you think you can steal from me, Jack?” Her father’s voice was low, gruff, a tone she’d never heard before and it puzzled her. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice!” His voice raised gently, causing the little girl to jump, her hand covering her mouth to make not even the slightest sound. The man opposite her father pleaded, as if he were afraid. Of what, though? There was nothing to be afraid of, especially not now. Her father was too gentle, too nice. But then she saw it, on the table resting in her fathers hand. Her eyes furrowed and she tilted her head. The argueing went on for what seemed like forever until her father slammed on the table, raising the gun. <b>BANG!</b> Kennedy gasped and rushed up the stairs, trying her hardest to make no noise. age fourteen Kennedy knew that she wasn’t the only girl in her future husband’s life. He was dating other girls, even sleeping with them at the young age they were at. She knew it, but still, she knew she wasn’t allowed to date boys, her parents wouldn’t allow it. She had to stay completely pure for him. They didn’t know that the two had shared a few kisses, they barely knew anything about their daughter. She went on, day to day, knowing they had no clue of the odd date that this boy took Kennedy on, much like the one they were on now. Her blonde hair was in soft ringlets, pulled over to one side exposing her long neck. Her lips were painted a soft pink, a bit of liner covering her top eyelid, leading to her long, black lashes. Her white teeth exposed themselves frequently as she laughed at her future husbands jokes, even though she found them dreadfully dull. It was something she learned to do over the years, knowing she would be doing it for the rest of her life. When the food came, she looked at his steak longingly before down at her salad with dismay. It wasn’t nearly enough to fill her up, but knew he would say something if she had anything more. Going through supper, she mostly poked it around, not even touching the garlic bread that was off to the side. It was too many calories, and she knew he would count them and tell her she would gain weight, be fatter than she already was. When dinner was finished, she bypassed the idea of dessert, no matter how much her stomach urged her to get some. Not now, maybe when she got home she would dive into her stash of junk food. age seventeen She lay on the floor, curled into a tight little ball, clutching her torn clothing to her thin and knobby body. Sobbing, she jumped at every sound from outside the door. She waited until she felt as if he had left, picking herself up, feeling the bruises that were sure to show within the next few hours. Her tiny feet carried her over to her closet, pulling out a much oversized sweater, matching sweatpants following suit. Pulling these clothes onto her, she quickly tossed herself under her comforter, eyes big and blue moving rapidly around her room. Things were broken, her outfit was ripped on the floor. Words were still ringing through her ears, over and over again. It couldn’t have happened, it didn’t happen. No. But everything was so… crazy. Again and again she heard the words, bouncing off the inside of her skull, again and again. “You will have sex with me,” the look in his eyes scared her witless, she couldn’t move anymore, too afraid to move anymore. “You’re going to be my wife, and you will have sex with me” age nineteen Staring in the mirror, she tilted her head. This wasn’t supposed to look like this, but… she liked it. Kennedy brushed her fingers through her hair, hot pink all over, wild and crazy looking. A smile crept onto her soft lips, her eyes almost purple lighting up. It was temporary, but it was still new, different, and she liked it. Her parents, however, didn’t enjoy it. They were angry about it. They already were angry at their only daughter for calling off the arranged marriage without a reason—a reason she refused to give, anyways. Their old-fashioned German ways didn’t approve of her hair any more than they enjoyed the loss of a son and joining a family as wealthy and corrupt at themselves. -------------------- Her parents barely noticed when their daughter had started doing drugs, didn’t notice when it became a deathly addiction. Heroin had become Kennedy’s life in such a short amount of time, finding herself needing it just to function properly in public, to even interact in a group of people that had men in it. She refused to go anywhere without at least some on her, incase her androphobia acted up, incase she ever saw him, knowing it was going to happen again to some poor girl. It wasn’t until one of the maids stumbled on Kenny’s little body crumpled in a corner of her bedroom, shaking violently that her parents realized just how bad they had allowed their daughter to get. That was the greatest disappointment her parents had ever felt, and she saw it in their eyes when she came to, wearing the ugly and itchy hospital gown. Her hands shook the slightest, her body craving more of what she had nearly died from, squinting defiantly at everyone that walked past her. She needed it, she wanted it. But the sweetness never came. Instead of being released, she was transferred to some other hospital, one where she could wear her own clothes, but be kept under lock and key. Red || Nineteen || Eight years || Of course! |