I wish I could say that I lived someplace special. Like Iceland or Maine. Everything seems to happen in Maine. Have you ever read a solid teen fanfic book that wasn’t based in Maine or on the other coast of America? It’s strange really. Something about dense fog and rain draw those teens right in. But what’s more interesting are the lighthouses. Why, pray tell, do those things never get any recognition? They’re clearly symbolic too. Perhaps because the protagonist is too daft himself to realize that innate symbolism behind it. Or rather the author. Perhaps because it’s too beautiful.
What is this life, really?
It’s gorgeous. I adore it. I live in an elite city, I’ll tell you. And while I’m too young to be amongst the young professionals that scour through the city, I certainly am amongst the ones who are trying to make it. I live a good life from the outside. I have a strong family, an amazing pair of older siblings, one brother, one sister. I live in a glass building. I tell you, when I was a little girl I always imagined a house of glass for myself, never thought I’d grow a pair and move to the city to live in a condo of glass. That’s symbolic too, considering I’m holed up in here most of the time.
My past is something out of a story. Ixnay the odd supernatural inclusion and yeah, my life pretty much was a good teen read. I don’t like dwelling on the past. Something about it restrains me from moving forward. But I’ll put it down here just once, so you get it.
I lived in a small town known for growing peaches. I’m dead serious. There’s a pageant every year for Peach Queen and almost always the most popular girl at my high school would attain the status. People knew you in the community. We only just got a Wal-Mart Super centre (I prefer the old place better) and one of our old historic monuments was an ice cream shoppe. There are trees, everywhere. And a beautiful escarpment to go along with it. This is where I fell in love with nature. This is where I fell in love with trees and the classical things. I developed a taste for the finer things in life to go along with that first love.
My second love was writing. I started when I was ten. I hadn’t even noticed, realized even what I was doing until it became everything I thought about. Years later, it may not be the only thing I think about. But it is up there.
There are only two people in the world that I would kill for. My sister and my best friend. I’m not cold by nature but I was brought up in a strict household. Affection…I never realized it until i got older, was hard for me to come by. Mostly because of the setting I was in. And fixating on one thing to love is difficult at time. I fall in and out of love with everything and anything at a moment’s notice. But the one thing that remains constant is words.
I had loads of friends growing up. That wasn’t a problem for me. But it wasn’t until I hit high school that I realized I hadn’t a close friend. Clue in the one person I could never get tired of. She’s a genius. We’ll call her…Amelia, for identity’s sake. Amelia is the smartest person I know. Intellectually. She’s working to become a cardiologist. How the hell we clicked, I wasn’t sure. The closest thing I have to love, probably. She moved away in the twelfth grade. We wrote letters, Skyped, called each other often. But eventually things waned. They’re waning even still. But I can’t imagine any one else taking her place.
I have another best friend aside from Amelia, her name is Heather. She’s been there since I was six and will come up quite often.
My sister, Gracie, is a Human Resources Coordinator at her old university. She’s five years older than me. She raised me. I owe her pretty much everything. Also, she’s my roommate.
My brother, Viktor, is a dispelling character. I don’t know how to quite describe him. A sophisticate to the tee, I suppose, for it was him that influenced me to acquire such delicate tastes. He’s not all that refined himself, but he’s clever. Up there with Amelia. He’s finished up his university with a degree in material engineering. He likes intelligence and other models. He gets in with his model friends and high-status parties. He once met Scary-Spice (this apparently made him cool) and has never worked a day in his life for the belief that he should be worked under.
My parents are traditional. They taught me to be humble, respectful and honest. I swear by them all. I’m always thinking: Perhaps I’m not too humble. Perhaps I can be more respectful of others. Perhaps I need to sugarcoat some truths. But also, I disagree with my parents on just about everything. They wanted a small life for me and that will not be the result. They came from a small country and ‘enjoy’ a humble life. They’re a touchy topic and hopefully will not be brought up for the most part.
I am creative. I write, paint, sketch, take pictures all with the hope that some day I can figure out what makes something beautiful. I’m obsessed with finding it. I look toward models and fashion spreads for this reason. I study the nature of people and the actual environment. It drives me mad. Sometimes I can’t sleep with the thought of it. That there is so much I crave to see and for it, perhaps I’ll never settle down in my life. Because I can’t ever imagine just being with one person, one beauty and ignoring the rest for the whole of my existence.
That’s why I have books. Write books. To imagine this beauty and put it on paper. Because somehow, for some odd reason, I don’t think I’ll see it in this lifetime. So, therefore, one can only imagine.