Post by Isa The Great on Aug 20, 2008 2:42:13 GMT -5
Name:Madeleine Nicolette Royale
Gender:female
Age:18
Sexuality: straight
Personality: Madeliene had spent most of her life feeling an extreme amount of hate, and hating herself for it. She wanted nothing more then to be accepted into the world she thought she had been born in. Yet while she's had twists in her life, and while she was sure she wanted nothing more then to slap someone, she has kept her heart pure. She hates seeing people miserable and hates causing it. She is not very trusting,but quick to be friends with someone. She's emotionally distant from everyone.
History: ( history is based off of my life and written in first person, as if Madeleine is telling this story to some one. )
I grew up in one trailor park after another, and for the most part of it, always with another family member outside of my parents and my brother.While I was too young to remember most of this, I had been told later how my early life went down. For days on end my parents would leave me with my eldest sister, who had her own child to look after. The only thing I personally remember from this age, around a year or so, is me, my brother, and my niece were being left with our neighbors. For the entire time we were there, I was screaming at the top of by lungs because my parents had left me again, with people I didn't trust. I was scared of them and they had still left me there. At some point one of the neighbors thought i was misbaving so she isolated me from my brother and niece. She left me in the back of the trailor, alone and in the dark. I screamed even harder, then blacked out. To this day I hate being alone in the dark, or being alone period.
Later, when I was around four, one month i would've been five, it was christmas and it was my last christmas as the baby of the family, since my sister was due january 6th. I walked into the laundry room to ask a very important question, or at least important in the eyes of a four year old. Was Santa real? Normally at such a small age, your parents would lie and say he does, but not only did my mother not lie, she also squashed the other little white lies. Like the toothfairy for example. I hadn't even lost my first tooth yet!
When my sister was born, it was as if everyone forgot all about me. What makes it even worse was the fact that my sister was born in the begining of january, i was born towards the end. First time my birthday was pretty much forgotten. Too wrapped up in the new baby, and the hospital bill takeing most of the money, which christmas hadn't helped since my sister was born so close to christmas. If it wasn't for my friends I had made in the 3 months we had lived in our neightborhood, I would've been alone.
It didn't take my mom to forget I was her first baby girl, and thought to be the last child for almost five years. She would make fun of me until I was sure I could no longer cried. She told everyone who spent the night about my bed wetting problems, and constantly told me what a failure I was, how a seven year old doesn't such her thumb. She would do this when any of my friends would come over, or whenever my brother's friend's would come over. Once I didn't make it to the bathroom on time and my friends and my brother's friends where over, and she yelled so baddly and she had me sit over the tolite repeating some words about how I would never do that again and some such words. I learnt not to have friends over unless I was certain i could trust them and not spread it around the school to where all my classmates would make fun of me.
When my mother annouced she was leaveing my dad, I was so happy. Finally the tormentor who seemed to be haunting my every waking hour, and my dreams, was leaving. Only for the first few months, she took me and my sister with her. I was around ten-ish, I had no choice but to go with her. I actually didn't know that she was taking us with her, or that she thought she was going to keep us when the divorce goes through. For one summer I had to stand by and watch my mother be more of a mother to some other man's children then her own. When the summer was up I was the one, out of her three children, who was choosen to tell her that we wanted to go back to live with dad. I did it with pure joy at seeing her crushed reaction. At ten years old I was happy to crush my mother because of all that she had put me through, this really upset me.
Once me and my sister went back to our dad, and my brother to our grandmother, I refused to even speak to my mother anymore. This went on for two years before I was forced to talk to her. Before then i hadn't even spoken to her when I went to the family christmas and thanks giving. I ignored her. It was a twisted satifation that no one that young should ever experince, and yet I did. I hated my mother for everything she had put me through.
When I was in middle school, I met two wonderful friends who understood me more then I ever could. They knew how much I had truely felt over my mom's betrayal. In seventh grade one of my friends brought me to church with her. Going made me feel like I belonged, but at the same time I felt alone. No one there had gone through what i was going through. The other teenagers all had both their parents who loved them so much and would do anything for them, I didn't. The closest i got to that feeling was the feeling like my friends parents would love me just enough to not too feel to neglated.
I'm not the type of person who forgives anything. I hold grunges until i have nothing left. When I entered high school, my mother started asking for my forgiveness, I never gave it to her. At that point, I was lost in my own world. Unable to see the light in anything anymore. My friends had pretty much abadoned me for the new friends they had started making. I didn't make a new friend that whole year. I was depressed and I barely spoke to anyone.
One of the friends I had made in middle school started cutting herself simply because she wanted attention, this she told me herself after the facts. She admitted that her life was wonderful, that she had nothing to complain about. She just wanted people to concentrate at her. But she was still mad at me because I had gone to a counslor and told on her, and they sent her to holy hills. I felt that I should have done so, that I was in the right for trying to help her, but after that, she pretty much never talked to me again, unless it was to prove to me that she was great, and that the guys loved her.
I have never been attractive. I have always been way too tall for my age and on the big side of things. I have always been pale and when i hit my teenage years my face broke out and never stopped breaking out. I have potholes that i will never be able to get away. I smelt like smoke because my dad smoked. No one want to talk to me. Not really anyways. i was always either that girl in class who doesn't speak, that girl who seems like a stuck up becuase she reads the materials the teachers gives and can write. Always the person no body cared about.
The next summer was my last war-cry, a church camp i had been going to every summer. Though my best friends had all known me so well, they couldn't tell how utterly out of control everything had gone for me, how competely alone I had become. But at camp it was like everything had gone back to normal, but I knew it wouldn't be that way when camp was over.
I had so much I needed help with, but one thing the most that isolated me from everything. I needed to forgive my mother for everything she had put me through. I was so scared to voice what I needed help with to my small group. It took me 2 days to get it out.. That day I spoke about it was the day someone I had never met before spoke up in my workshop.We were praying when he suddenly spoke up " Some one here is feeling hatard towards someone in their family." no one said anything for moments and then i knew that someone he was talking about was me. i was astoshind. i had NEVER even seen this guy before and God had spoken to him about what I was feeling.
That night I broke down at small group. I told all my friends from church that I was struggleing to forgive my mother. A good friend hurt me by saying " we all knew she would say that' as if she knew what I had gone through. It took all my strength not to bitch slap her right then and there. She knew NOTHING about my personal life and had no right to say anything.
I prayed the remaining days of camp and when i left, I felt a burden being lifted off my shoulders. Everything seemed lighter. With help, I had come to forgive my mother for everything.
Two years later my mother tried to kill herself by overdoseing on pills. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing over the fact that my mother was trying to leave the world she had brought me up in. I've felt no emotions what so ever. Its something I wish could change, but hasn't yet. Its an enempty feeling and it leaves one cold. Six months later my sister did the same thing. My sister had been running away from home since what our mother did and this just went overboard.
I got the call when I was in my first block class. I have never felt more scared. I blamed it on myself, and still do. If I was there for her then perhaps she wouldn't have tried to kill herself.
It was after my sister was out of the hospital That I was told that I was adopted. It was then that I felt changes in my body. I was an angel, though I would never fully understand it. How could I not know what I had been born as? I hope too find the answers to that.
Gender:female
Age:18
Sexuality: straight
Personality: Madeliene had spent most of her life feeling an extreme amount of hate, and hating herself for it. She wanted nothing more then to be accepted into the world she thought she had been born in. Yet while she's had twists in her life, and while she was sure she wanted nothing more then to slap someone, she has kept her heart pure. She hates seeing people miserable and hates causing it. She is not very trusting,but quick to be friends with someone. She's emotionally distant from everyone.
History: ( history is based off of my life and written in first person, as if Madeleine is telling this story to some one. )
I grew up in one trailor park after another, and for the most part of it, always with another family member outside of my parents and my brother.While I was too young to remember most of this, I had been told later how my early life went down. For days on end my parents would leave me with my eldest sister, who had her own child to look after. The only thing I personally remember from this age, around a year or so, is me, my brother, and my niece were being left with our neighbors. For the entire time we were there, I was screaming at the top of by lungs because my parents had left me again, with people I didn't trust. I was scared of them and they had still left me there. At some point one of the neighbors thought i was misbaving so she isolated me from my brother and niece. She left me in the back of the trailor, alone and in the dark. I screamed even harder, then blacked out. To this day I hate being alone in the dark, or being alone period.
Later, when I was around four, one month i would've been five, it was christmas and it was my last christmas as the baby of the family, since my sister was due january 6th. I walked into the laundry room to ask a very important question, or at least important in the eyes of a four year old. Was Santa real? Normally at such a small age, your parents would lie and say he does, but not only did my mother not lie, she also squashed the other little white lies. Like the toothfairy for example. I hadn't even lost my first tooth yet!
When my sister was born, it was as if everyone forgot all about me. What makes it even worse was the fact that my sister was born in the begining of january, i was born towards the end. First time my birthday was pretty much forgotten. Too wrapped up in the new baby, and the hospital bill takeing most of the money, which christmas hadn't helped since my sister was born so close to christmas. If it wasn't for my friends I had made in the 3 months we had lived in our neightborhood, I would've been alone.
It didn't take my mom to forget I was her first baby girl, and thought to be the last child for almost five years. She would make fun of me until I was sure I could no longer cried. She told everyone who spent the night about my bed wetting problems, and constantly told me what a failure I was, how a seven year old doesn't such her thumb. She would do this when any of my friends would come over, or whenever my brother's friend's would come over. Once I didn't make it to the bathroom on time and my friends and my brother's friends where over, and she yelled so baddly and she had me sit over the tolite repeating some words about how I would never do that again and some such words. I learnt not to have friends over unless I was certain i could trust them and not spread it around the school to where all my classmates would make fun of me.
When my mother annouced she was leaveing my dad, I was so happy. Finally the tormentor who seemed to be haunting my every waking hour, and my dreams, was leaving. Only for the first few months, she took me and my sister with her. I was around ten-ish, I had no choice but to go with her. I actually didn't know that she was taking us with her, or that she thought she was going to keep us when the divorce goes through. For one summer I had to stand by and watch my mother be more of a mother to some other man's children then her own. When the summer was up I was the one, out of her three children, who was choosen to tell her that we wanted to go back to live with dad. I did it with pure joy at seeing her crushed reaction. At ten years old I was happy to crush my mother because of all that she had put me through, this really upset me.
Once me and my sister went back to our dad, and my brother to our grandmother, I refused to even speak to my mother anymore. This went on for two years before I was forced to talk to her. Before then i hadn't even spoken to her when I went to the family christmas and thanks giving. I ignored her. It was a twisted satifation that no one that young should ever experince, and yet I did. I hated my mother for everything she had put me through.
When I was in middle school, I met two wonderful friends who understood me more then I ever could. They knew how much I had truely felt over my mom's betrayal. In seventh grade one of my friends brought me to church with her. Going made me feel like I belonged, but at the same time I felt alone. No one there had gone through what i was going through. The other teenagers all had both their parents who loved them so much and would do anything for them, I didn't. The closest i got to that feeling was the feeling like my friends parents would love me just enough to not too feel to neglated.
I'm not the type of person who forgives anything. I hold grunges until i have nothing left. When I entered high school, my mother started asking for my forgiveness, I never gave it to her. At that point, I was lost in my own world. Unable to see the light in anything anymore. My friends had pretty much abadoned me for the new friends they had started making. I didn't make a new friend that whole year. I was depressed and I barely spoke to anyone.
One of the friends I had made in middle school started cutting herself simply because she wanted attention, this she told me herself after the facts. She admitted that her life was wonderful, that she had nothing to complain about. She just wanted people to concentrate at her. But she was still mad at me because I had gone to a counslor and told on her, and they sent her to holy hills. I felt that I should have done so, that I was in the right for trying to help her, but after that, she pretty much never talked to me again, unless it was to prove to me that she was great, and that the guys loved her.
I have never been attractive. I have always been way too tall for my age and on the big side of things. I have always been pale and when i hit my teenage years my face broke out and never stopped breaking out. I have potholes that i will never be able to get away. I smelt like smoke because my dad smoked. No one want to talk to me. Not really anyways. i was always either that girl in class who doesn't speak, that girl who seems like a stuck up becuase she reads the materials the teachers gives and can write. Always the person no body cared about.
The next summer was my last war-cry, a church camp i had been going to every summer. Though my best friends had all known me so well, they couldn't tell how utterly out of control everything had gone for me, how competely alone I had become. But at camp it was like everything had gone back to normal, but I knew it wouldn't be that way when camp was over.
I had so much I needed help with, but one thing the most that isolated me from everything. I needed to forgive my mother for everything she had put me through. I was so scared to voice what I needed help with to my small group. It took me 2 days to get it out.. That day I spoke about it was the day someone I had never met before spoke up in my workshop.We were praying when he suddenly spoke up " Some one here is feeling hatard towards someone in their family." no one said anything for moments and then i knew that someone he was talking about was me. i was astoshind. i had NEVER even seen this guy before and God had spoken to him about what I was feeling.
That night I broke down at small group. I told all my friends from church that I was struggleing to forgive my mother. A good friend hurt me by saying " we all knew she would say that' as if she knew what I had gone through. It took all my strength not to bitch slap her right then and there. She knew NOTHING about my personal life and had no right to say anything.
I prayed the remaining days of camp and when i left, I felt a burden being lifted off my shoulders. Everything seemed lighter. With help, I had come to forgive my mother for everything.
Two years later my mother tried to kill herself by overdoseing on pills. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing over the fact that my mother was trying to leave the world she had brought me up in. I've felt no emotions what so ever. Its something I wish could change, but hasn't yet. Its an enempty feeling and it leaves one cold. Six months later my sister did the same thing. My sister had been running away from home since what our mother did and this just went overboard.
I got the call when I was in my first block class. I have never felt more scared. I blamed it on myself, and still do. If I was there for her then perhaps she wouldn't have tried to kill herself.
It was after my sister was out of the hospital That I was told that I was adopted. It was then that I felt changes in my body. I was an angel, though I would never fully understand it. How could I not know what I had been born as? I hope too find the answers to that.