Dear Agony (A Prelude)
Dec 3, 2012 1:25:54 GMT -5
Post by casteele on Dec 3, 2012 1:25:54 GMT -5
Water runs from the industry-standard steel faucet into the industry-standard white porcelain sink, the sight as run-of-the-mill and ordinary as one can get in the confines of dorm-style living. The vivid neon pink that suddenly floods into the basin fades quickly enough, but the faintest stain that it leaves behind will never quite come out, permanently marking it as something different, unique. Such is the way that life itself works, throwing someone through experience after experience, with each leaving its own faint mark that might not always be blatantly obvious… but will eternally linger. Those stains are what define the human condition, the things that cling to someone's being like that layer of soap scum that no amount of scrubbing seemingly ever budges. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, they hold fast, refusing to let go regardless of if it means salvation or damnation.
Such is the story of Jana Alyssa Smith, the woman now known as Alyssa Casteele.
--and stay out!
For a single surreal moment, the pink-haired girl feels like she's flying… and then she comes crashing back down to Earth, the impact driving all of the air out of her lungs as she lands on the sidewalk in a tangle of limbs and bondage straps. Her beat-up black duffel that had once hauled around her gymnastic gear when she was a kid lands beside her, no care paid to its contents-- not that it surprises her. People don't usually give a damn about how they treat what they view as garbage… and after the fight she's just had with the people that brought her into the world before doing their damndest to force her into a mold that she rejected with every fiber of her being?
In their eyes, she definitely qualifies.
Startling when the door slams shut behind her, the motion awakens all sorts of small and subtle aches and pains that have her wincing as she pushes herself up off of the ground, her legs gathering beneath herself so that she's crouching on the sidewalk instead of being sprawled out upon it. Dimly, she feels blood trickling down from the left corner of her mouth. When she swipes it off with the back of one bracelet-festooned arm, she swears that it spreads to the skin beneath… even though there's nothing there when she finally makes it to the local Circle K bathroom to wash up.
That night, the seventeen-year-old girl sleeps in a homeless shelter for the first time, curled around her duffel bag like it's the only friend she has left in the world.
H-Hello, miss?
The thick Southern accent that muddles the words of the other teenaged girl speaking is something that Jana's only gradually getting accustomed to-- much less always being addressed in such a formal way. Glancing up from where she's settled in against an exterior brick wall, the pink-haired girl finds herself looking at a well-dressed blond with wildly curly hair and a warm smile, as warm as the weather had been without the muggy, uncomfortable stickiness. After a moment, she realizes she's staring… so after awkwardly clearing her throat, she replied.
Yeah? …oh.
A pause; she groans as she realizes just how dark it's getting. It takes all of her self-control to not start cursing at the stupid anti-loitering laws that the city had. Gathering her legs beneath herself, the pink-haired girl stands.
Sorry, I'll get a move on--
The blond frantically shakes her head, holding a hand up to stop the pink-haired girl from walking away.
Now hold on a moment there, sugah. I'm not out here to chase you off.
Now that surprises Jana, one of her brows arching.
…oh?
Well, yeah. I couldn't talk my mom into letting you come home with us, but I did get Mister Morgan to give me this for you.
The Southern Belle holds out her hand; within it? A ticket to the North Carolina Wrestling show that's going on inside of the building that they are standing in front of. Blinking a bit, the pink-haired girl takes it, looking down at it… before she figures out just what the blond is up to. A reason to be on the premises, inside and out of the night without having to go to a shelter? She'll take that any day of the week.
Thanks. That's cool of you.
The blond chuckles softly.
I try. Now c'mon-- the first bout's about to start. And let me tell you, you don't want to miss it. What's your name, anyway?
That's a question that the pink-haired girl hasn’t been faced with-- not since she'd hit the road a year ago. Her name… it's something that her parents could use to track her down someday, not that they'd ever want to. Still, though, she has to use something… so she says the first thing that comes to mind.
…Alyssa. Alyssa Casteele.
Nice to meet you. I'm Natalie-- oh Bless, that's Jaden's entrance music! We better hurry!
And, with that, Natalie snags the other girl's hand and hauls her inside, the duo finding their seats right next to the railing at ringside. Amidst the flashing lights and chants, the cheers and jeers in the hours that follow… the pink-haired girl finds something that, finally, she can hold onto and make her own. Someday?
She'll be the one walking down that ramp, soaking in the cheers.
Hey 'Lyss, you comin'?[/color]
Just a sec, Vic! Jesus...
The young man with blue hair and a ring through his lip can't help but chuckle to himself at the sound of muffled cursing and rustling that always preceded his girlfriend's departure from the hurricane-level disaster that was their bedroom. A final thud and she emerges, atomically bright pink hair pulled up into a ponytail. Dressed in simple black work-out gear that's not all that different from what he's wearing, she lightly socks him in the shoulder with her left hand before leaning up and kissing his cheek.
See? You didn't have to wait that long after all.
Yeah yeah yeah… now let's get a move on. Ol' Grumbleass won't let us hear the end of it if we're late.
Reaching down, Vic-- full name Victor James-- takes her hand in his before leading the way out of their basement-level apartment and into the heat of the bright, sunshiny day. The heat's already reaching near-oppressing levels… not that she minds it. How can she? She's living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, off the street and as far away from the fake, plastic people that had discarded her as soon as they figured out that they couldn't make her into one of them. Add onto that how she's found her soulmate and begun pursuing her dream? There's nowhere else on the face of the Earth that she'd rather be--
He stops short, suddenly, a bit of a nervous smile tugging his lips.
Hey, uh, 'Lyss… you wanna snag somethin' to eat real quick before we go to the school?
A blond brow quirks as she looks up at him, the sudden change one that jars her too much to be ignored.
I guess so, but what happened to bein' in a hurry?
Hunger pangs happened to me bein' in a hurry. Now c'mon.
Whatever you say-- hey!
Snagged by the hand, Alyssa finds herself being bodily hauled into the nearest restaurant… a local hot dog joint, one with all of five options on the menu. The scent of pork hangs heavily on the air, something that gets her stomach growling while also arousing her suspicions further. Why?
And what, exactly, is your vegetarian ass gonna get to eat here?
I-I-I…
The stunned, guilty look on his face is enough for her to pull away from him entirely, her arms crossing over her chest as she glares at him. She can't help how her voice grows louder, harsher… and at the moment? She also can't find it in herself to care.
You've got exactly five seconds to tell me just what the fuck is goin' on here--
Viccy! There you are!
The bleached blond that strides up to them is about as far away from the pink-haired girl as one could get, in terms of appearance. Hair perfectly coiffed, there's no way that her dress cost less than a couple grand… and judging by the way that she looks at Alyssa? Anyone that doesn't dress as she does is considered lesser.
Provided that they're not porkin' her on a regular basis, that is.
The blond simpers over him, leaning up and kissing his cheek.
I just wanted to remind you about the appointment we've got with the caterer for the reception. You will be showing up, yes? I mean, Mommy and Daddy--
Oh.
Oh.
So that's what's going on, mm? Alyssa scowls… before affecting the most saccharine smile she can, deciding to interject in a tone that's so pleased and delighted if one ignores the lack of sincerity.
Oh, Vic never mentioned to me that he was getting married! Congratulations, sweetie. You're a very lucky woman.
As she expected, the adulation thaws the blond's attitude toward her since she finds herself on the receiving end of a matching smile, just as insincere as the people that the pink-haired girl thought she'd left behind.
Why thank you, honey! I don't think my Viccy's ever mentioned you before. Who might you be?
It's only that legendary fury of a woman scorned that keeps the smile on Alyssa's lips.
I'm the woman your Viccy has been fucking on a regular basis for the last six months.
As the color drains from both of their faces, the pink-haired young woman knows that she will be back on the street before the night is over. By now?
The idea doesn't so much as make her blink.
Such is the story of Jana Alyssa Smith, the woman now known as Alyssa Casteele.
-------------------------∞-------------------------
October 29th, 2008
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
--and stay out!
For a single surreal moment, the pink-haired girl feels like she's flying… and then she comes crashing back down to Earth, the impact driving all of the air out of her lungs as she lands on the sidewalk in a tangle of limbs and bondage straps. Her beat-up black duffel that had once hauled around her gymnastic gear when she was a kid lands beside her, no care paid to its contents-- not that it surprises her. People don't usually give a damn about how they treat what they view as garbage… and after the fight she's just had with the people that brought her into the world before doing their damndest to force her into a mold that she rejected with every fiber of her being?
In their eyes, she definitely qualifies.
Startling when the door slams shut behind her, the motion awakens all sorts of small and subtle aches and pains that have her wincing as she pushes herself up off of the ground, her legs gathering beneath herself so that she's crouching on the sidewalk instead of being sprawled out upon it. Dimly, she feels blood trickling down from the left corner of her mouth. When she swipes it off with the back of one bracelet-festooned arm, she swears that it spreads to the skin beneath… even though there's nothing there when she finally makes it to the local Circle K bathroom to wash up.
That night, the seventeen-year-old girl sleeps in a homeless shelter for the first time, curled around her duffel bag like it's the only friend she has left in the world.
-------------------------∞-------------------------
August 17th, 2009
Durham, North Carolina
Durham, North Carolina
H-Hello, miss?
The thick Southern accent that muddles the words of the other teenaged girl speaking is something that Jana's only gradually getting accustomed to-- much less always being addressed in such a formal way. Glancing up from where she's settled in against an exterior brick wall, the pink-haired girl finds herself looking at a well-dressed blond with wildly curly hair and a warm smile, as warm as the weather had been without the muggy, uncomfortable stickiness. After a moment, she realizes she's staring… so after awkwardly clearing her throat, she replied.
Yeah? …oh.
A pause; she groans as she realizes just how dark it's getting. It takes all of her self-control to not start cursing at the stupid anti-loitering laws that the city had. Gathering her legs beneath herself, the pink-haired girl stands.
Sorry, I'll get a move on--
The blond frantically shakes her head, holding a hand up to stop the pink-haired girl from walking away.
Now hold on a moment there, sugah. I'm not out here to chase you off.
Now that surprises Jana, one of her brows arching.
…oh?
Well, yeah. I couldn't talk my mom into letting you come home with us, but I did get Mister Morgan to give me this for you.
The Southern Belle holds out her hand; within it? A ticket to the North Carolina Wrestling show that's going on inside of the building that they are standing in front of. Blinking a bit, the pink-haired girl takes it, looking down at it… before she figures out just what the blond is up to. A reason to be on the premises, inside and out of the night without having to go to a shelter? She'll take that any day of the week.
Thanks. That's cool of you.
The blond chuckles softly.
I try. Now c'mon-- the first bout's about to start. And let me tell you, you don't want to miss it. What's your name, anyway?
That's a question that the pink-haired girl hasn’t been faced with-- not since she'd hit the road a year ago. Her name… it's something that her parents could use to track her down someday, not that they'd ever want to. Still, though, she has to use something… so she says the first thing that comes to mind.
…Alyssa. Alyssa Casteele.
Nice to meet you. I'm Natalie-- oh Bless, that's Jaden's entrance music! We better hurry!
And, with that, Natalie snags the other girl's hand and hauls her inside, the duo finding their seats right next to the railing at ringside. Amidst the flashing lights and chants, the cheers and jeers in the hours that follow… the pink-haired girl finds something that, finally, she can hold onto and make her own. Someday?
She'll be the one walking down that ramp, soaking in the cheers.
-------------------------∞-------------------------
May 9th, 2010
Miami, Florida
Miami, Florida
Hey 'Lyss, you comin'?[/color]
Just a sec, Vic! Jesus...
The young man with blue hair and a ring through his lip can't help but chuckle to himself at the sound of muffled cursing and rustling that always preceded his girlfriend's departure from the hurricane-level disaster that was their bedroom. A final thud and she emerges, atomically bright pink hair pulled up into a ponytail. Dressed in simple black work-out gear that's not all that different from what he's wearing, she lightly socks him in the shoulder with her left hand before leaning up and kissing his cheek.
See? You didn't have to wait that long after all.
Yeah yeah yeah… now let's get a move on. Ol' Grumbleass won't let us hear the end of it if we're late.
Reaching down, Vic-- full name Victor James-- takes her hand in his before leading the way out of their basement-level apartment and into the heat of the bright, sunshiny day. The heat's already reaching near-oppressing levels… not that she minds it. How can she? She's living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, off the street and as far away from the fake, plastic people that had discarded her as soon as they figured out that they couldn't make her into one of them. Add onto that how she's found her soulmate and begun pursuing her dream? There's nowhere else on the face of the Earth that she'd rather be--
He stops short, suddenly, a bit of a nervous smile tugging his lips.
Hey, uh, 'Lyss… you wanna snag somethin' to eat real quick before we go to the school?
A blond brow quirks as she looks up at him, the sudden change one that jars her too much to be ignored.
I guess so, but what happened to bein' in a hurry?
Hunger pangs happened to me bein' in a hurry. Now c'mon.
Whatever you say-- hey!
Snagged by the hand, Alyssa finds herself being bodily hauled into the nearest restaurant… a local hot dog joint, one with all of five options on the menu. The scent of pork hangs heavily on the air, something that gets her stomach growling while also arousing her suspicions further. Why?
And what, exactly, is your vegetarian ass gonna get to eat here?
I-I-I…
The stunned, guilty look on his face is enough for her to pull away from him entirely, her arms crossing over her chest as she glares at him. She can't help how her voice grows louder, harsher… and at the moment? She also can't find it in herself to care.
You've got exactly five seconds to tell me just what the fuck is goin' on here--
Viccy! There you are!
The bleached blond that strides up to them is about as far away from the pink-haired girl as one could get, in terms of appearance. Hair perfectly coiffed, there's no way that her dress cost less than a couple grand… and judging by the way that she looks at Alyssa? Anyone that doesn't dress as she does is considered lesser.
Provided that they're not porkin' her on a regular basis, that is.
The blond simpers over him, leaning up and kissing his cheek.
I just wanted to remind you about the appointment we've got with the caterer for the reception. You will be showing up, yes? I mean, Mommy and Daddy--
Oh.
Oh.
So that's what's going on, mm? Alyssa scowls… before affecting the most saccharine smile she can, deciding to interject in a tone that's so pleased and delighted if one ignores the lack of sincerity.
Oh, Vic never mentioned to me that he was getting married! Congratulations, sweetie. You're a very lucky woman.
As she expected, the adulation thaws the blond's attitude toward her since she finds herself on the receiving end of a matching smile, just as insincere as the people that the pink-haired girl thought she'd left behind.
Why thank you, honey! I don't think my Viccy's ever mentioned you before. Who might you be?
It's only that legendary fury of a woman scorned that keeps the smile on Alyssa's lips.
I'm the woman your Viccy has been fucking on a regular basis for the last six months.
As the color drains from both of their faces, the pink-haired young woman knows that she will be back on the street before the night is over. By now?
The idea doesn't so much as make her blink.