WAY, zoey mariah

[zoey]

i'm so sick infected with where i live

ZOEY MARIAH WAY
zoe. 20. female. heterosexual. werewolf. dark side. felicis.

AGE 5:

Just a simple haircut, was all that she had done. And perhaps she'd blackened the eyes and the lips of the doll. All she desired was to make the Barbie doll into her own design of beauty. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite seen the same by her sister. The screams of rage and the subsequent weeping sent the little girl scrambling away. Her stubby legs carried her down the street with blind haste. She had no idea where she was to go or what she would do when she got there; she only knew that there was going to be a lot of trouble with Mama and Papa. Because she was the princess. And her brother the prince. The twins. They were special, they were important. She was third in line, no matter which one took the helm after Papa died.

The thought of it made her quiver, as she came to a halt. Zoey hadn't been aware of her own progress as she fled from home. She'd ended up at the little park nearby. Only a few kids were swinging, no one that she knew. The day was almost gone, and every other family had gone home. Zoey exhaled. It seemed that she was safe from judgement for the moment. She knew eventually she'd have to go home, but for now, she could look forward to a few moments alone. And Zoey was beginning to realize how lovely it was to sit there in the middle of the fake ship, laying on the warm fake-wood floor and staring at the sky. No one could see her, curled up safely in the dark and the quiet. There was a certain comfort in that, in knowing that she was in control of when she received the inevitable punishment. Of course, she figured it would be whenever she got hungry.

It was quite dark by the time Zoey headed home. She moved naturally through the moonless night, with more awareness than most children would. That was the benefit of coming from a family with greater senses, with super strength, speed, and with animal instincts. Zoey knew that they weren't normal. And frankly, she saw nothing wrong with that. In fact, she embraced it, being different. "Special as a snowflake". Sometimes she heard that sarcastically shot her way, but Zoey learned by now to ignore Taylor's comments. When she walked into her house that evening, she felt an inner peace. The family could have easily tracked her down - Zoey figured someone had and decided to let her be until she was done hiding. "Coward," she thought a voice hissed. But Zoey never felt braver than listening to the lecture that night, without even a single tremble of shame or fear - only defiance.

AGE FIFTEEN:

This year she'd remade herself. For most of her life, Zoey knew what it was like to be ignored. She just wasn't mainsteam enough to fit in, but not odd enough to be noticed. She'd drifted under the radar - no one noticed her, no one looked twice. Zoey lived in the shadow of her star siblings, and she didn't know what to do with herself. Zoey had nothing special about her - she couldn't really do anything well. She couldn't sing or dance or act. She didn't have an easy-going personality, either, so making friends was out. In fact, she'd grown more and more sullen and hostile as she aged, suspicious of anyone trying to be friendly to her. Taylor had tricked Zoey more than once with false sweetness before pulling some cruel trick.

So she became someone knew. She'd taken money from her mother's purse, she'd gone to the mall. Zoey bought the hair dye, she got her lip pierced. She went home, and the next morning before school, her hair went from its ugly limp brown to pitch black. Her make-up was applied thick and dark, her lips a brilliant rose red. She stared at herself in the mirror, hands on her hips, staring with her eyes narrowed. Not quite done yet, no. So Zoey had chopped off a good portion of her beautiful long locks - hair that ran down to her waist. Soon it was choppy and black, perfectly grungy. She looked like she'd gotten into a fight last night, and was ready to get into another. She smiled, baring her teeth.

That was a beautiful morning, truly. Her sister had recoiled in surprise and a cry of dismay at seeing her little sister "mutilating herself". Her brother, laughingly sympathetic. And Audrey had been quite interested in the new look. Zoey handled their reactions easily, she had expected them. She knew her parents would be baffled by their middle daughters sudden entrance into what they thought was the "rebellious stage". Zoey knew she loved this look, though; hell if she was just going through some phase or whatever.

Unfortunately, the rest of the school had even stronger reactions to her. It was her first year of highschool, but she'd not made any new friends with this extreme look of hers. If anything, they'd gotten more adverse to her. But they noticed her, they looked at her and knew she was something special, she was no longer just the younger Way daughter. Zoey felt pretty damn good about that. They knew she wasn't like the rest; Zoey was special. Maybe not smart, maybe without many expectations, but now... now she was Zoey.

Being Zoey sure wasn't easy, though. From day one she was glowered at by the other girls. Especially Lisa-Marie. What kind of fucking name was that anyways? She was gorgeous, of course, and a sophomore. Big thick blond hair with perfect curls, giant blue eyes, lovely little lips. And Zoey hated her guts. The feeling was mutual. Lisa-Marie would breeze past Zoey out of the locker room for gym, and a soft voice would whisper, "Freak". Zoey didn't look up, just stared at her bony hands. Her nails dug into her kneecaps, and she imagined they were poking into Lisa-Marie's eyes instead. Just burrowing deeper and deeper until the blood squirted out and Lisa-Marie screamed for mercy. But Zoey would just laugh as she scrabbled at the face of the other girl, and ruined that perfect image of beauty. She'd never be pretty again, she'd know what it felt like to be looked at with disdain and - even worse - pity.

In gym, she felt a certain satisfaction. The coach would whistle for the fitness exams, and off Zoey would go on the fifty meter dash. Lisa-Marie was a cheerleader (of course), so she was naturally fit. But Zoey... Zoey was something more. Lisa-Marie couldn't fathom what a freak Zoey was. She was a monster instead, and that monster made her strong. She ran faster than any other girl that year, she was like a blur of speed. Running was one thing Zoey loved, especially when it was running away from something or someone. But that day was something different. She was running to victory. She was given high praise, asked to join the track team. She declined, not wanting to contribute to her school or anything that resembled team spirit. When she went home, she didn't say a word of the day to her family, not even little Audrey, the only sibling she felt she could totally trust. They wouldn't like her showing off her supernatural speed and strength, she knew.

What they didn't know, didn't hurt 'em.

AGE 20:

"Awww, come on baby, give us a kissykissy." Ronnie was always flirting with her, and Zoey was always turning him down. He was at least old enough to be her father, but he was as perverted as a twelve-year-old. And, he was her boss.
"Fuck you," Zoey said, lighting up a cigarette and flipping Ronnie the bird. Working as a waitress in a dirty dive bar was all Zoey could really hope for at this point. She went to community college - she figured she did her time. Majored in Art - not only to piss her parents off by being purposely useless, but because Zoey did enjoy it. She loved to draw people, good people. Those who had a kindness in their eyes, and a laugh on their lips. Zoey liked to think she was like that, somewhere inside herself. At the very least, she hoped she wasn't as much of a raging bitch as Taylor.

"You're breaking my heart, kid," Ronnie pouted as he rubbed down the bar. Zoey gave him her signature, full-tooted grin, all fierce and nasty. Ronnie smiled right back. He wasn't frightened by Zoey's attitude. In fact, he seemed charmed by it, and thought that his typical customers liked a waitress with sass. "They're all hardasses, but they like a cute ass with attitude," he advised her. Tough guys without much cash loved to float in the bar. Biker gangs were especially common, and she'd gotten on friendly terms with some of them - and in the bed with one. What a dumb bitch she was, falling for some hot shot guy on a bike.

He'd proven nothing but scum in the end. Zoey had thrown a real fit when he'd dumped her for a less fiery piece of tail - she'd practically destroyed the couch of her run down apartment, and shredded anything decorative. After wearing herself down, she'd finally sat in the middle of the destruction and bawled until her mascara ran down her face and her lipstick was smeared. Zoey had taken the guy seriously, but she was just a joke. And so, she swore she'd tear him to pieces if she ever saw him again, and told every patron in the bar this fact. He never came around again. Zoey was glad that she didn't really have to go through with violently destroying someone she once loved, secretly. Though a part of her carried a bloodlust that still wasn't satisfied.

Serving drinks that evening, Zoey felt content. She wasn't going anywhere in her life in a hurry. She had a good bit of cash to spend on the weekend, she had a boss with a good heart and a dirty mind, and she was independent. On her own. Zoey loved not needing anyone. Not depending on her family at all. Not giving a flying fuck what happened to the rest of the world, to all the races in it. Even her own family was filled with shitheads. And Zoey could sit in her own home now, and leave all the madness behind. It was a good existance.

app by kel <3

rp sample

see Mikey or Vivian : D

[JURATE]