MURPHY, annabel eva

[annabel eva murphy]

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[atrb= border, 0, true] annabel eva murphy. [/style][style= width: 194px; height: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/20r7ktx.jpg);] [/style][style=width: 194px; padding-top: 19px; padding-bottom: 19px; background-color: #dd7f7e; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #f1f1f1; font-style: italic;]courtney.

PERSONALITY... "Some of my peers have called me a bipolar bitch, and don’t tell, but there’s some truth to that. I know that I’m not the nicest person in the world majority of the time. I’ll accept it when you call me a bitch. But I’m not just a bitch. My moods shift like no other. I’m an emotional person, and I tend to let my emotions control me. Therefore, I’m a rather passionate person. Even I can’t deny my faults; they make me who I am. I’m not always the nicest person, nor am I the most modest. I tend to be controlling, and I like to have things go my way. I know that things don’t always work out, but I’ve learned that if I try hard enough, I can change how things will work out, and make everything a little bit better. I try to be selfless, but it’s difficult. I’m one of those girls who can make friends with you in a moment’s time. I like to have fun, and people have told me it just has something to do with the way that I carry myself. I’m confident, and people tend to be drawn to confident people. Confident people make you feel more confident. As long as you’re at ease, you’re more likely to be yourself, and to be happy with who you are. It’s that moment when you finally see that people actually like you, they like who you are. I love watching people have that moment. I love making people happy; it’s like my life passion or something. I’m the type that can put you at ease. I don’t even try most of the time – it just sort of happens. I like to have a good time, and I like to meet new people. I’m judgmental. And I won’t lie, but I care about my social life. I care about what people think about me, at least to a degree. It doesn’t stop me from being myself, but I am a teenage girl. I’d like to think that I’m well-liked, and that no one out there was some warped view of me. Bad views I can understand, as long as they’re justified. And the same goes with the good opinions as well. If you think I’m some fallen angel, perfect in every way – please get over that quickly. I’m not perfect. I’m one of the farthest things from it. I love who I am, yes, but I can’t deny the facts. Recently I’ve realized I tend to put little acts on. I’ll pretend to be nice to someone that I don’t like, just because being nice is always a good first option. If I don’t like you, though, then there are no guarantees. I will probably be a bitch to you, but I might play nice if you have something that I like. I’m not the type that can just sit back and let things happen - I have to have some type of control. I do, I don’t wait for things to be done for me. I don’t take the easy route. I take the route that gets things done, the route that gets things done right. Why else would you put time into anything? I’m never going to be a damsel in distress - I can take care of myself. I’m crazy stubborn and I’ve grown up dependent on myself, no one else. I’ve lost trust in people. I can’t just blindly hand off my heart or my trust anymore, both have been broken far too many times over rather trivial and pointless things. I’m learning what’s important, but it’s taking some time. I’m bound to make a million more mistakes." APPEARANCE... Storm gray eyes that glitter with heartfelt mischief and a flirtatious smirk. Standing at 5'6" with a slender frame, Anna dresses herself in high-price threads, keeping up with the trends. No tattoos, and she only has the standard single ear piercing that she got at the young age of 2 years old. HISTORY... "A good place to start would be family, right? My family is practically nonexistent. My mother has told me that I should have been an abortion, that they should have just gone through with their plans and aborted me. It’s not the easiest thing to hear, but I’ve definitely gotten over it by now. She’s a bitch, and my father just fades in the background and ignores me. I don’t think I’ve ever had a full, actual conversation with him. He’s a workaholic, but he owns his own law firm, so I guess I can forgive him. Straight out of law school he started it, having come from old money. He and my mother were already married; they had met years and years ago on his graduation trip to France, where he picked her up like some common place prostitute. It was practically a dream come true for her; some rich American, going-to-be-a-lawyer, old money hotshot picks her up and sweeps her away for this “fairytale life”. She became his trophy. I really don’t think that they’re at all in love, but then again, I never see them interact. He’s always in his office, and she’s always out socializing or controlling my life. She pushed me into modeling at a young age, along with pageants and etiquette classes and whatever else. She was training me to be a trophy wife, to be the silent woman behind a powerful man, to be some guys’ permanent arm candy. That’s not for me. I’m the type of woman that is the even more powerful woman next to a powerful man. There wasn’t anything I could do about everything that my mother has forced me into. I ditched the pageants at age thirteen, but the etiquette classes and modeling kept on going. I was making a name for myself; my mother always told me that. I would thank her later. My beauty was all that I had, so I had to use it in every way that I could, or else I’d fail. As you can see, I wasn’t brought up sheltered or coddled. This is what was drilled into my head my entire childhood. I have confidence in myself, and I know that I’m not just a pretty face. But I am still modeling, and I’d like to think that I’m polite and well-mannered, at least towards adults. It’s how I was brought up. My pre-teen years were difficult. I rebelled. I ditched out on modeling shoots, I ignored my mother, I went out and partied every night with the high school popular kids. I hooked up with random guys. I was drunk out of my mind, possibly drugged, when I lost my virginity. I was thirteen. Sex has never meant much to me, and I didn’t put much on it at the time, but now it bugs me a bit more. I don’t even know the name of the guy who took my virginity. I can’t even remember his face. And in the next two years, I had probably slept with nearly fifty guys. When I finally realized that I needed to stop this drinking and partying and sex, I pulled out. I wanted out. I wanted to move, and so we did. The only reason for the realization was because I was pregnant, but I only found out when I had a miscarriage. No one knows this, though, and I don’t see myself telling anyone. Ever. And I won’t tell anyone how many guys I have actually been with. I just don’t see it happening. Hell, me writing this out right now is the closest that I’ll ever get. Why did I even decide to start writing this anyways? Oh well. In the trash it goes, after being shredded a thousand times over. Before I do that though, I want to finish. I’m a lot happier now, and I’m over that little rebel phase. It obviously changed me dramatically, but things are definitely better now. I’m away from my parents, and I’m finally doing modeling for me, not just for my mother. I don’t have to pretend to be happy and perfect all the time. I don’t even talk to my parents. It makes life easier, and they certainly don’t seem to mind whatsoever. So here I am now, living my life. Let’s just hope no one comes around and fucks it all up again, just as I’m starting to figure it all out." [/style][style= width: 188px; height: 100px; background-color: #bda194; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; font-size: 09px; color: #656565; border-top: #bda194 2px solid; border-bottom: #bda194 2px solid; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 3px; overflow: auto;]Human nature. The instinct to fall in love, to have children and settle down into a comfortable life. A mother’s love, deeper than anything else a human being could ever know. And the grief that struck as something, someone is torn away. Animalistic instincts and actions that become common - softly biting one’s lip, a soft smile in greeting. It was so strong and, no matter how much she may wish, life would continue on. Human nature was to be selfish. To put oneself before others, with the only exception being their children. To look out for their own wellbeing and focus on their own emotions, their own thoughts and experiences. It was normal, and so was the guilt for feeling as such. Societal expectations meeting human nature. Sometimes, it was impossible to tell one from another. Anna had been battling with her feelings for months. She wanted to be happy for Lucas and Lena - they deserved a baby, living and breathing. They deserved happiness and the life that she couldn’t obtain. They were married, and they already had Sophia, even if she wasn’t biologically Lucas’. But she was jealous, and weary. The last thing Anna wanted was for them to go through what she and Eli had gone through. The idea of pregnancy and babies being magical and innocent had broken the second the nurse couldn’t find her son’s heartbeat. She wanted to pull away from herself and her own experiences to rejoice with them. She wanted to be normal and better, and she wanted this for them. She should want this for them. But there had been complications, and Anna couldn’t handle that. The idea of getting attached to a baby that was bound to die, just like her son, was impossible to bear. She had long since decided that she wouldn’t have any other children. Bennett was it for her, and the idea of any others or trying again felt like the worst of betrayals. She had pulled away, making her guilt even deeper. She was selfish. She was a terrible person, and she should be able to visit Lena in her pregnant state without returning to her own desperate sorrows and deepest fears. Anna had felt guilt, but not enough to break out of whatever locks that were holding her back from Lena and her unborn children. She should have been able to celebrate with two of her best friends without fearing that they’ll experience the same tragedies that she had, without memories and nightmares filling her thoughts. She’d seen Lena a few times, but not often. And now, pulling into her house from her daily trip to the cemetery, her phone vibrated from its place in the cup holder. Reading it quickly, she was shocked in her seat. The twins were coming, Lena was in labor. They hadn’t died. Lena’s labor wasn’t being induced after the babies died, like Anna’s had been. It was soon, sure, but she knew that a couple of weeks early were common for twins, though the knowledge didn’t hold off her worry. There was still plenty of room for things to turn sour. Not thinking twice, she backed out of her driveway again, now turning in the direction of the hospital. It wasn’t long before she pulled in, snaking through the different lines of cars for the closest parking spot, lingering without realizing. She wanted to be there, but she didn’t. Anna was completely lost and confused, but she knew exactly what she should do. She should be there for Lena, no matter what. Not even bothering to diagnose her own feelings, she rushed into the hospital, turning to a fast walk towards where a nurse had directed her. It wasn’t long before she was standing in front of the door, taking a deep breath to steady herself before pushing the door open, revealing a mass of chaos. One baby’s cry filled the air, and now doctors were rushing everywhere, pushing Anna out of the way before she backed out of the room again, something foreign grasping at her chest and making it impossible for her to breathe. She couldn’t breathe. No matter how much air she sucked in with ever gasp, she couldn’t. Leaning against the wall, her eyes wild before she shut them, she swallowed heavily, unable to shake the panic filling her. Selfish. She was selfish, ridden with thoughts of her deceased son as her best friend’s children were brought into this world. Selfish because she wasn’t there, like she should be. But she couldn’t move and couldn’t think, everything was too much and it was all happening again. Pregnancy was terrible and tragic, and it wasn’t always perfect like she had once thought. This wasn’t just her own experiences, not anymore - Lucas and Lena were experiencing their own tragedies. She’d never go there again. She didn’t want to. Never. This had happened before. Panic attacks. This was the first one that had happened any time other than awakening from a nightmare, and every time scared her to death, making it even more impossible to shake. Time passed, and she wasn’t sure how long it was, as she stood outside of the door trying to gain composure again. Return to terrible attempts at appearing perfect and normal again. No matter what was going on in that room, she should be there for Lena, the twins, Lucas. They’d be there for her. They would have been there for her if she had let them in and let them know. Lucas had been around to help her this past year, more than she even realized and recognized, even if he had his own life and worries. Despite this, being the terrible person she is, she felt alone and worthless, like none of her friends had time to worry about her anymore. She was so wrong, but she couldn’t understand it. Just as she started to come back around, she noticed Lucas rushing out of the room. It took her a moment longer to get her legs functioning to her command again, but she followed him to the hallway he had escaped to. Anna had known from brief glances and things she overheard screams that broke through the resounding silence, that Lena had almost died, but everyone was okay now. Lucas wasn’t okay. So now, maybe, just maybe, Anna could redeem herself for just a moment. She could be worth something and she could help him. She needed to. Whatever was going on in that room could wait for this. But she didn’t know what to say once she reached him. Her thoughts, for once, were completely silent. What could she say? He should be rejoicing at two new lives. It wasn’t fair. Not one bit. He should be with them, happy and loving, like she should have been able to do with her own son. But she hadn’t gotten that, and he was simply passing it up. Anger suddenly filled her, but looking over at her best friend, she realized that she couldn’t yell at him right now. He didn’t need that. Pulling him to her, she hugged him tight, whether he wanted it or not. She couldn’t care less. ”She’s okay. They’re okay. You’re so lucky, Lucas, and I’m so sorry.” Her voice was a soft, comforting murmur. Sorry that he had to experience that brief moment of tragedy. Selfish thoughts bombarded at her again: at least his moment only was brief and fleeting. It was bitter and misplaced, and she hated herself for thinking it, even for a second. She was a terrible friend. A terrible person. She was far from understanding just where Lucas was, but she needed to pull him back. ”Everything’s okay now… Everyone’s alive and healthy…”

female. [/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #dd7f7e; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #f1f1f1; font-style: italic;]seventeen. [/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #dd7f7e; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #f1f1f1; font-style: italic;]junior - in crowd. [/style] [/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #dd7f7e; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #f1f1f1; font-style: italic;]charismatic. [/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #dd7f7e; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #f1f1f1; font-style: italic;]confident. [/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #dd7f7e; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #f1f1f1; font-style: italic;]stubborn.

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thereisalieinperfection @ CAUTION 2.0