Post by imogen ellis waller. on Oct 17, 2009 4:50:15 GMT -5
YOU TREAT ME JUST LIKE ANOTHER
stranger, well its nice to meet you sir. i guess i'll go.[/color][/font][/center]
[/blockquote][/blockquote]"it's not like anyone even fucking cares. why the fuck should i have to tell you about me and who i am? you're a fucking magical hat; you should know everything there is to know about me. i shouldn't have to write down shit on a piece of paper and hand it to my transfiguration professor just so she can read it to you and so you can be plonked on my head again in order for you to scream a house at me down my fucking earhole. everyone fucking knows who i am anyway. 'oh, there's that mudblood,' 'look, she's a fucking muggleborn,' 'reckon she'll sleep with me?' i've had five fucking years of it; why the hell will my sixth year be any different? answer; it won't.
i'm imogen, i s'pose. no fucking nicknames. i'm not im, not immy, not genny, not imo, i'm fucking imogen. fuck's sake. imogen ellis waller. don't fucking ask me what the fuck any of it means. it's just a bunch of words my mum decided she wanted to call me. waller isn't even mum's last name. or dad's. mum's name is stefani cooper. dad is jakob pinnington. don't ask because i don't fucking know the answer. they've got one of those 'fake' marriages where they live together but they don't actually love each other and only stick together for me and bradley. they might pretend they're all gooey and lovey dovey and that everything is all happy and wonderful in the house of .. in our house, but i'm not stupid. i know what's going on. i know mum's cheating on dad with her best friend - alison dyer is always over at our fucking house and mum always tries to make it look like she hasn't just spent the last fucking hour or five in her bedroom fingering herself and alison. i also know dad's got three women pregnant in the last month and that he's fucking his brother and his sister behind mum's back. his sister happens to be one of the people he knocked up.
so, i live in a house of lesbian and incestuous people. my mum's a les, dad's fucking his siblings. that just makes every child normal, doesn't it? bradley's four. how the fuck could they do that whilst he's there? he's a fucking kid. it's not like we have any grandparents. i don't have any aunts or uncles - apart from dad's brother and sister - that i'd want to send him to. and it's not like i could bring him here. what would a fucking four year old do at hogwarts? run around pretending he was a police man and dipping his fingers into all the potions until he found one that would fucking kill him. and i'm the only one with magic in our house. i don't think mum and dad actually know. i got the letter when i was eleven and read it, and then just went upstairs and packed my things, and waited outside on the garden wall like the letter had told me to. professor mcgonagall met me and just looked at me. i didn't say fuck all. the screams from the house behind me said it all. came back later that night with all my hogwarts stuff, and the fucking door wasn't even open. they'd gone out and just left me. started kicking the door and didn't even bat an eyelid when it crashed open; i could get anything i wanted if i concentrated hard enough. mcgonagall explained something about having to tell my parents where i was going to be for the next seven years, and i told her not to bother, and that i'd do it.
i told them that i had won a scholarship to clifton college ( a boarding school somewhere in the middle of nowhere ) and fucked off to hogwarts. they didn't even care. mum just said 'that's nice, honey,' and patted me on the head. dad .. didn't even say anything. he was too busy banging his fucking sister.
no one knows about my family. my muggle life and my wizarding life are kept completely seperate. no one knows about my mum being a lesbian, no one knows about my dad knocking his fucking sister up, no one knows about bradley - i didn't even know until i came home from my first year. bradley doesn't even have the same name as me. or dad. or mum. he's bradley artock. artock. i swear to fucking god, i have the worst fucking parents in the fucking world. they don't even know how to be parents. their idea of a family meal is teaching me how to open a tin of beans without mutilating myself. as soon as i got here, i just .. changed. i refused to tell anyone anything and made a name for myself as 'the girl with muggle parents'. not the best fucking name in the world but it beat 'the girl with a lesbian mother and a father who enjoys licking his sister out and sucking his brother off'. though now, i'm more 'the girl with muggle parents who doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything and is willing to fuck anyone with fingers'.
yeah, so i'm a slut. i don't give a fuck. i like sex. who doesn't? so maybe eleven's a bit young to lose your virginity and sort of sets you up with a label for life. but i honestly couldn't care less. he was a fourth year slytherin who obviously couldn't get any in his own house or his own year, so he looked to the newbies, and i was obviously the one that stuck out. hard not to, when you've got a scowl on your face twenty-four/seven. he left at the end of my fourth year - gone somewhere to fuck some other eleven year olds, most likely - but by then i'd slept with far too many people to count .. and it was getting boring. so i slept with a girl. wasn't like it wasn't in the family. i liked it. so i kept doing it. i don't see the problem. i sleep with boys, and with girls. as long as i get my fucking kicks, i couldn't care less what you have.
oh. i'm fifteen. sixteen next month. and that's my life. fucking sort that.
ohhai, my name is ZOE and i'm EIGHTEEN years old. i've been roleplaying for TWO YEARS because i'm that awesome. you can reach me through PM. just in case you were wondering, the password is AVADA KEDAVRA! D:<.---------------------------------------------------------
WHAT KEEPS THE PRESSURE BUILDING?
WHAT TAKES YOUR BREATH AWAY?
[/center]she didn't know where she was. honestly, the whole night so far had just been .. a blur. faces all blurred together, voices sounding like her ears were stuffed full of cotton wool, feeling hot and tired and wired all at the same time. she didn't know what it was. she didn't know what was happening. she didn't know who she was with or even if she knew them. they could be random strangers for all she knew. she didn't know what song was playing, she didn't know what drink she had in her hand, she didn't know where she'd been before this, she didn't know what was going on. she just didn't know .. anything. everything was .. elusive. she couldn't grasp onto anything real. the world was spinning faster and faster and she had nothing to hold onto. she had no one to cling to make the spinning stop. so she closed her eyes. if she couldn't see, it would be alright. she felt exited, restless, scared and sick, all at the same time. she couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, her heart was beating far too fast for it to be fair. her coke tasted funny.
suddenly, her fun night out .. didn't seem so fun anymore. she didn't even remember agreeing to come out in the first place. she didn't remember anything. it was just .. gone. nothing there. as though her memory had been erased. she opened her eyes and stood still swaying slightly from the sensation of spinning, trying to catch her balance. she didn't want to be here anymore. she didn't want to feel like this anymore. she just wanted to go home .. though she didn't know where her home was now. her father had told her not to go on this tour. he'd told her she'd change. that she wouldn't be the same. she'd brushed it off simply as him being overprotective again; she was graham casey's youngest daughter - of course he was going to be protective. he'd even told her himself that he'd kill whoever had sex with her whilst she was under twenty one. she had no control whatsoever, and maybe it was this that had spurred this on. this .. whatever it was. this venture into the unknown. but if she wanted more control, how was this helping? she couldn't control herself at all; she didn't know where she was or what she was doing, who she was with or even if she had come with anyone in the first place. she wasn't the type of person to be like this; she was your typical, sweet, sixteen-year-old girl-next-door. she was the kind of girl who did her homework on time and enjoyed just curling up on the couch on a friday night, with a tub of ben & jerry's cookie dough and her cats. she wasn't .. this .. person. something had happened. she just wasn't in the right frame of mind to realise that.
she felt hands slide around her waist and she let her eyes close yet again, trying to squash the feeling of nausea, pushing away the spinning sensation and trying to focus on the good. the music, the feel of hands on her waist, being pressed close to another person. a hand snaked its way up to press itself to the back of the person's neck, forcing their head down and tilting her own up in the process. she wasn't like this. something was wrong. this was not elliot jordan casey. elliot casey was scared of her own bandmates. she'd been impossibly scared of losing her virginity .. which she'd now gone and given away to the one person who'd never think twice about her. she was the type of girl who sat around and did whatever people asked in the hopes of keeping people happen. she was not this person. she didn't kiss people without asking their names .. she didn't kiss people, period. the only person she'd kissed ( barr oliver. ) had been the same person she'd had sex with .. and was the exact same person who would probably never think twice about her. elliot wasn't the type of girl who'd just allow someone to touch her like this person was doing. she wouldn't go anywhere dressed as she was .. she didn't even own any of the clothes she was currently wearing. she pressed her lips hard against his, one hand still on the back of his neck, the other curled around her bottle of coke. she spun as he kissed back, placing her thumb strategically over the mouth of the bottle and placing her other arm around his neck. she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes ( even with high heels, she was still damn short. ) and pulled the guy closer, breathing hard and fast and not pulling nearly enough oxygen into her lungs.
she ended up on a couch. how, she had no idea. she just knew she was on one. something solid. something that couldn't fall. something she wouldn't hurt herself on. she finished her drink - or, at least, she thought it was her drink; she'd blindly grabbed it off the table in front of her - and then immediately pressed her lips back against the guy's, allowing him to flip them around so that she was sitting on his lap. she pressed her lips back against his hungrily, barely even aware of what she was doing, who she was with or where she was. she didn't even know what time it was. and a part of elliot cared .. yet another, bigger part honestly couldn't care less. she didn't know how long she was with .. whatever his name was. she wasn't focusing. she didn't care. she cared about being roughly dragged away, however. "s-slow down," she slurred, tripping over her own feet and trying to wrench her arm out of their grip. she bashed straight into them as they stopped in the middle of the floor, and clung to them in an effort to save herself from falling. she looked up and blinked at the person in front of her, pupils dilated and very, very black, giving away something was wrong. "who are you?"
atticus. obsession - innerpartysystem. one thousand and seventy nine. outfit. her drink was spiked with drugs and alcohol.either take advantage of that or help her out. and if you're manda, please don't kill me. <3
either take advantage of that or help her out. and if you're manda, please don't kill me. <3
