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message 1: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments

[ Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ ] Willow Jade Callaghan, "Willie"

[ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ ] female
[ Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕ ] heterosexual
[ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ ] single

[ Aɢᴇ﹕ ] 19
[ Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ﹕ ] November 10

[ Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ ]

(view spoiler)
[ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ] 5'4
[ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ] 115

[ Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ ] Pyper Smith

[ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕ ]

[ Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕ ]



[ Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕ ]
□ none

Ella James

message 2: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments Ok so where do you wanna start? Just a normal day of texting? And narrating briefly what their life and stuff is like? Then we can do where maybe they call and etc, then after a few posts of that we can skip a few weeks and nareate them being all close and cute, flirting, then the supsicions sinks in after two months? Or one month?i may not hav e time to sit down and think of a history and make it all nice untik late tonight, but i can squeeze in a post in an hour or two? Will you start offif you dont mind? If you really insist i can later hahah

message 3: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments Willie tossed her unruly blonde hair over her shoulder, spitting loose tendrils out of her face with disdain. Her blue eyes, rimmed with dark eyeliner and her thick lashes, rolled back into her head dramatically as slammed the house door behind her. It was a chilly winter afternoon, the wind nipping at Willow's hollow cheeks and bitting her lips with what she could have sworn wad frostbite. Tugging her favorite worn leather bomber close to her chest, the wind whipping bleach blonde wisps about her eyes, Willie stalked angrily in her black combat boots down the haggard, desecrated street. Her sorry excuse of a house was a leaning, tired looking single story, of faded beige color. The front lawn was anything but mowed, tall weeds growing and spilling out onto the cracked sidewalk. A chain link fence surrounded the "front yard", giving off an unfriendly appearance to the rest of the similarly conditioned neighborhood.

Nobody in little Avalon had the time, the money, or the motivation, to keep their grass cleanly cut every Tuesday morning. Nobody cared. They had bigger things to be worrying about, such as when their next paycheck was coming in, who the mysterious backyard burglar was, why the cops kept visiting that one house down the street. Avalon was a little ghetto, one that Willie had been born and raised into. Inhabited by the lowliest walks of life, including the drug addicts, dealers, alcoholics, wife beaters, and ex-inmates, she'd always been surrounded by the worst. She was immune, though, she'd grown to be able to defend herself against the creeps, she knew who to trust, and she had her friends in the neighborhood who would protect her. Although her uncle wasn't the kindest, he was the only family she knew of, and he had always managed to keep her safe when she got into the trickiest situations.

Today was grocery day, the day after her uncle was paid for work. She still wasn't sure exactly what it was that he did, but she was pretty sure it had to be something illegal. Late hours, locked doors, his absence for several days at a time, large wads of cash laying around- she had a pretty good idea. Willow, although she despised grocery shopping, and hated to run errands for that lazy pig, still adored the freedom in her step when she left the house every grocery day. It was an excuse to be out of the house, not scrubbing grout or getting an earful of why she hadn't gotten a job yet. It was just... difficult to stay hired. Without any means of motor transportation, she had to walk there, run even- and it was nearly impossible to stay on time. That, and with a skimpy high school diploma as her only background, Willie was hardly the candidate to be hired.

She was in and out of kitchens, mopping bathrooms at fast food restaurants, or stocking shelves... but it wasnt something that Willow really could see herself doing forever. College was out of the question. Her kind of people were the ones who sold themselves to others to use, or who stooped to the lowest level to get by- like her mother supposedly had. Her uncle, this morning, had just like any other morning, forced her to awake at an early ungodly hour, ran her senseless through a series of household tasks that were traditionally reserved for a woman, and Willie had taken over the role of "housewife". She cooked, cleaned, organized, sorted, arranged, picked up, and shopped- merely because Uncle couldn't do anything for himself. On top of everything else Willow was handling, her workload kept her just busy enough to keep her occupied from dawn to dusk. By the time she returned home every night, she passed out on her bed- that was, after making her uncle dinner. If he was home.

Trapped in the dreadful situation she was, a girl without any means of escaping the awful world she lived in, Willie had always been an angry girl. She snapped at everyone, she tended to be brief, rude, sarcastic- her sharp tongue normally either got her into trouble or saved her from being hurt. Edna, the African American woman who lived two houses down with her three bug eyed kids, had been one of Willie's only confidantes. Unlike the rest of the unsmiling, bitter neighborhood, Edna had always been the cheerful stern mother-like figure ever since Willow was a toddler. She'd practically raised Willow, and she found herself spending whatever free time she could with that woman. Nobody else was really worth Willow's trust. Her supposed girl friends that she sometimes hung out with when they went out to parties? They were never good to Willie when she was drunk stupid, or when she was being harassed. Willow had put on masks to supposedly fit in with them, feign their everlasting friendship. Could Willow care any less about a few hoes?

Walking with her head down, the blonde took her usual route towards the shopping plaza just out of the residential area. She kicked a dirty weather worn waterbottle with her scuffed boots on the sidewalk with vengeance, still fuming from her Uncle's conniving tone. "You think you do everything around here, eh? Who's keeping food on the table? Who's the only one who can keep a job for more than a month around here? Get out, and don't come back without the red bottle of whiskey this time!" Oh, Willie's blood boiled. How she hated, hated that man! How could he dare talk to her like that! She still felt the slap of his words on her cheeks, her pride injured by his sharp snarling tongue.

Leaning against a stoplight pole , her hand jamming the crosswalk button, Willie began to ache inside. She yearned to just leave that awful place behind, and to run away with Jonathan into the sunset. It just sounded so easy, didn't it? She was nineteen, for goodness sake, why was she so pathetic? Perhaps it was fear, fear that he would find her and hurt her, leave bruises on her like she'd seen on the other kids. Perhaps it was because she deep down, loved him, and was afraid of losing her one family member. Attachment. Cowardice. Where did it matter anymore? Willow, dejected, cold, and discouraged, her shoulders slumped forward in dismay as she crossed the polluted street, felt compelled to throw herself onto the grown and weep, weep dramatically like those Disney princesses, like she imagined Ella James would.

Ella James was who Jonathan thought he was talking to. Ella, daddy's girl, who rode horses every Thursday afternoon and who's mommy was a lawyer. She was perfect, and oh she was beautiful. Long brown cascading curls, big brown doe eyes, flushed cheeks, boobs- she was the epitome of perfect. Willow had never seen herself as beautiful, but rather ghastly and too pale- she felt hideous. She felt that no one could love those pale blue eyes, or her shocking white hair. Jonathan, he was perfect, and Willow loved him. She was convinced they'd get married some day, or at least in their wildest dreams. As if... Just as Willow yanked a rattling shopping cart into the store, her phone had vibrated violently with with a text message. She'd stolen it, of course with nifty fingers, and with her sly and flirty behavior, she'd convinced some tech guy to reset the phone for her.

It had been Jonathan. Oh her sweet Johnny boy! Giddiness erupted inside her chest as she read his simple message, her lip bitten down as she hunched over over the phone greedily. "Hey, yourself :) I wish you lived closer, I've got nothing to do all day!" She'd written, just to get the conversation started. With a stupid grin on her lips, Willie pushed herself off on the cart towards the produce section like some great big toddler- waiting in anxiety for Jonathans reply.

(view spoiler)

message 4: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments And Jonathan was so swoonworthy. Just thinking about him made Willie drool, a stupid grin on her face. Her miserable mood had dissipated with Jonathan's sweet little text. He made her incredibly bipolar, her safe haven whether she was home or out and about. It could be one of those days that Willow screamed, beat her head against a wall senselessly, or contemplated ending her life (which was often), and all it would take was a hello from Jonathan. She could be sobbing in her room, curled up on the floor after recieveing a tounge lashing from her insensitive uncle, and Jonathan sending her a lengthy text rant about someone he'd encountered at the grocery store would have a bashful smile on her flushed cheeks. Perhaps that's why she was so addicted to him, why she stayed up late sometimes exchanging messages back and forth until her eyelids forced her to sleep.

He seemed to care about Willie, well, Ella anyway- he made her feel like she mattered, like she was more than just white trash living in the ghetto. She was valuable, in his eyes. Maybe it was because Ella had money, because Ella was pretty, because Ella played innocent all the time... The whole online dating thing was damaging to her emotional and mental health, however, and it was slowly eating away at her remaining sanity. All this lying, hiding, pretending- it had never been healthy, it had never been the proper way to have a relationship with anyone. These kinds of relationships broke off after a few weeks, it ended in despair and argument. Willow dreaded already the day that would come when Jonathan no longer believed that it really were "Ella" on the other side of the screen, considering that Willie had taken the girl's face easily off the internet. She was just some small model who was full of herself on social media.

Willie had never gotten so close and personal with someone so quickly like she had with Jonathan. Edna was the only one she trusted and loved, and had that same respect returned to her. She could, using Ella's supposed bubbly and kind personality, reveal her frustrations and complaints, tell her what aspirations she actually had without fearing being mocked, and tell him her secrets. When she'd mentioned cramps, due to that special time of the month, Jonathan had worried up and down for her and tried to make her suffering less painful by telling her things about his life, making jokes, and teasing her for "being cute". He was enough to make any girl faint at the heart, even someone as hard headed and snappy as her. Nobody could have guessed that someone like her was behind sweet, lovely Ella James.

Snarling at a rude mother who had cut Willow off with her shopping cart and nearly caused a collision, Willow temporarily forgot about Jonathan. Her phone was discarded into her pocket, and her focus shifted to making sure she dumped the proper items into her basket. Bananas, the nonorganic kind. The butter top white bread, by Nature's Own. Her uncle would not eat any other kind of bread, he was that particular. Lactose free milk, because regular milk made her uncle have stomach problems for days. That one protein powder in the black container with a gold label, her uncle was on a type of cleanse. Sour cream, beans, avocado, salsa- they were having bean dip for dinner, it was cheap and usually lasted them a few days. And so Willow grudgingly swept through the market, a permanent scowl etched into her pale face, her blue eyes unblinking at those around who gave her friendly smiles.

Weeks, maybe even a little over a month, had passed since she and Jonathan had begun talking. He believed her to be a peachy twenty-one year old, living in a nice Beverly Hills mansion, named Ella. All of it was lies. Willie desperately hated herself, wished she could just morph into this imaginary being that she had dreamt up. Ella was perfect, she was beautiful, she had everything- and Willie was the neglected gutter trash. It just wasn't fair, being born like this. It wasnt! Who would have her? There was no such thing as a fairy tale ending, Willow knew so. The only guys she knew dealt drugs, had problems with the police, or were, no offenae, hideous. Nobody suited her like Jonathan did. At times she came close to mentioning her real identity, perhaps breaking it gently ro him before things got too serious- but she could never muster the courage.

Daily, the two would text nonstop, from morning till night, and then some. Willow had even mentioned the 'L' word once, her heart aching when she realized that their futures would never intertwine. A few times, she would slip up- accidentally text him while she was angry and say something about her annoying uncle and his latest offense- before quickly mentioning that her uncle lived with them because he was "in need". Dangerous encounters like so made Willow cry sometimes for hours. The weight of the whole dating relationship and the lies, ignoring Jonathan when he asked to talk or when he asked her what she meant when she said she was walking through a sketchy neighborhood by accident. More than ever, she ahd also become rebellious, propelled by the confidence she had with Jonathan at her back and Edna's encouragement. She talked back more than a few times to her uncle, treated then accordingly with a strike to the face. Jonathan was just so close to her grasp, yet she couldnt touch him...

message 5: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments ((Ack i will make it up to you))

message 6: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments For replying so late -.-

message 7: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments Yeah i know. Ive been super busy this week so ive only been able tp squeeze in a reply or two, hoping that i get to this today if i finish my essay

message 8: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments Wait so is he not gonna call her?

message 9: by E M M A (new)

E M M A  | 2245 comments It was just another bad day. Willow seemed to have alot of those, bad days. They happened all the time, for no apparent reason. Even if Willie had been decently kind that day, it still backfired and made her miserable for the rest of the week. Lately, she had felt grouchy and snippy, lashing out for no reason st all. At first, she had assumed and blamed it on her special time of the month- so had her uncle, and Edna. But the rest of the month, also, Willow was disagreeable, refusing to comply with anyone and being particularly stubborn. She spoke rudely, and whenever someone questioned her or asked her something, she was quick to spit on them with venomous spiteful words. Willow could feel the change herself, and knew it was because of her discomfort and anguish over Jonathan. She just wanted him. It wasn't fair!

She would never be able to meet him, let alone have him love who she really was. Would he still have those cute nicknames for her when she revealed herself? Doubtful. Irritated, she was quick to place her blame on others- for awhile, even her uncle had stepped down from his high horse to leave her alone for a while. After a few weeks, however, it became intolerable. Willow kept hurting Edna with her harsh tone and cold shoulder, her frequent daily visits dwindled to maybe once a week for a meal. Hurting inside, Willow had no idea how to cope with herself. She was disgusted with her lies and ability to pretend she was someone else, to decieved an innocent guy she loved so very much. It wasn't uncommon for Willie to cry herself to sleep some nigjts, hugging her big pillow as if it were Jonathan, until she at last closed her eyes.

As a result of her loss of composure, Willow's facade had been difficult to maintain as well as she had the months before. Lies were forgotten, mixed up, or not even told. Her words usually were muddled, her replies became short and blunt, less often, and delayed. Sometimes she would wait an hour to text him back. She refused to tell him what was wrong when he inquired, sometimes she even stopped texting him at that point for the day. Jonathan, unsuspecting, he had no idea what was going on, what was wrong with her all of a sudden. Nobody did, not even Edna. As long as Willow kept her emotions bottled up like a hurricane trapped inside of her, the worse she became. Unpleasant and snarling in person, even Ella sometimes was awful to talk to. Then Willie would make up some awful thing, like her mom losing her job to blame for her mistemper.

It was tiresome, and most of the time, Willow contemplated leaving him all together. Just stop replying, blocking his phone number. Of course, she could never do it herself. It was too... too difficult. Her heart screamed for Jonathan. With his beautiful brown eyes and what she assumed was his deep, hot voice, he was the epitome of perfect. Walking downtown one afternoon after a blowup between her and her uncle, Willow vomited into a trashcan on the dirty cracked sidewalks. She had seen, in one of the bus stop ads, a large blown up poster of... Ella. The model Willow had chosen, a smalltown, inexperienced model, had her own ad. For some perfume! Willow couldn't stop crying when she returned home, researching that stupid model with boiling hatred. Articles read that she was a model "on the rise". She was perfect, too- and Willow even felt worse. She couldn't text him today.

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