“Even as my heart aches, and I stain my pale flesh red—the world continues to spin, I continue to breathe.”
Species → Human, descendant of the Sioux Tribe
Occupation → Student, Ticket Booth Operator at The Paramount
Neighborhood → Harbor Heights, two bedroom - lives alone.
Residency Status → New to Town
+ Generous, passionate, clever.
- Anxious, self-Righteous, stand-Offish
Memory, the scientific community says, is mostly false. The mind is a powerful tool, capable of making sense of what makes no sense, of reformatting the inconvenient events that do not fit within the host’s worldview, and of inventing scenarios entirely because they are easier, or required, or earnestly believed. The mind’s usual job is to fill the holes in the gaps, connect events during the times we weren’t paying attention, and putting a hearing aid to the background white noise to amplify and explain moments we didn’t witness enough of. Usually, the mind is there to clarify the things we’ve seen, or to reinvent them. Sometimes, though less often, the mind takes measures to forget things entirely.
It’s hard to analyze one’s history when there’s so many pieces missing, like a patchwork quilt with some connecting tiles gone, no longer around to bridge the gap between one event and the next, leaving a life scattered, half-lived, half-remembered. But that’s just the ways things are, sometimes. Some people are great at remembering things, but it seems Elise is better at forgetting. Before she struck out to live life on her own, at a time much later than most grown children would abandon the nest, her parents were eager to find answers, and, if they dare to hope, a cure. She spent her childhood in and out of psychiatrists’ and neurologists’ offices, receiving evaluations, and brain scans, and her parents’ fervent hope for an explanation of the inexplicable. But nothing conclusive ever came. Some professionals suggested the repression of a past trauma, others suggested it was a deficiency in short-term memory, but no cause emerged, nor did a pattern, nor did a solution. Even if a conclusion that would satisfy her family could be reached, there wasn’t a way to fix that metaphorical hole in her head.
For years Elise tolerated the well-intentioned,—though somewhat condescending,—smothering her family saw fit to bestow upon her, long after she had accepted what she was, and figured out ways to navigate life with the occasional lost puzzle piece. She never forgot the important things, after all: her name, how to speak, how to live, how to add, subtract, multiply, divide, how to bake a killer batch of Snickerdoodles, how to operate a vehicle, (though it took some time to convince her father even attempting such an endeavor wasn’t ultimately doomed to end in the fiery wreckage of twisted metal). It was select occurrences she had a more difficult time holding on to. Eventually, the time came where she had to prove to everyone else she could do this whole life thing on her own. Her family had talked her out of college the first time, but she was neither deficient nor invalid. After patiently and meticulously stockpiling her savings from a job as a barista at the local coffee shop, a colossal task, even when she was living rent-free at home, she had enough to cover the post-aid expense of a college education, and received admittance to a far-away enough university: Astoria. Well-knowing her parents would find a way to stand between her and the future, as usual, she gathered the necessary resolve and, one night before the start of the semester, packed up her car and drove off, leaving only a note behind. Maybe, someday, she’d see them again, long after she had proven herself beyond their far-reaching doubt.
Will be updated at a later time.
Her face claim is Rachel Hurd-Wood and she is currently Autumn.
Original Character written by Autumn.
amandla
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