ROSARIO “ROSIE” BUTLER. 32 28. sometimes i wonder if i should be medicated, if i would feel better just lightly sedated. the feeling comes so fast and i cannot control it. i’m on fire but i’m trying not to show it.
STATS.
GENDER/PRONOUNS: she/her, ciswoman
OCCUPATION: manager at lucky lasso, housewife, mother
HOBBIES: shopping, manicures, karaoke, drinking, horse-riding, community event planning, gossiping
NOTABLE FEATURES: contracture scars on her back/chest, upper arm. discolouration on the right side of her neck/shoulder/face (no texture change + covered with heavy makeup). hypertrophic scar on hip. facial dimples, shoulder dimples.
FC: priscilla quintana
TIMELINE.
TWs: fire, sibling death, body image, perfectionism.
0-7: A man in love doesn’t see a woman leaving her husband and child for what she is: a cycle waiting to happen. Your mother leaves before you can form words and tell her hi. She doesn’t tell you bye, either. Daddy loves you and your older brother enough for two and works that way, too.
8: The homocidal flame that ate their rickedy apartment brought a paycheque with it. Some of it paid for the grafts and surgeries to fix his daughter’s skin (and the biennial follow-ups), while the rest made them rich. You and your father, that is. Your brother is dead (and it will never be mentioned again).
9-13: Oblivious peers count your frequent days-off lucky. You relish in the false spotlight, but suffer how consistently bodies grow through childhood; skin grafting is painful and it never seems to end. Once, people called you beautiful.
14-18: Beauty is subjective. It’s also flexible. Stuff enough tissue paper down your shirt and you’re the classroom envy. Hundreds are spent on appearance enhancers and daddy’s got plenty and can’t tell you no. Ugly duckling doesn’t grow into her beauty; it is made. Life at the top is glorious and short-lived. The friends you loved and those you claimed to all promised each other a life-long bond. You never hear from them again.
19: Your studies land you outside the state, because the university of california garnered more envy than the local. What sounded like a good idea (a teaching degree) just made you loathe sticky hands. Half through it’s completion, you meet the man you make yourself love and—
20-23: —you make your husband. His lawyer position pays off your unfinished student loan and everything that you learned from it; you try for children. Everywhere needs a lawyer and Whiskey Flats is where you raise them. You live in a two-story home, not an apartment. Life is good.
24-28 (31): Then it’s boring. One girl was manageable. Two, and the depression that comes with it— her, is insufferable. By chance, a friend resorts to you as a fill-in for her understaffed jewelry store. That desperate measure turns into an unexpected (borderline inappropriate) obsession. A sense of control is found behind the counter and the conversation never ends.
28 (32): THE June Watson purchases a store in the center of town. Even better, your lucky stars align and she employs you manager. Working for a beloved, house-hold name trumps any other piece of information in an introduction: Rosie Butler, I work with (for) THE June Watson, married to a loving husband, mother of two bright girls. All those (bitches!) that claimed you peaked in highschool have gone awfully quiet these days.
