āDaydreams were dangerous because they made her wish for things she could never have.ā
years of age: Twenty-four
+ creative, loyal, observant
- jealous, short-tempered, insecure
Tiffany Bell grew up in a humble home with her father and the memory of a runaway mother. She was lucky enough to be raised by a father who encouraged creativity and freedom above good grades and perfect behavior and spent more time outdoors, collecting and breaking and fixing things than she ever did in school. Tiffany was always just a little bit weird and found making friends a challenging part of growing up. Still, when she finally did make a friend (his name was Peter) she became fiercely loyal to them, vowing never to leave them, not ever. Naturally this lead to extreme bouts of rage and jealousy when those friends made other friends, an attachment issue that her father put down to the absentee mother. Little Tiff had been known to get into fights when her place as ābest friendā was threatened and once or twice it had lead to visits to the emergency room.
As she grew, Tiffanyās endless list of insecurities manifested themselves in anxiety. She often felt inadequate and overshadowed by others, and in an effort to keep the anxiety at bay she would find herself tinkering with whatever she could find. A fascination for the little, insignificant things in life led to her collecting ālost thingsā which she likes to make new and whole again. She even commandeered the garage and turned it into a workroom. Packing up shop and moving half way across the country to Woodsboro was a difficult decision for Tiffany as it meant leaving behind her father, her best friend and the home that she loved.
Tiffanyās anxiety is worse than she lets on, and has moved to Woodsboro for a āchange of perspectiveā. In other words, sheās seeing a specialist therapist. When her anxiety is particularly bad, she can lock herself away for days at a time to tinker with things. If she has nothing immediate at hand when anxiety strikes she may even pull and nip at her hands until they bleed.
āI know I tried. I was not stable, and flawed by pride. I miss my sanguine eyes.ā - Lover of the Light, Mumford and Sons
āTake away the sensation inside, bitter sweet migraine in my head. Itās like a throbbing tooth ache of the mind. I canāt take this feeling anymore.ā - Give Me Novacaine, Green Day
"They say you donāt grow up, you just grow old. Itās safe to say I havenāt done both.ā - Here I Am Alive, Yellowcard
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