Post by presley on Sept 24, 2011 13:53:08 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://lh4.ggpht.com/-LWSqSNpIToc/TYZTxT60WjI/AAAAAAAAAUg/kX0kRj5ZB6k/BlackWood.jpg); width: 437px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30;] THE PRESLEY RAELENE WALSH EDITION  FIFTEEN, SOPHOMORE, LONER, VICTORIA JUSTICE "HELLO THERE. I'M SO GLAD YOU MADE IT HERE TODAY, BUT I'VE SEEM TO FORGOTTEN WHAT YOUR NAME WAS, IT WAS PAT... OR SOMETHING, RIGHT? NO, WELL, WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME IT THEN? FIRST, MIDDLE AND LAST, PLEASE. OH, AND PLEASE DO TELL ME ANY SCRUMPTIOUS NICKNAMES." "Wait a second. What am I here for? You know my name? Are you stalking me? Who told you my name was Pat? I'm so confused. My name is Presley. Presley Raelene Walsh. People call me Pres sometimes, but it's mostly Presley. What is this for, anyways? Do my parents know about this?" "I HAVE TO SAY, THAT'S QUITE A NAME YOU GOT THERE. I DON'T THINK I'VE HEARD IT BEFORE. TELL ME, HAVE YOU ALWAYS LIVED IN PORTLAND OR HAVE YOU COME FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE?" "Um. No, I haven't always lived in Portland. We moved here when I was twelve because of a job he'd been offered. I used to live in Tupelo, Mississippi. That's actually how I was given my name. Elvis was born there, too. My mom really enjoys his music. How many questions are you going to ask, anyways? I think I have homework to do..." "OH, I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE. HERE, LET'S LIGHTEN UP THE TOPIC A LITTLE BIT. OUT OF ALL OF THE WORDS IN THE WORLD, WHICH FIVE DESCRIBE YOU BEST AND WHY?" "Five words to describe me? No one has ever asked me that before. I’d say I am quiet, inquisitive, responsible, and socially awkward. I never have been much of a talker. I was homeschooled until we moved to Portland, Oregon, so I never really had much to say. There’s only so much you can say about the color of the lamp sitting by the couch. When I ran out of things to talk about, I read books my mom bought for me or watched television. The quiet stuck around, even in school. It’s difficult for me to pipe up and voice my opinion because I feel like it’s unwanted. My mom says I’m better off being quiet anyways.” She says I ask too many questions. I’m curious about a lot of things. Being homeschooled, I always wanted to know about things that pertained to the world outside of my home. What kind of bird is that? Where did I come from? Can you teach me how to ride a bike? Where’s dad? I asked all those questions at some point in time. I’ve always been on a short leash with my parents. There’s some questions they refused to answer, and it frustrated me. How am I supposed to be smart like they want me to if I can’t ask questions when I’m confused? That’s why I like going to public school. My teachers encourage me to ask questions. It makes me feel better rather than being a burden. Do you think I’m a burden? Do you think I ask too many questions?” “My parents have always taught me to be responsible. Whether it be putting away my toys or turning in assignments on time, they made sure I realized what was important and what wasn’t. I think being responsible is a positive thing. In elementary school, I’d get scratch and sniff stickers on my homework assignments when I turned them in on time. Those were my favorite, especially the bubblegum dinosaur ones. I also like money. Recently, my parents have been giving me an allowance for doing my chores. It helps to have an incentive to do well in school and keep up with my chores.” “Being homeschooled took its toll on my ability to make friends. I don’t have many. I think I have one or two. It’s difficult for me to talk to people. I can’t look them straight in the eyes, and um, I get really nervous talking to them—especially to boys. I’m not supposed to talk to them, and I freeze up if I’m even addressed. Well, I’ll stutter over my words if I manage to speak at all, but speaking to people is difficult to me. I can’t really blame my parents even though they didn’t really let me interact with kids my age until moving to Portland. Do you think the kids here think I’m weird?” “Someone called me naïve once. I don’t really know why they called me naïve either. I think they probably had good intentions, though. I don’t really believe people are completely evil. There’s good in everyone, but you have to dig deeper for some people than others. My mom doesn’t agree with me, so what about you? Do you believe there’s good in everyone?” "I'M NOT GOING TO LIE. YOU SEEM LIKE QUITE THE CATCH. I'M SURE YOU'RE ALWAYS BUSY, HUH? DO YOU LIKE WATCHING TELEVISION OR KNITTING? WHY DON'T YOU TELL US A LITTLE BIT ABOUT YOURSELF?" “Busy?” Presley shook her head. “Not really. I’m usually at home. You’d be amazed to hear exactly what I’m doing at home. I actually do knit and watch television sometimes! Back in Mississippi, my grandmother taught me how to knit. She said it was an important life skill. I’d consider what I do at home to be my hobbies. I watch television, surf the internet, read, knit, color, and sadly enough, I do chores. The last one might not seem like a hobby, but I do them so much, they take up a lot of my leisure time. I like ice cream, my iPhone, listening to music, shopping, looking at magazines, daydreaming, Glee, learning new things, a really good novel, and elmo coloring books. There’s only one kind of shopping I like: shopping for me. My mom likes to take me on shopping sprees to buy clothes for her. If her clothes no longer fit, she hands them down to me. I get a lot of hand-me-down’s from cousins in Mississippi, too. A new outfit is like Christmas for me—exciting. I don’t get to watch Glee often. My parents don’t approve of the show, so I’m stuck trying to sneak online to watch an episode before my mom gets home. Elmo coloring books are just all in good fun unless there’s ripped pages. I absolutely hate when I rip something because it’s my fault among the many other things that happen to be ‘my fault.’ I love my dad, but his behavior gets on my nerves sometimes. He always says no to me going out with my friends, and he spends more time thinking about his car than focusing on me. My dad has an old mustang that he loves to death. He’s always in the garage tending to it. I’ll ask him to help me with homework, and he’ll say he’ll me, and then he’ll forget about me for his car. I also hate chicken. I don’t know what it is about it, but I absolutely hate eating it. Is it the texture? I’m not sure. I don’t really know what I dislike more than chores, though. Homework and chores occupy most of my time, so I don’t get a lot of leisure time. I think I’m a pretty strong person. I know what I want, tend to be determined when I want to get it, and I love to read. I’m also generally very honest. Don’t get me wrong. I have my flaws. In fact, I’m convinced my flaws outweigh my strengths. I’m socially awkward, don’t stand up for myself, and can be overshadowed without a sweat. My grades aren’t terrible, but they aren’t terrific either. I average a B or C, and it frustrates my father. I try my best to do well in school, but there are some things I have to let go. I try not to stress over every little thing like my cousin back in Mississippi does. Last but not least, I have unrealistic goals. I want a boyfriend. I want friends. I want to be popular. I doubt that’ll happen anytime soon, but I keep hoping and hoping for my big break. I should probably stop getting my hopes up only to get them crushed, shouldn’t I?” "YOU SOUND PRETTY FEARLESS, BUT THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING YOU'RE AFRAID OF. ANY JUICY SECRETS?" “I feel like I’m at a slumber party! Well, I’ve never been to a slumber party, but all these questions make me think of a slumber party. That’s how it is in the movies anyway. I don’t really know what to be afraid of. I don’t really have any friends, so I can’t really be afraid of losing my friends. I guess I’m really afraid of upsetting my parents. I really don’t like being yelled at by my dad when I do something wrong. It makes me feel insecure about myself. Do you want to know what really bothers me, though? I hate how—“ Presley stopped short. Biting on her bottom lip, she looked the interviewer in the eyes. “You won’t tell, will you? Because I’d hate for anyone to hear about this. Of course you won’t. Alright, I’ll tell you.” Presley paused for a long moment. Sucking in a sharp breath, she continued with her previous thought. “I hate how tightly bound I am to my parents. I’m fifteen years old, and they don’t give me any kind of freedom! They always have to know where I am, and they always have to know what I’m doing. It really bugs me, but you can’t tell them I said that. They’d be really angry with me if you did.” "DON'T TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY, BUT ARE YOU GAY? I MEAN, IT WASN'T SOMETHING YOU SAID OR ANYTHING. I'M JUST A CURIOUS OLD BADGER. UM. WHAT DO YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE? IS THAT BETTER? I GUESS YOU DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER IF YOU DON'T WANT TO." “Gay? Why are you asking me if I’m gay? I don’t like girls. I haven’t even had the chance to date a boy, yet. I don’t think I’d want to date a girl. That seems so weird and gross! Oh, you were only asking? Oh. Well, no. I’m not ‘gay’. I like boys. I don’t really know what a good boyfriend would be because I’ve never had one. I guess I’d want a cute boyfriend. There was this boy in my English class last year with blonde hair and really pretty green eyes. His name was Cole, but he was a football player, so it didn’t go anyway. I guess if I were to choose my ‘dream boy’, I’d say he’d have blonde hair and green eyes like Cole. I’d want him to like me for who I am. I don’t think boys like me, though. There are a lot of really pretty girls out there who are really outgoing and funny. I’m not really outgoing or funny, so I don’t think I have to worry about any boy drama anytime soon. I want a boyfriend, but my parents said I’m not allowed to date, so that is that. No boys for Presley. Are we done yet?” "ALRIGHT, ENOUGH WITH THE HEAVY STUFF. LET'S TALK ABOUT... MUSIC. I THINK YOU MENTIONED SOMETHING ABOUT POP OR HIP HOP EARLIER. WHAT KIND OF MUSIC DO YOU LIKE? RAP, COUNTRY, JAZZ? WHAT ARE YOUR TOP FIVE MOST PLAYED SONGS ON ITUNES?" “Rap and Hip hop?” Presley shook her head. “My mom can’t stand that kind of music, so I’m not very fond of it, either. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a song of either genre all the way through! Oh, you said Pop and Hip Hop. Pop is okay. Some of them are really catchy, too. I like John Mayer and Taylor Swift the best. For my fifteenth birthday, my parents bought me an iPhone. I was completely shocked. I put all my songs on it. I don’t have very many, though. I’m trying to save up for an iTunes gift card. I have a couple Elvis Presley songs, too. He’s a great singer. My top five most played songs on my iPod are: Lips of an Angel by Hinder, Allstar by Smash Mouth, A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton, Follow Me by Uncle Kracker, and Baby One More Time by Britney Spears. I don’t listen to Britney anymore, though. My mom says she’s too controversial. I really like old, slow songs, too. My parents are old-fashioned as well, so that’s where I’m influenced musically.” "LISTENING TO MUSIC LIKE THAT? YOU'RE SURE TO BE A STAR IN THE NEAR FUTURE. YOU SEEM LIKE A WELL-ROUNDED YOUNG PERSON, MY DEAR. WHERE DO YOU FIND YOURSELF TO BE IN FIVE YEARS FROM NOW?" “Thanks. I try to be.” Presley smiled a little wider. Maybe this person wasn’t so bad. She had to take a minute to ponder the question at hand. Where would she be in five years? Finally, she replied, “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ll probably be going to the community college since my mom works there. I might be living on my own and making my own decisions for once. I might be working at the movie theater for minimum wage. There’s so many different ways my life could turn in five or six years.” "IF IT MEANS ANYTHING, I'LL BE ROOTING FOR YOU WHEN THE TIME COMES. I'M SURE YOUR PARENTS WILL TOO. SPEAKING OF YOUR PARENTS, WHY DON'T YOU TELL US THEIR NAMES AND WHAT YOU THINK OF THEM! DO YOU HAVE ANY SIBLINGS, PETS, OTHER RELATIVES?" “The Walsh family is made up of four individuals. My mom’s name is Kelly. My dad’s name is Anthony. I have a cat, too. He’s a fat, orange tabby that I named Ranger. My mom mostly calls him Fat Cat because he eats everything. She doesn’t really like him, and neither does my dad, so we take refuge in my room most of the time. I guess I’m kind of close to my parents, but we’re not best friends or anything. My mom reads my very few text messages and emails if I’m not careful. I want to talk to her about things, but I’m too afraid of what she’ll say to go through with it. My parents are very opinionated people, and challenging their order is pretty much sudden death. My dad helps me with my homework, but we’re not very close at all. I can’t seem to do anything right when it comes to them. He is also really involved with what I can and cannot do. Ranger likes me, though. He purrs when I pet his belly.” "OH, I SEE. WELL, WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME. WHY DON'T WE WRAP THIS UP WITH YOUR STORY? HOW DID YOU END UP IN PORTLAND, OREGON?" “Oh, we’re finally done? Yay! As I had mentioned above, I was born in Tupelo, Mississippi. My parents, Kelly Wright and Anthony Walsh were married three years before I came around. I was perfectly planned, and when I was born, my mother had already had the perfect name for her perfect daughter. Presley, after the King of Rock N’ Roll himself, Elvis Presley. From the start, my parents have been very watchful of me. As a kid, I was constantly being monitored and looked after. School for most kids started when they were four or five. My parents decided to start me up early. I could write my name in legible scrawl by the time I was four years old. My parents were proud of my growth as a child, but they rarely let me spend time with the children in our neighborhood. I was cooped up inside the house watching Dora the Explorer or Barney on summer days instead of going to the river like a few of the neighborhood kids did. I never had a problem with it then. It’s too late to change the past, so I’m as okay with it as I will ever be now. My parents taught me not to hold grudges, and I don’t most of the time. When I was twelve, my father could no longer afford our home on the river, so we moved halfway across the country to Portland, Oregon. I was excited when we first moved. My mom was forced to get a job as well, so they could no longer homeschool me. For seventh grade, I went to public school. Movie made public school seem like torture, but it wasn’t! Not at first, anyways. I was slow to make friends. I didn’t have much experience in the social department, but I managed for seventh grade year. Eighth grade came with a familiarity in the loneliness I experienced. By freshman year at Kimball High School, I was officially dubbed a ‘Loner’. The few friends I had made in junior high no longer talked to me, and I was officially alone. My parents began giving me frayed nerves around this time as well. They wouldn’t let me buy cute clothes, and I wasn’t gifted with a phone until my fifteenth birthday. Right now, I’m tired of the mediocre life my parents want me to live. There are so many rules at my house, and there’s so many chores. I don’t understand why my parents can’t do their own laundry. Why am I stuck doing the dishes every night? It’s little things like the chores that make me impatient. School has become a safe haven for me because it’s the only place I can make my own decisions. Somehow, that’s not enough, though. I want a boyfriend. I want friends. I want to be popular!” ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE Check out my examples around the site, please! CHAR, THREE YEARS, CREATOR, ADMIN EDIT |
