Name: Ana Margery Seeder
Age: 19
Gender:Female
Occupation:N/A

History: When Ana was a small girl, her parents used to get confused at the words she’d used. “I’m blue,” she’d say, as she cried. Or, “I’m yellow,” she’d say, laughing in a fit of happiness. Of course, those turn of phrases did not stop there. “Why do you taste so sour?” She’d sometimes question, as her parents would bicker. They did not know why she’d say these things- and so, took her to a psychologist. At first, they thought the little girl was just eccentric, trying to confuse all the adults around her, but after a few tests it was learned that Ana had a rare neurological disorder, Synthesia. She could feel emotions, but she perceived them as colors and when she heard sounds, she tasted what they were. At first, worried that she’d have to be in special education for all her life, the parents kept her in their hometown of Deer Park, Washington, but upon speaking more to the diagnosing doctor, learned that she had average intelligence, she just.. Felt, heard, and saw, things differently than what others did.

That is why they moved to River Glenn, so that Ana could go into public school where the children would not mock her for having to be in a special education class, although, sometimes she did still get mocked for her odd turn of phrase. “You taste like cough syrup,” she’d sometimes say, when another was caught in a lie.

Personality:Despite her ailment, Ana has a pretty average personality, if you count that she sees emotions as colors, and tastes sounds. Other than that, the young woman is, just that. A young woman who has dreams, aspirations- and wants to never taste that acidic, nasty, icky taste of fear. Due to this, Ana has been claimed as a slight recluse, going to school and socializing there, while keeping out of the social scene elsewhere. She does, though, love sparkly things, and pretty dresses, and raised imprints.

Weapon: Ana has a steel baseball bat, that used to belong to her father. It was shoved into a closet somewhere and, upon acquiring it, the stack of closet items fell ontop of her and gave her a nasty bruise on her cheekbone.

The Last Six Days: It was the normal routine- at first, that is. Until she realized that about everywhere she went there were zombies. And.. Well, the color of fear (a sickening red, cracked with black spiderweb of images) never really left her eyesight, coloring everything with it’s dual colors seeping into the background of the shambling corpses that she spotted.

She’d seen zombie movies before (although she disliked the colors and the taste of them) and that’s why she bolted back inside, closed and locked her door, and fetched the bat. She knew what to do –or, so she hoped…