

Name:
"Well it's Celeste, but if you're going to call me that, pronounce it right. It's Suh-lest. Not Kel-est." Celeste Marie Rinehart
Age:
Twenty years old.
Species:
Human
Sex:
"Well you should really be able to tell." Female
History:
"It hasn't been easy, but I've made the best of it." Celeste was born to a small, but happy family in a small, but friendly Alabama town. Her mother, Laila Smith was a pretty Native American woman who had lived on a reserve with her tribe her entire life until Johnathon Rinehart came sweeping through. The two of the fell in love instantly, and Laila left everything behind to be with him, moving to a tiny farmtown in Alabama. John and Laila were married and, not a year later, Laila discovered she was pregnant with twins. Portia and Clinton, Celeste's older siblings. Two years later, Laila was pregnant once again, this time with Celeste.
Though she may have been born into a happy family, she was raised in a broken home. Five years after her birth, Celeste's fathers job called for him to move to New York. The family would have to pack up and start all over somewhere new. Somewhere completely alien. Her mother refused to go to the city. She'd already left her life behind once for him, she was not about to do it again. She had never been a centimeter outside Alabama borders and she explained to Celeste's father that New York would probably send her into shock. This made Johnathon angry.
In the middle of the night, he left, taking five-year-old Celeste and seven-year-olds Portia and Clinton with him, leaving her mother to wake and find herself alone. Throughout the long drive there, Celeste's father didn't stop. He just kept driving and driving, anger fueling him late into the night, and when he could hardly keep his eyes open, he'd simply pop open a beer, grow even more angry, and keep going. So, one night at midnight, while the three children slept peacefully in the back seat, Johnathon Rinehart swerved into an oncoming semi truck.
Everyone died but Celeste. She made it out with scars and bruises, but still very much alive. Portia had been thrown through the windshield and Clinton's neck snapped upon impact. Her fathers body had been crushed so badly it was hardly recognizable. And remarkably, five-year-old Celeste was still alive, every bone in her body intact. Even if her family no longer was.
News of the crash reached her mother and Celeste was sent home to a broken woman. While she was too young to truly grasp what had happened, Laila Rinehart had lost a husband and two children in one night, the last conversation she'd ever had with him had been shrieked at the top of her lungs. Laila was diagnosed with depression and for the next fourteen years of her life, Celeste was lucky if she could get her mother out of her room. Some days were good days and the woman sang beautifully while making pancakes and laughing with her daughter. Others, Celeste was lucky if her mother would brush her hair or set down her drink to look her in the eye.
During Celeste's eighteenth year, she wasn't making enough money to pay for her mothers medications and had to constantly make sure someone was watching the broken woman, leaving her to live every day in fear that her mother would take her life while she was at work, unable to be there for her. On the anniversary of the crash, Laila Rinehart finally did it, leaving Celeste utterly alone.
Suddenly unable to stand the suffocating smallness of the town she'd loved for nineteen years, Celeste packed up and moved to the city, ready to leave her life behind her. Shortly after her mothers suicide, Celeste was diagnosed with depression, but not as severe as Laila's. As long as she took her medication, she was perfectly okay. When she arrived in the city, Celeste ound that it was a cruel place and, having trouble finding somewhere to stay, roomed up with a young girl who'd had nearly as rough of a life as herself and three older boys they tried their best to avoid.
Nyx Goldwin and her were fast friends, while Nyx was strong and abrasive, Celeste was weak and quiet. They were polar opposites, and yet somehow their friendship worked. They lived together for eleven months until Celeste was offered a promotion in a major fashion company. Her higher salary allowed her to buy a larger, nicer apartment, but Nyx wasn't making enough to cover the monthly fee so the two of them went their separate ways and Celeste found herself utterly alone once again.
She doesn't look, she doesn't see
Opens up for nobody
Figures out, she figures out
Narrow line, she can't decide
Everything short of suicide
Never hurts, nearly works
Something is scratching
Its way out
Something you want
To forget about
A part of you that'll never show
You're the only one that'll ever know
Take it back when it all began
Take your time, would you understand
What it's all about?
What it's all about?
Something is scratching
Its way out
Something you want
To forget about
No one expects
You to get up
All on your own with
No one around
