"I don't really think about it. I just do it."
Name:
Sarah Elizabeth Maine
Age:
22
Face Claim:
Dianna Agron
Role:
Girl one
Personality:
"I can't remember a time when I wasn't like this."
She was only ever the girl who stood out when it came to her looks, other than that she blended in and she did it well. She rarely speaks unless spoken to, and nearly has a panic attack when introduced to new people. Now how does a girl like this get in to prostitution if she can't even handle talking to people who are just being polite? The answer is simple: alcohol. When she's not drunk, she's a shy wallflower, who dreams of better days and a better life. Sobriety is a rarity for her nowadays, going through bottles of Vodka and fireball whiskey like they're water.
As a drunk, she is particularly crazy, just vacant and uncaring, occasionally laughing at jokes, but never really...there. Her entire mind is put in a drunken fog, she doesn't think, she just reacts. She's an empty doll and if you give her a couple bucks, she'll do whatever you want. In fact, if you had to compare her to something, it would be a coin operated machine that lacks personality and the will to live.
There was a time when she was different, when she had the ability to smile and volunteer at animal shelters like her life depended on it. There was a time when she lived so passionately, that people believed anything she said she was going to do with her life. A time when she didn't have a problem speaking her mind and when people would care about what she had to say. There was a time when she was alive, but life stripped that from her.
Now she's weak and when people look at her, that knew her before, all she can see in their eyes is pity.
Appearance:
"It is what it is, a beautiful mess."
Once upon a time, she was the cookie cutter version of beautiful, with blonde hair, sun kissed skin, and hazel eyes...but she was also just a kid. The older she got, the more she began to change. Not into the beautiful, cookie cutter blonde that everyone expected...but an alternative girl, with pink hair, thick make up, and an angry disposition. She began to lose the curves she had and instead became terribly thin. Black became a staple in her wardrobe and she rarely wore any other color. Most people in her family brushed it off as a phase she would grow out of. After all, she was from a prominent family and seemingly perfect home life. What did she have to rebel against?
Still, she's pretty, just a broken sort of pretty. She still has her mother's hazel eyes and petite stature, with her fathers dimples, and grandmother's freckles.
She has several piercings including her tragus, tongue, tongue web, nose, and belly button. She has no tattoos and no plans to get them.
Likes:
"Not much."
Dance
Animals
Hair dye (Pink)
Vodka
Whiskey
Absinthe
Cigarettes
Tall shoes
Black
Cookies
Mexican food
Eyeliner
Photography
The smell of rain on concrete
Long walks to anywhere
Spiked accessories
Piercings
Hookah
Dislikes:
"Quite a bit."
Anxiety
Depression
Rum
Feeling any sort of emotion
Family
Warm days
Flat shoes
Most people
Abuse
Drugs
Dating
Men
Women
Prescriptions
Doctors who tell her she's too skinny
Working
Life
Lack of funds
Small children
Most tattoos
Alphabet soup
Smiling
Ear plugs
History:
"History is history, let's leave it in the past."
Sarah was born into a wealthy family of doctors and surgeons. They were happy, as far as anyone could tell. The reality was, her parents were rarely ever home and preferred work to family life. She was raised by nannies and babysitters and private tutors. She even called some of them "mommy" and "daddy." She had so many that her tiny self could hardly keep track and had no idea what a real mother and father were, other than people who occasionally stopped by for hugs and to pay bills. Other than that, they were no one...but she desperately wanted a mother to do her hair, and a father to put her on his shoulders, but these were things she never got.
She did have her brother, and for the longest time they were close as can be, but as they approached their teens things began to change. He began making comments that made her uncomfortable and looking at her in ways that made her want to run and hide. When she was eleven and he was fourteen, he began to touch her. Not in a way a normal brother would touch his younger sister, it wasn't just hugs or typical older brother bullying...It made her feel sick and she wanted it to stop. She'd do anything to have it stop, but she couldn't tell anyone and she wouldn't. She was ashamed and her brother had threatened her on several occasions not to tell. The torment went on for years and she didn't know what to do.
When she finally reached high school, she met a guy she thought would take her away from all of that abuse...all of the pain. For a while, he was her escape, she loved him, but then things began to change. She began to take her anger out on him, call him terrible names, and wish horrible things on him...He began to hit her. After a while, she couldn't deal with it anymore. She couldn't deal with the men in her life anymore and she ran away when she was seventeen. She got a couple of part time jobs, but still wasn't making enough to live. The stress caused her to eat less, if at all, and she began drinking. Soon, she learned that money could be made in selling herself, and has been ever since.
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since eighteen
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us