Damaged (No Skelies necessary)

[ShatteredSoul]

Kirstie's family had always been that of something in a movie; mom and dad worked a lot, and when they weren't working all they could do was fight. She had always busied herself on her bed during the fights, staring out the window into the night sky, imagining herself in some odd suit of ship floating across pluto or the moon or something, living as far away from this nightmare as possible. That was when she was ten, now Kirstie is seventeen, and still the same routine persists, though her imagination had gotten quite better. She lived in New Hampshire, USA, and went to school there her whole life, now a senior in high school. No friends, no happyness at school, and a long record of bullying in all three of its forms. This hellish prison though, seemed to finally have had it toll on her after today; mom had had enough by seven in the morning and packed a bag and some money for a motel, dad left for work in a fury, and at school some stupid self righteous boy pinched her butt and pushed his weight on her body against a locker, whispering dirty remarks in her ear, then snickering as he walked away, leaving a frightful comment in the air "I want you, and I willhave you." Now its one in the afternoon and Kirstie is packing a bag with some clothes and supplies, and has already raided about one thousand five-hundred dollars out of her mothers safe, the plane ticket purchase receipt on the comupter screen revealed it all, Kirstie is flying out of here, headed to New York, from there who knows what she'll do. She plans out running away to the border and crossing into Canada where she may be able to live in the wild for a few months while searching for the right palce to stay and make her merry way in life, maybe her scars will go away and her crushed soul will rejuvenate? Its doubtful to her, and yet it makes sense.
Now a few hours later, Kirstie is sitting on the plane in third class, gazing emptilly out the window, someone sits next to her, and she fumbles her bag under the seat more...

[tothegarden]

"Oh, now don't worry about that, dearie," a voice rasped as though scrawled in ink from a dying pen on the air. The small frame from which it was emanating had reason to say so; she had no baggage, and she took up a full half of the plane seat when settled back. Her feet hovered a few inches above the ground.
"I tried to wheedle my way into first class, but I got kicked back here!" At this she let out an alarmingly loud cackle and people a few rows back could be heard straightening their newspapers and coughing audibly. Leaning in conspiratorially to Kirstie, she continued, her breath acrid --
"Going to meet my husband you know. Well, what's left of him anyway. Haven't seen him in a dog's age, and now he's died, the poor dear." Her voice softened even more as she said this, if it was possible, and though her words were spoken quietly, they had a force and magnetism not easily ignored. Her eyes were wide behind glasses reflecting the oval plane window, and she wore a funny blue and yellow floral-patterned dress which came nearly to her feet.
"Christina, dear. Now, tell me, what brings a nice young girl to a height like this?" She held out a long, lean, leathery hand.

[Apocalypto]

Pippa looked apprehensively outside the little window as the plane started taxiing, her hands curled protectively around her swollen abdomen. She hated heights and wished that she would be able to get some coke in her system, but she couldn't because of the baby. The adoption agency had been very clear. She could not do drugs while carrying the baby.

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, resting her lower back. She ached. She was tired, and this plane ride wasn't soothing her anxiety. She refused when the hostesses came and asked her if she wanted something. She didn't have air sickness, but her stomach was churning and she knew that she'd throw up if she had anything.

She pulled a print out from the small backpack that she held, and read the email again.

Dear Pippa,

She liked that they didn't call her Phillipa. She'd hated that name, and everything else her parents had left her. She hated them.

I cannot begin to express how thankful I am that you've picked us to adopt your child. I'm also grateful for you coming to New York and staying here until the baby arrives. You have no idea what an amazing gift you've given us, and we'll always be in your debt for that. I know that it will be painful to give your baby away, and Mark and I are still willing to take car of you until its birth even if you do change your mind.

Pippa's nose scrunched up as she read about giving the baby away. Yes, it would be painful, but she wouldn't show it. She never did. And she knew that no matter how much she loved her baby, she would never be able to give it the life that they would be able to.

Mark and I are willing to pick you up at the airport and take you to your apartment, if you want. Think on that and let us now. I'll sign off now, with just telling you that we are looking forward to meeting you.

Enclosed below is a picture of us, as you had asked.

Love,
Mark and Erica.

Pippa looked at the picture and saw a couple in their thirties. The man was large, tall and kind-looking, while the woman was beautiful, tiny and motherly. They were the perfect parents for her baby. She wished that her parents had been just as great, but it wasn't so. But she hadn't broken.

She wished again for the light headedness that came with coke, but denied herself again. Not even when they got to New York. There was no was she was endangering her baby any more than she already had.

She put the paper back inside and closed her eyes, thinking back to when she had first found out about the baby. She had been hysterical, and had wanted to abort. She managed to get an appointment, but when the time came, she was unable to go through with it. She was killing a baby. Her baby. Something that was growing inside of her, depending on her for its life.

No one had ever depended on her before, and she liked that feeling. Against what all her friends told her, she decided to keep the baby. She went to an adoption agency and signed up, then made sure that she had regular check ups. She still lived on the streets mostly, and was unable to look after her food, but she did the best she could.

One of her friends got her a job in a coffee shop, and she worked there for a month or so. The couple who owned it allowed her to stay there, and she took them up. Sh had the baby to look after now. After two months, she had chosen her couple, and they had gotten in touch with her. When they heard what she was doing, they invited her over to New York, to live there until the baby came.

They were genuinely nice people, Pippa could tell. They offered to have her stay with them, but she refused. Finally, she agreed to stay in a small loft in a respectable side of town which they agreed to 'rent' her. They even got her a job, and offered to pay for classes. Initially, Pippa's pride had made her refuse, but she accepted. Why look a gift horse in the face?

Pippa was jolted out of her thoughts as the plane took off. She gripped the arm rests, her knuckles white. When they were finally airborne, she turned her head sideways on the seat and observed the people sitting across the aisle in her row. One was a girl about her age, and the other was an old woman. She could hear snatches of their conversation and smiled at the woman's eccentricity. The girl was looking hunted, Pippa decided. Probably running away from her past.

Pippa couldn't blame her. That was exactly what she was doing too.

[ShatteredSoul]

Kirstie, being dragged from her mind's repetitive replay of the events that day turned to face the woman that had sat next to her, her face expressing nothing more than sad blue eyes and slightly down-curved lips. Observing the her for a moment she decided it best to play it off as if everything were ok and gave her a small forced warm smile, taking her hand and gently shaking it. In a soft, calm voice she replied, "I'm going to New York, to stay with my cousin, while my parents go on a business trip to Hawiaii. Kir-" She paused a moment, unsure of wether or not to use her real name, though she loved it, what else could she say her name was? "Kirstie."

The plane lurched forward, the seatbelt light blinking on in the front of the plane. She sighed quietly in relief as the engines roared and buckled her seatclip, pulling it tight and bracing herself for the launch. All her life she had always imagined taking off in a rocketship and flying to the moon or taking a plane to some far off country in Australia or Canada, maybe even in Europe. Being in this seat now, as the plane was beginning to take off gave her a feeling of thrill, and fear all the same.

[Saken]

The small girl shuffled about the dirty streets of New york. Her head was bent down, dark tresses seeming to fall around her head, hiding the small, pointed, chin and the large, glittering, blue eyes. She was pretty, frick, she coulda been more than pretty in the right cloths and all but.. she had a problem, more than one problem, and one of them happened to be the fact she was a hooker. A prostitute, if you wanted to be nice about it, but the nitty gritty truth was that, once night came around, she would be walkin the streets ready to go home with a stranger and give them whatever they wanted for a bit of money.

At first the girl, who's name happened to be Hope, was a strong spirited girl psuhed into the trade by her father, so she could support his habit of drinking, that and to pay the bills. She hadn't wanted her little sister (Who know happened to be dead) to be without a hospital bed. Yet, that was years ago, shit, she had only been..what, 14 at the time? Now the girl was 17 and even more of a beaut, if you could get past the second problem. The small girl was dieing, slowly but surely. She had a rare diseases that not only kept her super skinny, but also destroyed and ate her from the inside out. (Fake diseas y'all..Or at least I think so.)

So, she was dieing, a hooker and, if she wasn't careful, would soon also be on crack of some other shit. The bad part of New york..It wasn't all glitz and glamor, and she hoped everyone knew that. A girl could get killed here, her aching ribs a testimony to this. The John had gotten a bit rough last night, but he had paid her extra and she still had to support her da, and pay of the debts.

[blackrose43]

Kirstie's family had always been that of something in a movie; mom and dad worked a lot, and when they weren't working all they could do was fight. She had always busied herself on her bed during the fights, staring out the window into the night sky, imagining herself in some odd suit of ship floating across pluto or the moon or something, living as far away from this nightmare as possible. That was when she was ten, now Kirstie is seventeen, and still the same routine persists, though her imagination had gotten quite better. She lived in New Hampshire, USA, and went to school there her whole life, now a senior in high school. No friends, no happyness at school, and a long record of bullying in all three of its forms. This hellish prison though, seemed to finally have had it toll on her after today; mom had had enough by seven in the morning and packed a bag and some money for a motel, dad left for work in a fury, and at school some stupid self righteous boy pinched her butt and pushed his weight on her body against a locker, whispering dirty remarks in her ear, then snickering as he walked away, leaving a frightful comment in the air "I want you, and I willhave you." Now its one in the afternoon and Kirstie is packing a bag with some clothes and supplies, and has already raided about one thousand five-hundred dollars out of her mothers safe, the plane ticket purchase receipt on the comupter screen revealed it all, Kirstie is flying out of here, headed to New York, from there who knows what she'll do. She plans out running away to the border and crossing into Canada where she may be able to live in the wild for a few months while searching for the right palce to stay and make her merry way in life, maybe her scars will go away and her crushed soul will rejuvenate? Its doubtful to her, and yet it makes sense.
Now a few hours later, Kirstie is sitting on the plane in third class, gazing emptilly out the window, someone sits next to her, and she fumbles her bag under the seat more...

This is great. Can I add on?

[Saint Bella]

The thunder clap from the uncomfortably close cloud by her window shook Barbara Leigh Sky up from a wild, pot-induced dream consisting of sparkly narwhals and a midget in need of blueberry scones. "Barbie", as the curly-haired actress was known by, arched her back from the uncomfortable position the cheap airline chair dug into her back. After a long yawn and a good pat to the head for self measure, Barbie dug into her SnapBack for her phone. She savored the moment of overwhelming heart burst from her wallpaper: her boyfriend Henna twirling her around and both of their faces set in total laughter. She put her phone away, shaking her head. The plane light basking her in a warm glow flickered lazily, but was soon lowered for the night.

Barbie couldn't sleep again. After her father cutting her off for funding at , she had to transfer to LaGaurdia Community College on 47th for a full ride. His promise came through, if she hadn't transferred from the Theatre program by the end of her Summer course in Ireland, he would stop funding her education at University of Maryland. LaGuardia was the only college that would give her a full ride from her Valedictorian title and skills in the theatrical arts. The only upside happened to be the 12 minute ride to Broadway and the Theatre district.

An elderly woman behind her cackled loudly, and Barbie jumped from her seat. Her curls bounced against the head of the seat and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself down. The woman explained she was going to see her deceased husband, the poor dear. Christina, as her name was now revealed, reminded Barbie of her own grandmother. Barbie's grandmother Ellie May is a lanky woman with dreadlocks and wise remarks of advice. She was also a very spirited and hilarious woman. Barbie unbuckled her seat belt, turned towards the elder woman, and smiled.

"Hi, I'm Barbara. But most people call me Barbie." She also smiled at the younger girl, who looked no older than seventeen. She also mentally rolled her eyes at the thick Irish accent that stained her words.

Barbie, twenty in a month, still had her teenage spirit and a thing she liked to call her "V-Card". The flight attendant asked her to turn around, and she grudgingly obliged. Before she did, she ave the two a warm smile. The airplane made her stomach unsettled, ever since the rocky ride to Ireland over the Summer.

Since she wasn't allowed to talk to the people behind her, she took out her Dr. Dre's and started to play some of her friend Nessa's soft melodies and the rapper she decided to feature.

( Barbie )