HANSON, brookelle may.

[erica2]

BROOKELLE MAY HANSON
you and i should meet.

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GAZE INTO HER KILLING JAR
i'd sometimes stare for hours[/color]
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name: brookelle may hanson.
age: 19
birthday: august seventh.
band name: rest in pieces.
position: rhythm guitar.
play by: Katie Babyfayce.

LOOK IN MY EYES.

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you're killing me, killing me.[/size][/center]

likes: sweaters, parties, alcohol, cigarettes, movies, loud music, heavy bands, candy, energy drinks, sugar rushes, accents, the color blue, her guitar.
dislikes: violence, blood, needles, winter, her family, darkness, cleaning, hearing about o.d’s, whiny kids, crying, anger.
habits: has a tiny tiny tiny drinking problem, buries her emotions, biting her lip.
secrets: was beaten by her father. a fear of the dark. every now and then she takes vicodin.
overall personality: She tends to allow people to do what they will with her. She has no sense of respect for herself, and was always taught to do as others ask. It’s just how she was raised and because of the things that have happened in her past, and so she has never argued with it. She hates disturbing people, only because she’s nervous and easily scared. You could definitely call her timid, especially around people who are hot-tempered. Brooke can’t stand the sight of blood, nor watching someone get the shit beaten out of them, but she definitely has no backbone to stop it. It’s not like this all the time for her though. When shes around people she’s comfortable with, and she knows she can trust them she has a tendency to open up more. On a sugar rush, she’s quiet the thrill-seeker, and parties are what she lives for. Most people wouldnt expect it from such a quiet girl, but get her drunk and all she wants to have is a good time.

I'M AN ADDICT FOR DRAMATICS
i confuse the two for love

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mom: elizabeth ryan hanson.
dad: alexander michael hanson.
siblings: none.
other important figures:
overall history: Alexander and Elizabeth had been highschool sweethearts, fooled by their hormones and under the impression that their future would be nothing but smooth. Like any other accident, it had been at their graduation party, and all Alexander had to do was whisper those three words and Elizabeth had given herself up. She had been deceived into thinking he was someone she could trust. Close to a year after that day Elizabeth had birthed her first, and last child; Brookelle May Hanson. The mother was reserved and easily influenced by Alex, but she had somehow managed to convince him to marry her. And so the two had gotten engaged a few weeks after Brooke’s birth. That’s when things had gotten rough. Alex began staying later after work, disappearing for the weekends, only to come back piss ass drunk. However, it wasn’t too bad. He would merely just lock himself in their bedroom for the night and Elizabeth would rest on the couch. Years went on and the mother attempted to raise her daughter as civilized as possible. And the more days passed, the harsher Alex’s temper grew.

It wasn’t until her tenth birthday that things just became unbearably severe. Brooke was finally of age to recognize her father’s addiction. There wasn’t a single second where he was sober. He had no job, and would come home only to yell at her mother. The problem was Elizabeth had no sense of respect, nor courage to tell him to fuck off. Finally, a day came where it became too much. The door slammed open, and Alex’s brutal voice pierce the silence like a gun. “Elizabeth, get your ass in here.” Without question, she obeyed. “Lower your voice, I don’t want you waking her.” Her almost inaudible voice spoke. And as soon as her mouth shut he had her hair in his hand. He was dragging her into the kitchen, even as she whimpered and clawed at his hand. Brooke was immediately woken and was downstairs, gazing in terror. “Get back to you’re room now.” She trembled at the sound of his voice, but her presence forced him to loosen his grip on Elizabeth’s hair and she pulled back and grabbed a cup off the counter smashing it against his face. The disctraction was enough time for her to exit the house.

The next day she had managed to sneak back in, grab her stuff and leave a note for Brooke. It read; “Brooke, I know this is unforgiveable, and I don’t expect you to even want to think of me after this. But I can stay no longer. He wont hurt you, and I know eventually things would have gotten to out of hand. So I had to leave. I’m sorry..I truly am. And no matter where I go, I will love you. And so will your father. Elizabeth Ryan Hanson.”
Every now and then Brooke would get slapped by her father, a bruise or a cut lip, but nothing as bad as her mother had been beaten. She had come to a strangle conclusion that he pitied her, for having no mother. Yet he never stopped the threats. He had to begin working to support them, but still got drunk every night and came home to yell nonsense at Brooke and let her know that if she ever displeased him, she’d die. The death threats came regularly, but she never believed one. He still scared her beyond imagination, which is the reason she never spoke a word to her friends nor teachers during school. When highschool came around, it had been grade ten, and she came home late from a friend’s party. The memory was so clear, that it was almost painful. The moment she walked into her house he had grabbed her by the hair, just like he had done to her mother. He dragged her into another room and through her against the ground. She had lost count of how many times he hit her after the blood began to spew from her mouth. He had left her for the night after that, and in the morning she packed her bags and took comfort in a friends house. Living there until she could finish school. She had soon ran into a few musicians and was asked to join the heavy rock band, rest in pieces.
rp quote:

The scanty house was consumed by night. Only the dim lights scattered across the street cast their slight glow across the house. As Brooke crossed the unattended lawn she grasped her stomach her head fogged only slightly. She had a mere two drinks at the party, worried if she had anymore her father would be able to smell the alcohol on her. She wasn’t honestly of legal age yet, but she supposed he wouldn’t even be home. He never was on a Saturday night. She approached the door and as quietly as possible slipped in. She was soon devoured by darkness. And even in the obscurity it felt as if she could feel someone with her. “Shit. Dad’ll kick my ass if someone broke in.” The thought didn’t have to continue too much longer before a sudden hand bound her mouth shut. Another hand seized her hair and she fell to the ground, her struggling body struggling against hardwood floor.
It was the voice that staggered her more then the abrupt attack.
It was her father’s voice.
“You think you can do whatever the hell you want?” His cruel laugh demolished the silence. “I gave up my life to be ruined for you. By you. God you think you can just prance around like a princess don’t you?” The rage was practically dripping from his words. He finally let go of her and her face met the firm floor. A whimper escaped her throat and he kicked her side. “Shut up.” He demanded of her, as the silent tears ran down her face. “You’re pathetic. You cry just like you’re mother you know.” He bent low to her face, and he could feel his liquor drenched breath on her face. His hand grabbed at her face again, his fingers digging into the side of her cheek as he pulled her up to face him. “Pathetic.” He spat the word before dropping her once again. He gave another kick to her stomach, harder this time and she coughed in response, feeling the liquid emit from her throat. She didn’t even have to see it to know it was blood. He turned her around after that, and began to hit her across the face till she faded away and loss consciousness.
This was her fault...Her mother’s. If she hadn’t left her alone to rot she wouldn’t be lying across the floor right now; bruised and battered. It never occurred to her to go searching. She knew her mom wouldn’t come back even if she pleaded. After all, she had been right. Alex would truly never kill his own daughter, even with the threats. But it had never gotten this bad before. And she knew she couldn’t put up with it too much.
Tomorrow, tomorrow she’d leave. She’d leave and she’d never come back. Where she could find another residence to stay at was beyond her, but she knew she couldn’t stay here, not after that night.

I DONT WANNA KNOW ABOUT EVIL

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i only wanna know about love[/color][/center]

name/alias: erica, or taryn (:
age: fifteen
experience: well i did for a couple years, then stopped and just decided to start up again.
password: admin edit.

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this was made by heather. lyrics came from tons of bands, so yeah. dont steal or she will send boo the ghost to eat your face and your mothers face.