Welcome to Gaia! ::

Billy | | | Girl oo1

BIRTHCERTIFICATE

Taylor Katherine Williams
I'm Eighteen ;; years young

MYPERSONALS

Weight ;; 110 lbs
Feet " 61"
color ;; Brown
color ;; Dirty Blond

ALITTLEMOREABOUT

Likes ;;
o - Change
o - Pioneering
o - Playful Teasing
o - Bunnies
o - Big Sunglasses

Dislikes ;;
o - Religion
o - Abandonment
o - Zealots
o - Official-Types
o - Crowds


GNITTYGRITTY

Biography
No matter what way I toss it, this is going to sound like a sad story. This I realize, no worries, though. I was born Taylor Katie Hemmings, lovely name, isn't it? We were a sweet little Catholic family that consisted of two parents, myself, and my little brother Andrew. We were four years apart.

My parents, you know, I idolized them. They were just so perfect. They never fought, and it was always The Hemmings, the people everyone wanted to be like. I wore that little private school uniform, and I said my prayers, and I prayed at the cross, and I lived a lovely little life, eating up all of the religious bullshit that was fed to me. Before you ask, our Priest was Father White, and he was just like the grandfather anyone had ever wanted, hell, he was a saint.

I was ten, and Drew was six. And despite the fact that we were good little Catholic kids, we still liked to break the rules. Mom and dad were out, probably doing the grocery shopping, or something-- I dunno. We were out playing tag, and stupid, stupid me forgot the rules. Look both ways before you cross the street, any street. I didn't have time to stop and look when Drew was only a couple of inches from deeming me "it", and I would not lose to a kid four years younger than myself. So, I ran out into the street.

It was stupid, I'll be the first to admit that. Bam. Just like that. I don't remember any pain, but, then, I don't remember much at all. I woke up in the hospital, with my teary-eyed little brother, and perfect little parents at my side. My mom smiled, but her eyes were glassy, she'd been crying. They looked as though they'd lost a lot of sleep, I don't know how long I was out-- to this day, I don't know. But they said I'd died, for a whole minute and a half.

That was where my life as the perfect little Hemmings daughter ended, and would you like to know why? There was no peace in that minute and a half, it was only darkness, there was no voice, no light. The God that I had been taught to love and have faith in had not been there for me in that long, brutal moment. Instead, he left me with proof of his abandonment, a long, ugly puckered scar that curves along my side, from under one arm to the hip on the same side. I had broken ribs, and ugly bruising, and when I got back home I wasn't the same girl. My brother had changed as well, he'd become introverted, he always looked at me as though he'd made a horrible mistake. He apologized frequently, and it was always heartfelt, but I didn't want to hear it.

I was angry, and he was scared, and sad, and he thought it was all his fault. I started smoking, and I stopped going to class, and then next thing I knew, there were people at the door, and they said: "Taylor? Taylor, we'd like to take you someplace." I was thirteen, at that time, and for two, maybe three years I was passed from home to home.
But it never worked out, because I'd turned into such an unpleasant human being.

I never heard from my parents, who had come to hate me for my lack of faith, or my brother who had always looked at me as though I had died and returned home as someone else, someone who wanted him dead and gone.

He was maybe my eighth or nineth parent, and his name was Jerry Williams. He looked different from the rest, and that first day he said: "I'm not going to try and pretend I know you, because I don't. But I was in a place similar to yours, and I want you to know that it doesn't get better just because you ignore it." I hated him for that heart-felt chat, and I hated him for always trying to wring a smile from me. I especially hated him because he never got angry, when the school called in those robotic tones to say that I'd missed all but one half of my classes.

I lived with him for a year or so before he adopted me, and by then he was just like family. We had spats, but they were never serious. I wanted to change myself, be someone other than Taylor Katie Whatever. A new nickname, one that Taylor would've rejected. So, what was new? I turned to my brand new last name. Williams. Williams to William to Billy.

And suddenly, it didn't matter that my real parents hated me, or that my brother was scared of me. In fact, I couldn't have cared less about my big ugly scar, though that doesn't mean I ever flaunted it. I was finally ******** happy again. I don't want you to think of this as a sob story, you asked and I told-- I'm not looking for sympathy, I'm too happy to deserve it.

Personality
I am independent, more than anything. I don't want you to do anything for me, because I can fend for myself, thank you very much. I am self-reliant, and I don't believe in physical limitations. I am strong-willed, and hard-headed. Stubborn is a more common word. I will persist and persist, and when all else fails I get angry.

I wouldn't call what I have a short-temper, that word gets thrown around too much. I'm angry in a quiet way, a kind of rebellious brooding way. I don't yell, and I don't get violent, but I get cuttingly sarcastic. Trust me, and don't bother to ask-- you'll know if something's wrong.

More than anything, I like to focus on the fun, the adventure. I'm an adrenaline junky, and I love anything to get the 'ole blood flowing. I don't like being serious, I don't want to talk things over. I'm defensive, I don't like talking about myself or what has happened to me in the past-- the past is the past, the end. Period. I have a tendency to be optimistic, if only to keep things from getting too heavy, y'know, deep. When things get deep, I have an awful tendency to drown.

SAMPLES
xxx