Post by felicia on Nov 13, 2010 21:36:32 GMT -5
felicia elena ambrose.
twenty five. resident. killer . eliza dushku.[/font][/i]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/center]
not everyone or everything is what it seems, and i am a prime example of this. my name? felicia elena ambrose, and at twenty five years old i've probably seen more death than your ninety year old grandfather. you're probably curious about me, theres not much known about me, although you've seen my face on your television screen once or twice, and you've read about me in your local newspaper, no doubt, you're curious. i think the only place i could possibly start would be the beginning, the only place that makes sense and the reason for the abuse for those many years. the story may not be like my brothers, and it may not be as interesting as you'd think but, i too, have my own demons to fight. and sometimes i wonder if i was brought into this world for any other reason than my own destruction.
from the moment i can remember i was hit and beat up by my father, you see i looked nothing like the man and for that i am thankful. logan though, he was so unfortunate to have obtained the mans eyes and facial structure, but our mothers looks come through with the dark brown hair and softness to his rugged features. from day one my father denied my existence, calling me a mistake, and frequently telling me i wasn't his daughter - that my mother was some whore who slept around. apparently, before i was born things were perfect, from what logan remembers, he could actually remember a day where my father picked him up and hugged him, told him that he loved him and took him out for ice cream. but throughout the nine months i was in the womb of my mother things must've changed and for the worst. i'm twenty five years old, and you would think that i would've lived one singular good day my entire life - i have, but things between those days and now are distant, nothings been the same for me, and i wonder if theres really any hope of me getting better.
like i was saying, from the moment i could remember my father would beat me, blows across the face, the chest, strikes to the stomach, and my behind. he must've loved it or something, it was quite obvious by the way he treated me that he never liked me, never wanted me in his life and he was quite set on my destruction. my mother used to come in at night, wrap me close in her arms and hold me tightly, warmly and comforting me, she'd kiss away the pain, my cheeks, my brow. she was what every daughter wanted of a mother, protective and loving. but nothing could stop the onslaught from my father.
i would have been around seven the day he took it to the next level, i'd arrived home from another useless day at school, spending the majority of it fighting off the questions from the teacher who used to always look at me in concern, noticing the bruises to my arms and neck, always curious as to what was going on with me and why i was so badly hurt all the time. the excuse that always came across was i'd fallen down the steps, i was a clumsy girl - was always dropping things, tripping over steps, gutters, and just completely all over the place. something i'd grown out of now, thank god, for if i didn't have my gracious step and sexy manners i don't think i'd be half the woman i am today. now, back to the story. i'd arrived home and kissed my mother hello, she'd been cowering over the kitchen sink, nursing a cut arm, i gazed at her curiously as she held a cloth to it, wiping up the dry blood and applying pressure to the blood that continued to weep through the wound, staining her light skin. she didn't say a word, but i gathered what had happened, although my father rarely struck her, it wasn't surprising to me to know he'd finally turned on her, but with a knife - that was surprising to me. logan was sitting at the kitchen table, quite the obedient child, doing his homework, eyes fixated on the sheet of paper as though it was the most interesting thing in the entire room - i didn't dare ask what was going on.
i could hear the television in the living room, and my fathers haughty laughter ringing out as he guffawed at some god awful show he watched every wednesday afternoon. i headed to my room, walking right past the living room and dumped my bag down on my bed, pulling out the homework that i'd received that day. i heard the footsteps and the light knock at the door, my father peered in at me and i glanced back at him, climbing to my feet. he grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the laundry pointing at the bloody clothing that was thrown into the sink and told me to scrub it all clean with bleach. i went about the job like any normal person was, the stench of bleach stinging my eyes and nose but i scrubbed it with weepy eyes, knowing i'd receive a beating if i didn't do it to his standards. finally, i washed the clothing clean and was about to empty the dirty, bleach and water filled basin when i felt his warm large hand close around the back of my neck and he shoved me, face first into the sink, gasping in a mouthful of bleach i couldn't help but swallow as i gagged and struggled against him. logan saved me in that moment, calling out to my father from the doorway asking him for some help. my father had an unusual soft spot for the boy and it was always something i wanted to question, but something i never did. my father stalked away and i pushed myself back against the wall, my face was burning and my was retching up the contents of my stomach. the shower was only just across the hall, and i somehow managed my way into the room, turning on freezing cold water i jumped under as i threw up all over the bottom of the shower.
my face was red raw by the time i'd scrubbed at it with soap, washing and rubbing at my eyes trying to get the bleach off of my skin and out of my hair, but it had burnt lightly at my skin, and the hair on my brow was tinged almost white blonde. i must've sat in that shower for ages, throwing up, retching, scrubbing, getting rid of the vile liquid that had made it's way down my throat. my nose stung from the bleach that had gone up it, and my throat was raw - i could barely speak and food really wasn't an option. over the next few weeks, basically a month my weight dropped dramatically, i could only eat soup and i could hardly mutter a few words. my tongue was raw red after the incident, and my throat a bloody mess. my father had laughed the incident off, while my mother came to be as usual, holding me tight, apologising for the monster. and so it went on, my father would beat me, attack me and occasionally he would resort to some other form of punishment, and for no reason at all usually. school became a thing of the past and as i got older, i realised just what i was missing out on and started to study on my own. he rarely let me leave the house, especially after those incidents where he would burn me, or he would attack my arms with his hunting knife. he was a brutal monster who just kept getting worse and worse.
by the time i turned fourteen i had returned to school, beatings happened on a daily basis and things were going decently well, my grades were up and i'd met a boy. his name was jason, and he was a grade older than me, and one below logan. i'd been warned from logan about boys, and dating them wasn't something i thought i could possibly do, especially with a father like my own - but the two of us were close. he was a gorgeous boy, messy brown hair that hung in his bright green eyes, a lop sided smile and a gorgeous voice that made me smile every time i heard him say my name. things were good, things were great and he made me feel safe - at least until i left his arms and returned home. we'd commonly sneak off the school grounds and head down to the beach, get away from the rest of the world. we'd talk about everything while he carefully addressed my wounds, helping me when i needed it and showing me a tender love i'd never really experienced from a male. even my own brother - at that stage. we were seeing each other a long while before my father eventually found out - and the only reason he'd found out was due to my stupid mistake.
i was sixteen, and i'd been seeing jason for around two years now, maybe just a little under, but not by much. we'd been sleeping together for over a year and were well aware of things like protection. but accidents happen, and i soon discovered i was two months pregnant. i hadn't meant to leave the test laying around in the bathroom - i was supposed to have destroyed it in a fire and destroy any evidence he'd have against me. but my father found it before i had the chance and i soon found out exactly how he felt about that. my father hadn't started raping me yet, but that was soon to come, molestation was a common occurrence and i hated to talk about it, even to jason. i was asleep one day, on the couch, it was a saturday morning and i'd had hardly any sleep the night before - i'd been out with jason at a part and we really hadn't gotten home until odd hours of the morning. firs thing i felt was my fathers hand groping at my thighs pulling them apart and i'd woken with a start. he clutched his knife in one hand and i paused, knowing he'd hold it against my throat, feel me up and be done. but this time he was different, his pants were around his ankles and i soon found him on top of me, the stench of stale cigarettes and alcohol wafted past my nostrils and i gagged.
that was the moment he decided he was going to rape me and i could tell. he held my gaze a moment the knife pressed against my neck, nicking my skin as he had his way with me. i lay beneath him, crying, screaming pushing at the fat slob who was moaning annoyingly loud. when he'd finished he grabbed me by the neck, pulling me to my feet and he pressed the knife to my neck again, telling me i was stupid for getting knocked up, and he'd kill me if i had anyone's bastard. i was a slut, a tease, an ugly bitch who needed to be put down and he drove the tip of the knife into my stomach, just right of my belly button and lunged deep into my womb. i couldn't breath, i was fighting for my life the moment he'd plunged it in, and my thoughts had strayed far from the baby that he'd just killed. i was screaming out in agony, red blood seeping through my fingers. my mum ran into the room, my brother quickly followed and his eyes locked on my then my fathers as he turned in a rage to my mother. i sank to the ground, holding my side and logan quickly joined me, supporting my weight as i sagged against him, as white as a sheet, and breathing deeply.
he threw my mother to the ground, and attacked, my eyes widened as i heard his screams, his knife thrusting into her stomach and chest, blood spurting from every single stab wound. i cried out, pointing blindly towards them as my eyes filled with tears, from the pain of my stomach to the pain of my mother dying on the floor. logan let go and that was the moment i saw him snap for the first time. as he grabbed my fathers arm, my father swung out slashing his cheek with the knife as logan wrestled the blade from his hands and returned the assault on my father. i don't remember what happened next, because i'd blacked out from blood loss - but the next thing i remember was i was sitting in a hospital room, jason was standing awkwardly beside me, telling me he couldn't see me again, not after the baby, not after my brother had killed my father. everyone stopped believing in his innocence at that point i realised, and it was only a matter of years before he'd be thrown in jail.
my brother was taken into a detention center but was soon released when they came to the conclusion that he'd acted in self defence and he quickly found himself a place where he could live and that was where erin came into the picture. i remember her well, she treated me like a sister herself and we were pretty close most of the time. i'd decided i was completely against men after the issue with my father and with jason, my mother was dead and i felt as though i was stuck in a downward spiral - while logan was making a life for himself. happy with a woman, a kid on the way. things were looking up for him and i was glad he'd managed to find himself a comfortable home and somewhere he could be happy. i on the other hand was going through foster families like you couldn't imagine, i wasn't old enough yet to be able to live on my own, so the system was doing what they could to find me a stable home until i turned eighteen.
the system didnt like me very much though it seemed and i jumped from house to house, getting worse and worse - and none of them could seem to figure out what was wrong with me. it was when i'd turned seventeen and my latest family had all about given up hope they heard me in the bedroom one night, crying and telling someone to leave me alone to go away. there was only one person still around me from my old life, someone who always wanted to hurt me, and although i knew my father was dead, i couldnt quite get that to sink all the way in. i was seeing him. it would always been the same, i'd feel the stinging sensation in my stomach and i'd claw at my skin trying to get his fingers away from me. eager to get that knife out of my skin, screaming and carrying on, thrashing about beneath the blanket, desperate to rid myself of the demon and his knife. i knew my brother was still in posession of the knife, but i really couldn't get that horrible man out of my head and out of my life. even to the day he continues to haunt me.
when my brother was thrown in prison, and i'd lost both erin and my niece i knew things were about to go downhill again. i was trapped out in the world and on my own, although i'd heard from him about what was going on in his hell i wasn't sure what i could possibly do to help him. of course he'd contacted me on one of my visits leting me knowing what he and another inmate were going to do. i wasn't sure how the plan was going to work out, but i went along with it either way, wondering when they were going to do it. little did i know i still had years before they would even go about executing their plan and in that time things went a little haywire for myself. i'd met another man, deacon, a police officer for a tampa branch and we'd been seeing each other a while. he knew about my brother and had his own theories on the case, and things seemed to be going well. until of course i heard him talking on the phone one evening to one of the guys down at the station. my ears had perked up and i realised without a doubt he was talking about my brother and i.
i'm not quite sure what he was planning, or if our relationship had been built on lies, so i started snooping. picking up information where i could, eavesdropping on phone calls and really trying to get what i could out of him when i had him alone. it didn't take me all that long to learn what he was doing - keeping an eye on me under the command of the CIA who were still hot on my case after my brother was thrown in prison. everyone knew i was still close to him, so it came to no suprise really that they'd asked this guy to keep close tabs on me. when i finally confronted him about it he continued to lie to me, telling me it wasn't true, but i knew too much about him now, i could tell when he was lying and in this case he was. it was when he threatened to out me to the cops that i killed him, following in the families footsteps i lost it. my brother was the only person i had left, and i wasn't going to fail on him now. of course, this didn't help my case. people knew i was seeing him and knew about my brother so we had to get the breakout done soon.
when the day finally arrived i brushed through the morning quickly, nervous about what was to come in the afternoon and eager to get it out of the way. i wanted to go back into hiding and being out in the open so close to their prison wasn't a good idea. thank god for tinted windows. i parked the truck outside the jail and waited, hours seemed to pass before i saw them running towards me, logan was just beside him, the other guy - kieran, despite the fact they both looked like absolute hell, i couldnt help but smirk as my eyes ran over kieran devouring him with my eyes. tattoos, muscles, piercings, the guy was to fucking sexy to be real. i grabbed my gun from the jacket pocket and gripped it in my hand as they climbed into the back and i peeled out of there, slamming down my foot on the gas and headed right for the highway. i hadnt had a stable home, at all my entire life, no where i could call my own for years and even now i wasn't about to settle down with the two when i got them to the safe house. that was the only thing on my mind actually, until we heard the sirens behind us. i glanced in the review mirror and grabbed my gun, arching my back as i leaned out the open window, my foot pressed hard against the gas, knees steering the wheel. the wind whipped my hair and a dark look fell over my face, the cold steel felt so right in my hand as he shot once, twice, three times, taking out two guys and narrowly missing a truck. and so it went on, for atleast another twenty minutes, small intervals enough for me to reload my weapon, but we took out dozens of people that night driving along the highway. making our escape.
it was as we pulled onto the forest road i glanced in the rearview at the two in the back, a smirk falling over my lips i pushed my hair back from my face and licked my lips as kieran winked at me. there was something about him, a sex appeal i hadn't really seen with anyone else, hadn't really felt. a visceral need and want, i desired him and his body at that moment and it was all i could do to stop from jumping through to the back of the truck and taking him, riding him until he was completely spent and our bodies were sore. those images were so clear in my mind, and as i went to get the other car, i couldn't help the glance back over my shoulder towards him. we hadn't spoken two words to each other but there was that electric feel in the air and i'm sure logan himself realised it.
i hadn't intended on staying so long with the two, but after so long without logan in my life i really couldnt help it. besides - kieran had a way of keeping me occupied. long late nights together despite logans questions, i was sure he would know about us, but he never quite figured it out. kieran kissed me on the first night at the safe house and i basically melted into him, devouring his lips and taking his taste and locking it deep into my memory, for i knew i wouldn't be able to taste it for long. the month went by far to quick and i didn't want to leave. but i knew staying in one place for too long wasn't good for my health and i couldn't bring myself to stay with that one guy, knowing like the rest he'd probably hurt me. besides - the police were looking for all of us, we couldn't afford to be stuck together long. i hadn't told logan i was going, but i woke kieran that morning and told him, id already packed my bags and those were waiting in the truck. we kissed, sweet and tender, loving even, i'd held myself close to him as he told me he'd repay me for the freedom. i shook my head and left him, delivering myself to my truck and promptly took off, casting one long look back towards the house as it disappeared behind me. i may have never been able to admit my feelings to him, but i was sure kieran had the hunch i had something for him, i felt it aswell, especially as i left that morning, breaking my own heart to they could stay safe without me there. i was sure i loved him.
and now, after months have passed and things have steadily worsened, with the cops closing in i know i need to go back to them. i don't know how they'll take it, or how i will find them, but i have my ideas. they wouldn't have gone to far from tennessee, the one place the cops really wouldn't have thought they'd stay. but i know they arent in the safe house, i've already looked. i'm not sure where to look next, but i'll find them. i need to be near them again, i don't feel safe right now, not with the police on my trail, not when i know where they'll send me. i can hear a car coming now, and so i'll end this short, i'm not sure where i'll be tomorrow, or who i'll find, but i know i'll find them soon, i just gotta...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[/color]jenners. twenty. others.[/font][/i][/center]