Name: Cycil
Age: 13
Gender: female
Sexuality: straight
Hair Colour: Maroon (reddish browninsh)
Eye Colour: emerald
General Appearance:
Personality: one word. Broken. Cycil was broken from the many heart tears. She was quite a "push-over" and couldn't really stand up for her self in most situations. She is open minded to all people and desperate for friendship. A real friendship. It was all she dreamed of. She is a very kind person and doesn't like getting angry. Instead of being angry, she stresses and worries her self to the point where she completely forgets what she's doing. All she wants to do is help and befriend others. She is easily manipulative and she can't really see past the words a person tells her and rarely ever learns from her experiences. She also acts crazily and weirdly in a "normal" persons point of view. The only subject she ever was very good in was art thanks to her artistic flare and perspective of objects and colour ranges.
History:
Does a real friend actually exist? The question had always played along in Cycils head like an ever lasting melody through out her child hood. It wasn't the mockery or the petty name calling that had gotten to Cycil. It was the fake friendships that had rotted her heart from the inside. There was a point in her little life at primary school that she was truly convinced that she had friends. Real friends. Not bullies that played on her emotions as if she was broken harp, using her fragile strings to their advantage. Snapping them then messily fixing them. Luring her to believe that the promises and friendships were true and pure. But Cycil had come to the bitter realisation that this was life. Her life.
She was hoping for a fresh start when she left the sad little primary school behind for the grand high school she had created in her mind. One where she could experience a real friendship and turn over a fresh leaf. Cycil had spent a long time researching on the snail they called internet on her home beaten up computer that desperately protested to be put back into its state of slumber. She couldn't enter any grammar schools, her grades were only average, if even that. The only half- decent high school Cycil came across was a long buss journey away. Just her luck. But beggars can't be choosers.
Her mother did warn her that she'd have to get up early each morning and take the bus journey, even if the weather was bad. She couldn't get her dad to give her a lift either, even if she was running late. Not that Cycil wanted a lift from her dad. Cycils dad was a drug and alcohol addict that had managed to gain numerous criminal records from fights in the poor excuse of a bar that lay at the end of Cycils road. Cycil could often hear screams and rowdy laughter at night. Not a pleasant experience.
However, Cycil did not know that her dream high school was more like a disaster from a night mare. The school had a reputation for bringing up the best bullies in the neighbour hood. But when Cycil had took her first steps into the school, it was too late. She had soon found herself already snared in it's traps, thanks to her desperate longing for a true friends. They had all seemed very nice at first, but behind their divine masks of happiness lay devilish monsters, waiting to catch their unsuspecting prey.
She was used and tossed around like a broken tool once again. With lousy teachers and little support, Cycil was stuck in a worse situation than before. She spent every waking moment at school, dreading every second that was to come, only to find her self at home worrying about her brothers, homework and the following school day. The pressure rose and rose and rose, pushing her down until she was at breaking point. In a rash, desperate last attempt at escape, she ran away.
Are you already in the group, or will you meet up with them? Meet up with them.
Improved :)
