Post by ROSELYN AURORA TEAGARDEN on Mar 23, 2013 14:31:55 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/ngx4hu.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: 220px 220px 0px 0px; border: 0px solid #414141;] roselyn aurora teagarden nineteen | 2012 | female | murder |bella thorne Hi there! Sorry, did I scare you? I’ve been told I do that sometimes, but I couldn’t help coming over. I mean, you can see me, right? Yeah, I thought so, but I had to check. Sometimes I really can’t tell. This whole ‘dead’ thing is kinda confusing, don’t you think? But it’s only been a few months, so I think I’ll get the hang of it eventually. Oh, gosh, where are my manners? I’m Roselyn; Roselyn Aurora Teagarden. Strange name, I know, but hey, I didn’t pick it. I prefer Roselyn, but you can call me Rose if you really want to. My friends all do. Well, er… they all did. Hmmm, what else is there about me? I’m nineteen, though my twentieth birthday is coming up. But since we don’t age here, I guess I’ll be nineteen forever. That’s pretty cool, right? Who doesn’t want to always be young? I spend most of my time traveling now, which is really neat. I always wanted to travel, but my dad was all, “You need to get a good education, spend your money on university not gallivanting all over Europe”, so I gave in and went the schooling route. I guess I liked it. Some of my classes were interesting. I liked psychology a whole lot, though I don’t think I could have done it for a living. And I got to see some really beautiful work in art history. Plus the dorm parties alone are enough alone to have made me stay. They’re so much fun! The guys down the hall hooked up these strobe lights to their roof which were so awesome to dance under, and they were always willing to share a couple drinks with us; that is, me and my roommate, Mia. Okay, it sounds weird to just call Mia my roommate, because we’re more than that. She is my best friend. Oh. I guess… was my best friend… I’m still not used to that. Anyways, Mia was my best friend, and had been since middle school when she moved in down the street. We did everything together: track team, riding lessons, singing lessons. We spent so much time at each other’s houses that ours parents used to joke that they’d adopted another daughter. People even used to think we were couple. I mean, I guess I can’t blame them after I came out, but Mia wasn’t gay, and even if she was it was never more than a friendship between us. I think she’s what I miss most about being alive. I miss talking to her. Problems always seemed more easily solved when we worked them out together. Hmm? Oh. I—I guess I can talk about that… No! It’s fine, really. I don’t mind. It makes sense to want to know how I got here; how I died. The thing is, I really don’t remember much about it. But I can tell you what I do remember. Mia was there. We were walking back from a frat party, one that was off campus. Normally we wouldn’t have gone, but this guy Mia was crushing on was going to be there and I really hadn’t felt like staying in and reading up on Van Gogh, so we went. We’d had a great time. Mia danced with her guy and I even got a girl’s number, and the music had been excellent. But, that’s not the point of this story, is it? The police had issued some warning about girls walking alone at night, but we figured we’d be safe enough with the two of us. Besides, we’d taken some self defense courses, so we knew the basics of fighting an attacker off. And besides, the campus hadn’t issued any kind of curfew, so we didn’t think there was a serious threat. We were wrong. He only grabbed me. Maybe most people wouldn’t think that was fair, but to me, it’s the best thing about the whole ugly ordeal. He only grabbed me. Mia’s safe. He was hiding in an alley. He clamped a hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream, and I was behind Mia so she couldn’t see me be taken. There was something else in his hand, a rag soaked with something that made me sleep. That’s when it all gets fuzzy. I remember being on my back. I remember being tied to something. And I remember a knife. I—I’m sorry, I really c—can’t remember any more! Please don’t make me! S—sorry. I’m okay, really. I’m okay. I hung around for a while after that. I tried to talk to people, I tried to talk to Mia, but no one could hear me. No one saw me. All I could do was watch, but even that became too much after a while. Watching as the police brought the wrong men into questioning. Watching Mia drop out of school. Watching my parent’s drift apart, as though they blamed each other for what happened. Watching my body remain unfound, buried deep in a forest so far from where I was taken. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I left. Maybe that was a cowardly thing to do, but what else was there? I’m dead! I’m dead and there’s nothing I can do! It’s easier to think of this as a fresh start. I travel and see things Roselyn Teagarden never got a chance to, and I think that it’s enough. Isn’t it? luck | nineteen | five-six years | central canada |
