Name: Stitches/Amber [ prefers Stitches, Amber is birth name ]
Age: 13 [ embracing a new chapter ]
Gender: Female
Requested Rank: If I may, a warrior rank?
Pack: [color=#66cc99]Eternal Darkness
Human Photo:
Wolf Photo:
Joining Keys: my soul is that of a wolf's
Summary: Life is full of disappointment and hate, at least Amber always complained, but she would have appreciated every insult and beating from other children at school. If she had known the troubles that would be headed her way shortly, she would have savored each bruise she received, it would all be merely a memory compared to the torture she would endure that week.
Amber did not feel well and her mother and father insisted she go to school.
"It isn't good for your education to stay here in the house all day," her mother had claimed and forced her to dress in a silky ice like dress.
Amber had endured a day that involved her being spit upon, shoved, kicked, and many other painful torture, that she, at least, had thought was torture. Little did she know, the young six year old would suffer more than ever. She would have wounds that would never heal.
Amber was called down into the office for an early dismissal, and in the office was somebody she had never met, dressed in black, that claimed to be her mother. She slit open her lips to speak out her protest, but, she was taken by the hand, the touch cold, and torn out the school.
"What do you want?" Amber cried out, her voice a rough whisper.
"Shut up, kid," growled the voice, and Amber tried to escape out the car door, or fuck with the wheel, and she received a red mark to her cheek. Amber let out a low cry, and moved back, not daring to utter a word.
By the time the vehicle pulled to a curb in an abandoned shack, tears stained her face, and she knew her mother must of phoned 911. I should have been home hours ago, she whimpered silently, and then was yelled at to shut up. Once the vehicle parked, her kidnapper swung open the door and snatched her by the shirt collar, forcing her from the car.
"Shack. NOW." Snarled the voice at her, and she scampered into the shack, fear coursing through her. To her surprise, weapons entirely coated the pale walls, butcher knives, small knives with thick blades, firearms, axes, and many more. She swallowed back her tears and then watched the shack door slam shut.
The kidnapper fumbled with the weapons, and then she took a knife that was medium sized with a needly handle and thick blade. She outlined her lips, carving softly with the knife. Chunks of her lips fell as she did so, and she strained not to burst into tears. Then came the real torture. The blade sliced her lips, carving upwards, and her tears poured down, the salty stinging her injured lips. Her mouth was slit slowly over the week, as if it was a piece of art. She was fed and watered, but kept weak enough. The police had made her kidnapper a suspect for the little six year old's disappearance, having been the one that picked her up. Anxious, the kidnapper decided to let her go. She would be found out, so she stitched the wound and fled.
Days later, a dehydrated girl was found, her lips stitched, crying, bloody, and exhausted on the shack floor. She was cradled by her mother, and named, "Stitches," finally, she stopped hiding and learned to take pride in her lips. She renamed herself such, and has been known as since.
Example Post: Stitches curved her hip structure to examine the room around her; her scarred lips curl into a straight line, and she winces in pain at such. Each movement of her lips seemed to make her bleed at the memory, and an unbearable pain returned.
^ I'm getting tired. :c
Age: 13 [ embracing a new chapter ]
Gender: Female
Requested Rank: If I may, a warrior rank?
Pack: [color=#66cc99]Eternal Darkness
Human Photo:
Wolf Photo:
Joining Keys: my soul is that of a wolf's
Summary: Life is full of disappointment and hate, at least Amber always complained, but she would have appreciated every insult and beating from other children at school. If she had known the troubles that would be headed her way shortly, she would have savored each bruise she received, it would all be merely a memory compared to the torture she would endure that week.
Amber did not feel well and her mother and father insisted she go to school.
"It isn't good for your education to stay here in the house all day," her mother had claimed and forced her to dress in a silky ice like dress.
Amber had endured a day that involved her being spit upon, shoved, kicked, and many other painful torture, that she, at least, had thought was torture. Little did she know, the young six year old would suffer more than ever. She would have wounds that would never heal.
Amber was called down into the office for an early dismissal, and in the office was somebody she had never met, dressed in black, that claimed to be her mother. She slit open her lips to speak out her protest, but, she was taken by the hand, the touch cold, and torn out the school.
"What do you want?" Amber cried out, her voice a rough whisper.
"Shut up, kid," growled the voice, and Amber tried to escape out the car door, or fuck with the wheel, and she received a red mark to her cheek. Amber let out a low cry, and moved back, not daring to utter a word.
By the time the vehicle pulled to a curb in an abandoned shack, tears stained her face, and she knew her mother must of phoned 911. I should have been home hours ago, she whimpered silently, and then was yelled at to shut up. Once the vehicle parked, her kidnapper swung open the door and snatched her by the shirt collar, forcing her from the car.
"Shack. NOW." Snarled the voice at her, and she scampered into the shack, fear coursing through her. To her surprise, weapons entirely coated the pale walls, butcher knives, small knives with thick blades, firearms, axes, and many more. She swallowed back her tears and then watched the shack door slam shut.
The kidnapper fumbled with the weapons, and then she took a knife that was medium sized with a needly handle and thick blade. She outlined her lips, carving softly with the knife. Chunks of her lips fell as she did so, and she strained not to burst into tears. Then came the real torture. The blade sliced her lips, carving upwards, and her tears poured down, the salty stinging her injured lips. Her mouth was slit slowly over the week, as if it was a piece of art. She was fed and watered, but kept weak enough. The police had made her kidnapper a suspect for the little six year old's disappearance, having been the one that picked her up. Anxious, the kidnapper decided to let her go. She would be found out, so she stitched the wound and fled.
Days later, a dehydrated girl was found, her lips stitched, crying, bloody, and exhausted on the shack floor. She was cradled by her mother, and named, "Stitches," finally, she stopped hiding and learned to take pride in her lips. She renamed herself such, and has been known as since.
Example Post: Stitches curved her hip structure to examine the room around her; her scarred lips curl into a straight line, and she winces in pain at such. Each movement of her lips seemed to make her bleed at the memory, and an unbearable pain returned.
^ I'm getting tired. :c
Last edited by Stitches on Sat Nov 02, 2013 3:09 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Wrongly made)
Tue Mar 14, 2017 2:09 am by 
