Oi, chu know I want chuuuu! xD Love youuu

Scarlett-
As the cut broke through the crack in the icy blue curtains consciousness fell over my form like a tidal wave. I slowly eased my limp body into a sitting position forcing my brains to function. The simple movement causing the ginger curls that hung loose to bash around my shoulders. I let a groan escape, as I slipped off the bed my once warm feet touching the icy cold wooden floorboards. I chewed my lip and sighed as the shiver ran up my spine, chasing across my every nerves end, making me feel the coldness. I closed my eyes for a moment before I rubbed my arms, before I padded across the room snagging a towel from the open draw before shuffling across on the cold floor, giving myself a static shock as I attempted to open the bathroom door. I winced before pulling away and trying again. I tossed the towel upon the floor before undressing. I turned on the shower before stepping in, letting the water beat against my skin, match my own racing heart beat. I closed my eyes, the water straightening my bouncing curls as a thin smile stretching across my lips. No stress, just time to think, about everything and yet nothing, letting my every breath intertwining with the condensation seeming to dance, before fading away. into nothing. The cussing came fluent under her breath as she stepped out of the shower, she was going to be late again. She swept the brush through her currently straight hair before throwing it back into a basic ponytail. Knowing it would 'puff' out later, it never looked as bad once up. She snapped her bag off the back of the chair once she was dressed jogging down the stairs before heading for school, thankful for her physical fitness. As much as she hated most of her lesson, she was good... IN the ones she actually did something in. Most of her lessons she's do little, it wasn't because she couldn't do it... Rather she didn't want to. I huffed a gentle sigh as I Ran my finger to my still slightly wet pony tail. The curls were coming back. Joy. I didn't exactly hate my hair, but it was a pain to deal with. I generally hung back, I didn't have the perfect figure like most girls, yet I didn't look anything like most girls, I was different. Too different, it wasn't accepted. For most with ginger hair are blue eyed or brown. As mine were an emerald with golden flecks littering them, I slowly blinked, holding my eyes closed for a moment wishing I was home, away from this place. With my family. Though of course. They didn't exist. Because of my stupid anger, my pathetic actions, I swung a fist hitting the tree beside me, I glanced across my hand as I pulled my clenched fist back. Blood, flesh, hint of bone, splinters. Oh well. I didn't care. My anger killed my family, something I wasn't going to go into. though I did drop to my knees. In frustration, I didn't cry, I didn't speak. I did nothing. I stayed on my knees, gaze to the floor as the blood slithered between my fingers before neatly pooling on the hard concrete surface beside me. Pain was a friend as it was most peoples enemy. But then we get back to the fact I'm different. That was because of my father... Him and his violent ways... The gun... The barrel... The bang... The sweet goodbye as he licked his lips. I tightly closed my eyes as I got a headache. The violent memory of my fathers attacks. The fists, the bruises, the fire. The scar that runs from my heart to my left foot. The collision with death, then having the warm comfort ripped away. Death was easy, the dream. The life if more complex, the nightmare. Before i knew it my body was a limp substance on the floor. Passed out cold. Though my thoughts went on, raging with the memories, the pain, the screams. It was too much for a six year old. No six year old could take it like I could, but then. How many six year olds could take down and murder their mother, father and elder brother? Before starting a fire and making it look accidental.

Name: Tyson Retisant (Say: Ret-ee-Sant ['Sant' rhymes with 'plant']) ((Ty))

Age: 17 years

Appearance: Tyson has long, straight black hair with he keeps tied in a braid down his back, stretching almost to his shoulder blades. His face is casually framed by shorter, loose strands, falling in layers from just above his eyebrows to below his chin. He has a stocky build, and is slightly shorter than most boys his age. He has high, proud cheekbones and a naturally richly tanned complexion. His eyes, though seldom seen, are a bright, fiery shade of brown - seeming almost red when the sun strikes them. He generally stands with a somewhat aloof and disinterested stance, often making himself appear unapproachable. He usually walks with his hands in his pockets, partially because he likes it that way, and partially for the practical purpose of having quicker access to the pen and notepad he keeps there.

Personlity: To be RPed


Other: 1 Sibling: Lizzie


Name: Elizabeth Retisant ((Lizzie))

Age: 18 years

Appearance: Very pretty light boned and slender girl. She is a natural redhead with a fair complexion and alluring pale blue eyes.

Personality: Cheerful, spontaneous, outgoing, friendly, enthusiastic, talkative, judgemental, flirtatious.

Tyson strode down the street, Lizzie babbling about something in his ear - but he didn't care. He wasn't paying attention... Ty yawned openly, and Lizzie swatted him on the back of the head.
"Listen to me, will you?!" She snapped irritably. Ty shook his head, and continued walking. "Ugh! Ty, you are so-" She broke off suddenly, "Hey... There's a girl over here!" She exclaimed in surprise, hurrying over to the fallen girl laying beside the tree. "She's hurt!" Lizzie glanced up to catch Ty's reaction, only to find that he was still walking down the street as though nothing had happened. "Tyson Retisant, you get back here and help me right now!" Lizzie snarled angrily.

Ty stopped, bowed his head and sighed wearily. He didn't like being ordered around, but resisting wouldn't be worth the drama it would cause. So he turned back and walked over to Lizzie - standing beside her with his arms folded and staring aloofly into the distance.

"Yoohoo!" Lizzie called, gently nudging the fallen girl. "You okay, Honey?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you're hurt!" Lizzie exclaimed, overriding the girl's protests without a second thought. "Ty, get over here and help me lift her up." Lizzie insisted bossily, snapping her fingers for her brother. Ty ignored her stubbornly, and slowly Lizzie's irritation levels rose. "Ty..." She murmured in a low, warning tone.
Tyson turned his head to face her and raised one eyebrow, looking coldly down at her. "Oh fine!" Lizzie snapped. "Tyson, will you please lift up this poor girl so we can get her to a hospital?"
Ty shrugged, and Lizzie suddenly couldn't control her irritation any more. She jumped to her feet, and grabbed Tyson by the collar. "Why, you little-"
But she broke off as she saw that Tyson - thoroughly unconcerned by her attack - was reaching into his pocket. He brought out a notepad and pen, and sketched a quick note, which he showed to Lizzie.

She doesn't want our help - can't you see? Comply with her wishes. Besides, it's none of our business.