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Johnny Boy 09-12-2012 06:45 AM

Amanda Steele
This is my main supporting character from my book.

(Just note that my book starts on 2019.) I took this from a biography I wrote for this character and decided to add a first person narrative to it.


Hi, guys.

For the most part, I had a good life. I grew up in San Francisco to a upper-class famliy by the beach. Every morning I woke to see the Golden Gate Bridge inside a cloud of fog that overtook the bay nearly every morning. I'll spare you the depressing things about my life and move on to something a little more brighter.

I'm 29, born 1990. My birth name is Amanda Noel Brooks. I have deep red hair and dark blue eyes, and I'm 6.4 in height. I was the giant of my classes in school. In fact, both my twin sister and I were. My life was easy going, school had its ups and downs, but what's not part of a girl's life? I survived ridicule and broken hearts just enough to make it to college.

There, I had a choice for what to do with my life. I considered somthing maybe closer to home where I'd constantly be in touch with my parents, but I like the challenge of somewhere a little further, like how I love sports. I can't do sports anymore, but I make up for it with parkour. My sympathy for others usually keeps me back from doing something I want to do, but friends and family are always ahead of myself. Sometimes, it's good to the best in my life.

I decided to move away to the east where I applied for college at Princeton University, one of the best in America. That's where I met my best friend in the whole world. My four years there were great and I had my heart set on my future. Like where I'd live. I thought about staying near California, I saw plenty of opportunity there. Then I heard that my parents were about to have a baby boy. That about made my life.

Now here's the depressing part, so bear with me. One day, they were in a ten car pile up on the highway. They died. The unborn boy never survived either. I was devestated.

There were no uncles, aunts or grandparents alive to run to for support. My sister was in Africa, working with humaitarian aid workers and she had no idea for months.

I was alone. Frail and alone. After the funeral, I couldn't do a thing. I stayed in my apartment back east, barely noticing my only friend was there, cleaning the house and keeping me in check. You could say I wanted out. To commit suicide. That thought never entered my mind. Either because I was too important and had a reason, or just because it happeend.

Fast forward five months and my best friend decided to take me out, to see the world. That's where I met my future husband. He was a Marine. My life lifted out of the ashes, and now fast forward a few years and here I am. I live in San Francisco again, near where my life began. I still see that bridge and I still remember the street. I pass by it every day. I hold on my body a tattoo. A vine stretching from my ankle to my shoulder, symoblizing my life from where it began to where I am now. That end is a tattered flower, bleeding and broken, but strong than ever. In the middle nestles three names. My Mom, my Dad, and my Brother. I found out that his name was going to be David.

Emrys 10-01-2012 05:15 PM

Hi Amanda.

What do you look like?

What happened to everyone else in your family?

Loz 10-01-2012 06:25 PM

Hey Amanda,

Why can't you do sports anymore? Did you get in touch with your sister?

Johnny Boy 10-07-2012 06:54 PM

Okay, um...

I actually don't have a family. My parents the only siblings of their families, and it's been a while since their parents died. I guess that's how they found each other and got married.

I only have my sister. I guess I found a new family, on my husband's side. He's got a few members who decided to move to San Francisco, just a few months before we did. I love them so much!

I hardly do sports anymore, because I can't find the time. I'm spending most of my days focused on exercising, running around San Francisco in random directions, getting myself lost. Sometimes, I'll go out, play some volleyball on the beach with my few friends.

And my sister did come back, just several months after my parents died. She never did find out about what happned until then, and I had to tell her... That was when I realized no matter what I do, I'll still have those memories. The memories of pain and heartache.

Now today, I guess it somehow keeps me alive, keeps me going on. I don't know how I do it, though. It used to scare me, that I'd eventually forget them, and move on with my life. I don't want to do that, because they raised me, giving me strength and a loving heart. They are what motivates me. It makes me who I am today. And that's why I have the tattoo.

My future is good, though. Just me, my sis, Nate and two handguns I keep concealed on me at all times... Sometimes, I make that three guns...

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