Rachael
BLACKJACK!
Backstory: Rachael grew up in a family that was quite disfigured. With her father always gone and her mother working. It left her brother to deal with her, usually taking her when he had drugs to trade or illegal actions. When Rachael was seven she had been captured by an individual of one of the gangs the brother had conversed with.. Beaten close to death and left on the side of the road, the child had forgotten everything about herself. The beating had caused a significant brain injury, For the next years, she would live in her own world, forgetting every now and then and being controlled by her OCD which surrounded around the constant need for time and staying on a schedule. Nothing really mattered but time. She usually didn’t speak to anyone, what was the point if in the end, you would forget?
A small entrance for the character Rachael
The scarf was wrapped twice around her pale scrawny neck; on a rainy, muddy day that she did not expect to happen, her whole schedule was off and her OCD was not happy.
The biting cold chilled her fingers into clumsy numbness, the cold seeped into her toes and increased painfully throughout her feet as if it occurred on her bare feet on the pristine icy whiteness concrete rather than high heels. Her lips turned a bluish hue as her teeth chatted like a pneumatic drill. It was seven forty and she was supposed to be at her apartment; cleaning. But no, she was walking in the freezing temperature trying to find her way to her apartment because she had forgotten where it was. Now her amnesia and memory loss was the main purpose for the female to shut down and stay quiet. What was the point of talking to someone when in the end you would forget them?
What was the point of doing anything different than simply following a routine? So you know what you are doing, and know where you are going every second of your day.
She never spoke, her voice was faint she had a petite figure. Never really eating as she didn't really have time for it. When she did speak, it was a usual remark that had deep thought or pondering over before responding. Or a sentence to shut the other person up. Interacting was something she never savored to do and rarely did, that is why she had a schedule, to keep her busy.
Within precisely four minutes having passed the sight of the apartment came into view. All that was heard was a sigh that was filled with relief. It didn’t take longer than one minute to urge up the steps and clutch onto the ice felt doorknob; twisting.
The moment she moved into her home the sound of clocks ticking in synchronized music could be heard all throughout her home.. And this, this brought a sense of relaxation. She had a total of ten clocks scurried and precisely placed around her apartment. And she adored it.
This was her safe place. The one place she enjoyed being, waiting four seconds before entering her home the stride towards the kitchen she made.
Wake up, go to the coffee shop, then the library, and then park. And finally, return home to clean and sleep. That was the same thing she did every day, and she relished it. Even with her memory loss, it seemed the schedule was indented in her mind no matter what happened in her head. This was Rachael. A human that was not close to being interesting, a human that lived by the ticking of a clock.
A small entrance for the character Rachael
The scarf was wrapped twice around her pale scrawny neck; on a rainy, muddy day that she did not expect to happen, her whole schedule was off and her OCD was not happy.
The biting cold chilled her fingers into clumsy numbness, the cold seeped into her toes and increased painfully throughout her feet as if it occurred on her bare feet on the pristine icy whiteness concrete rather than high heels. Her lips turned a bluish hue as her teeth chatted like a pneumatic drill. It was seven forty and she was supposed to be at her apartment; cleaning. But no, she was walking in the freezing temperature trying to find her way to her apartment because she had forgotten where it was. Now her amnesia and memory loss was the main purpose for the female to shut down and stay quiet. What was the point of talking to someone when in the end you would forget them?
What was the point of doing anything different than simply following a routine? So you know what you are doing, and know where you are going every second of your day.
She never spoke, her voice was faint she had a petite figure. Never really eating as she didn't really have time for it. When she did speak, it was a usual remark that had deep thought or pondering over before responding. Or a sentence to shut the other person up. Interacting was something she never savored to do and rarely did, that is why she had a schedule, to keep her busy.
Within precisely four minutes having passed the sight of the apartment came into view. All that was heard was a sigh that was filled with relief. It didn’t take longer than one minute to urge up the steps and clutch onto the ice felt doorknob; twisting.
The moment she moved into her home the sound of clocks ticking in synchronized music could be heard all throughout her home.. And this, this brought a sense of relaxation. She had a total of ten clocks scurried and precisely placed around her apartment. And she adored it.
This was her safe place. The one place she enjoyed being, waiting four seconds before entering her home the stride towards the kitchen she made.
Wake up, go to the coffee shop, then the library, and then park. And finally, return home to clean and sleep. That was the same thing she did every day, and she relished it. Even with her memory loss, it seemed the schedule was indented in her mind no matter what happened in her head. This was Rachael. A human that was not close to being interesting, a human that lived by the ticking of a clock.
