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[Aug. 25th, 2008|08:19 pm] |
Born into an affluent family on October 27, 1984, Annabella Jean Donovan did her best to maintain a balance between her conservative religion and incompatible American dream of freedom. Since her parents were both 19, they joined an organization called “Friends of the Above”, an overzealous religious group that many called a cult. Her parents ensured exposure to her ‘people’ by moving into the religious compound in Chicago where not only could they watch after her, but have their friends and their children keep track of her activities. The only daughter of two cardiologists, she was brought with luxuries and possessions that would keep a young girl and her parents content, as long as she obeyed the rigid rules of the religion along with her older brothers. She followed her parents’ orders out of fear and submission; they were her providers and she needed not bite the hand that fed her. Following his father’s orders, it only took one strike from her older brother to prevent her from ever trying to sleep over at her Catholic friend’s place again. A sizeable welt was enough to teach her not to break the rules of the Donovan house.
All was well up until she had to attend a public high school due to issues with home-schooling qualifications and investigation from one of the elders. Hannah was on the right track with her desired GPA, cornucopia of extracurriculars and tight social network. However once she hit her senior year and her older brothers gone overseas for medical school, she gained a little bit of hope that kept and longed to break free. That hope and desire was amplified once she had the opportunity to visit nearby colleges that wanted to recruit the best of students. In a new environment where older people outnumbered the innocent high school scholars, there was bound to be some corruption. Feeling as if it was her only chance to experience something other than the monotony of her life, she attended a dorm party of a college sophomore. There, she unknowingly loosened up after a spiked drink, shedding off one of her many body-concealing cardigans. The heat, the night and the intoxication of a fun time lead her into the lap of the party’s host. In that lap she moved sensually to the music, grinding her hips to the infectious beats, letting loose all of her inhibitions. Unbeknownst to her, one of the other high school attendees snapped shots of her with his digital camera.
The pictures inevitably hit the worldwide web, with copies sent to her parents via their connections at her high school. The following few days, she experienced what her parents called a fitting punishment for the crime she committed. But their daughter had enough; one night’s exposure was enough to change her views and values. They tried to tell her she was shameful, but in her mind, that night she was free and let go what she really was. When they decided to send her away, she escaped and ended up on the Greyhound to Las Vegas. She was going to become what they already branded her: loose.
The first year was one of difficulty, being thrown into immediate independence and trying to survive with her wits and intellect in the city of sin. Harsh times called for a girl to do what she had to survive, taking odd jobs, some jobs that made a person bite down on their tongue to forget what they were doing. She took on a new name: Hannah Deveraux. Deveraux was the last name of the first stranger who allowed her to stay at his place. As for Hannah, she chose it because of its palindrome quirkiness. New name, she was a new person.
After years of city-hopping to avoid her family and cult finding her, she’s lived in countless cities. Now 23, she's comfortable in Orange County, the life she's living and lived. Hannah still aspires to be more than just a receptionist, wanting to get back into school, higher education. But for now, she's continuing to experience the life she's always wanted, exploring and experiencing what the suppressed little girl of her first 18 years never got to do.
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[Apr. 2nd, 2008|02:05 pm] |
It’s been a good amount of time since I’ve arrived in New York, things are settled in nicely. My boss is…my boss and I can’t do much complaining because he’s the one who keeps me afloat with paychecks. You can’t be too picky when your resume has holes here and there. Everyone else here has that 9 to 5 that they dread but it just makes the bed that much more comfortable when you hit it, right? It’s like what people say, you know a good day because you can compare it to a bad day.
Sometimes you think that in a big city, you can maintain some anonymity, start anew but things in the past come back. It’s a big city, but a very small world. And when you’ve established something with someone, it’s easy to pick their face from a crowd like Where’s Waldo or something. I guess I’m fortunate this particular one and incident was of neutral feelings. It was awkward, but it was alright. By now, I should prepare myself for these types of situations. I should be a pro, right? But anyways, I should just hope for the best and know the terms aren’t as bitter as I thought they would be.
Sometimes I tell myself that the life I’m leading it, its okay. It’s not the glamorous life I dreamt as a child or the ones that many little girls would want as their own, but I’m fine with it. You dream big and when you don’t reach it, you know you at least tried and made some bit of progress. That’s all I really ask for and want in life. If you can accept that, then you've made a step into maturity. I still do have aspirations for more as I find you should always live for something, a passion, so it keeps me going. My life's far from over.
There's a learning process to everything. It’s all baby steps to me, the process slow and gradual in the beginning, but things pick up and you learn. My first batch of cookies were burnt and tasted like something a gremlin would eat. They’re still not perfect, but I like to think they’re close. So my social life? Letting one person in at a time. And with that one person, it’s all about how much and close I let them in. It’s about time and patience. I’m only 24 years old so I have all the patience in the world. |
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